UPTOWN — About four years, John Hagan lost his job in Nevada and moved to Chicago with little money and few options.
When his unemployment checks ran out, he took a job at a temp agency.
"The thing I didn’t like about it was these were places you didn’t really want to go," said Hagan of the assignments. Public transportation made the day much longer.
"I had to get from the Wilson Men’s Hotel [in Uptown] to this place in Cicero, and then what they would usually do is send you all the way out to Romeoville, Bolingbrook or any other boonie suburbs just to go to work. You’re talking easily 12 to 14 hours a day," he said.
That's when he received a recruitment letter from a Streetwise vendor and decided to try selling the Chicago-centric magazine that focuses on the impact of poverty and homelessness, he said.
"I decided, 'Hey maybe I can set my own hours, my own pace and meet some fascinating people,'" Hagan said.
Hagan was one of about 50 employees who gathered Wednesday at the Streetwise headquarters at 4554 N. Broadway in celebration of the publication's 25th anniversary.
The magazine advertises itself as "a hand up, not a handout," offering anyone willing to work a way to get themselves out of a crisis, according to its website.
It's more than just a job selling papers, though. Along with financial stability, it offers those in need social services, community and the dignity not to have to beg for a living, said Streetwise CEO Julie Youngquist.
"If you’re homeless, it's very difficult to just get up, clean yourself up and apply for a job and start earning an income immediately, so this is a viable option," she said.
To sell the paper, one must go through an orientation that explains panhandling laws, what their responsibilities are and the company's code of conduct. After passing a post-orientation test, vendors are given a temporary badge, a location to sell at and a stack of 15 free magazines to sell for $2 each, she said.
Once their first magazines are sold, vendors can reinvest in more magazines, which they can purchase for 90 cents. The vendors are allowed to keep the rest of the $2 the magazine sells for and all tips, she said.
"We had vendors who came in with nothing. Literally, not a dollar in their pocket, and they are now selling 100 streetwise magazines a week and paying their rent and paying their bills and paying their cellphone bills," Youngquist said.
At Streetwise, the day begins at 7:30 a.m., when the office offers a free meal cooked by First Slice Pie Cafe, donated by the Salvation Army or treats from Panera Bread. Vendors also can receive skills training, use computers, receive hygiene kits, charge their phones or just take in some air conditioning in the office, she said.
Within months, vendors are on their way to stablizing their lives, which usually starts with housing, she said. That might be a room at a single-room-occupancy facility rented by the week or month.
That's very stabilizing if the person had been couch surfing or sleeping on a train, Youngquist said.
"For each individual vendor, it's just about incremental change and incremental mobility," she said.
But changes to the affordable housing stock in the city, such as the selling of the Wilson Men's Hotel at 1124 W. Wilson Ave., can have dire consequences for her employees, though it won't affect Streetwise because of the sheer number of homeless people in the city, Youngquist said.
"I worry more about the 153 people currently living in the Wilson Men's Hotel — some of who are my vendors and part of our family — and they have nowhere else to go," she said.
"The bigger problem of lack of affordable housing just ripples through the entire organization, making it difficult for Streetwise vendors to find a place to stay. They're still earning money, their housing just becomes more expensive and that’s really what I worry more about," Youngquist said.
Hagan's years at the magazine are an example of the incremental change possible. One of his customers offered him a place to live on the South Side, and he's been able to move from the Wilson Men's Hotel to a three-bedroom apartment, he said.
He's also advanced from vendor to field supervisor, allowing him the opportunity to set his own hours and help those in his community, he said.
"I check on people who might be in trouble and see what’s going on — see what we need to do so we can help them," he said.
Trouble might mean vendors are selling outdated magazines, may be intoxicated and stranded, or may just need help getting back to the office.
While some vendors don't last long, those who do swear the work pays off over time.
Donald Morris, who sells the magazine around Uptown, has been with Streetwise since he lost his job selling the Sun-Times in 2003. He worked odd jobs for awhile, but only Streetwise kept him stable enough to pay his bills and keep his apartment.
"I tell people and individuals what they need to do — be strong and conform. And come out here and just keep alive," he said.
"Streetwise sells," he said. "Sell your product. Be good to the people, and it stacks up. Whether you like it or not, it stacks up. Some of us don’t think it stacks up, but they don’t be out here on a continual basis to see how it stacks up."
