At Christmas 2017, I volunteered with the homeless charity Crisis

Crisis provides a safe place for people who are homeless to stay over Christmas

Hot meals. A Christmas dinner. Access to health and wellbeing support. Showers. Haircuts. Clean clothes. Somewhere secure to store the few possessions they still have. And help navigating the maze of government support, which on its own can feel overwhelming and impossible

I’ve written before about serving breakfast and lunch to people staying there, and I don’t hesitate to say it remains one of the highlights of my life

That year, though, things were different

There was a particularly bad flu going around, and many volunteers understandably stayed away because they were ill. The centre was short-staffed

The way volunteering works at Crisis is simple. All the volunteers sit in a large room. Periodically, a Crisis staff member comes in and says, “I need ten people.” 

They don’t tell you what the job is. It might be cleaning toilets. It might be serving food. You only find out once you put your hand up

Some people seemed happy to sit in the room all day chatting. I get it. They turned up. They felt the warm glow of doing something good. They could say they were there

But that’s not how I’m wired

I volunteered for everything that came up

Then, in the afternoon, a Crisis staff member came in and said something different

“We need one volunteer. The only criteria is that you can look after yourself… and you need a coat.”

I put my hand up

The job turned out to be an outside bouncer

I was taken to the front door, out into the cold, and briefed by the team I was replacing

The role was simple, they said

Welcome people as they arrived. Be friendly. Be human. But more importantly, keep the drug deals away from the entrance

And that’s when the reality hit me

If you gather a large number of homeless people in one place, you also attract drug dealers

For them, it’s an opportunity. Easy access. Vulnerable people

The Crisis team quietly pointed out who the dealers were, lingering just far enough away to avoid confrontation

I stood between them and the door. We kept up a bit of banter. Nothing aggressive. Just enough presence to make it clear they weren’t welcome there

As the evening came to an end, we were the last bouncers on duty

The centre closed for the night. One by one, people left the warmth, the safety, the light

And we stood there and watched

As soon as they walked away, the dealers moved in. Conversations started. Offers were made

You could see it happening in real time, and there was nothing more we were allowed to do

It was heartbreaking

Conclusion

Volunteering with Crisis showed me many things, but that moment at the door is the one that’s stayed with me

Homelessness isn’t just about not having a roof over your head

It’s about vulnerability

It’s about what happens when safety is removed, even briefly

It’s about how quickly people can be pulled back into cycles they’re desperately trying to escape

I went there to help serve food. I left understanding something far deeper

Sometimes the most important work isn’t inside the building, where it’s warm and visible

Sometimes it’s standing in the cold, doing your best to hold the line, even when you know it won’t last