My name is Rev. Charlotte Cramer, and this is why I’m here.

I'm an interfaith street chaplain and advocate, educator and speaker on interfaith spiritual care for the unhoused.

Before I go into the nuts and bolts of interfaith street chaplaincy, I wanted to introduce myself and tell you who I am and how I got here.

I’m a 27 year old white woman from an upper middle class family in New Jersey. I have lived in California for the past 5 years, and I’ll be moving to Portland, Oregon this coming May.  I don’t have my bachelors degree, dropping out after 2.5 years, but I do have my Master of Divinity degree with a Concentration in Chaplaincy, four units of Clinical Pastoral Education (Google it, please), and a Certificate in Chaplaincy. I’m also an ordained Interfaith Minister, by the Chaplaincy Institute. My choice to become an interfaith minister was rooted in a desire to be more aligned with the future of religion, spirituality and ministry– not the past. 

The thing that really surprises people about me is the passion and work I seem to have fallen into. The work I do is so niche that one might say it’s too small to even be called niche. I’m an interfaith street chaplain, and I provide spiritual care to the unhoused and locally incarcerated (people in county jail).

 It’s a funny thing, how our callings can sometimes come from a deep well inside of us, one so strange and foreign that it might belong to something else, something bigger than us.

I was born in Manhattan, New York, and was raised in a wealthy suburban commuter town called Maplewood, New Jersey. I was quite the deep feeler and philosopher as a child– I dreamt big, felt the weight of the world, and always believed that I was more alone than I was. (Shout out to the Enneagram 4’s!). My interests were in the arts (I was a dancer and frequent theater kid), creativity, history, and religion. At school, the playground was where I designed rock gardens out of spare stones by the fence, and after school I played games like “mail” and “house” with my sister. (Which are essentially pretending to be a grown up who has a house and sends mail). 

I was raised in a Unitarian Universalist congregation. I’m a fourth generation UU, with a strong flow of humanism running through my veins. My father and I recently had a conversation wondering where I got my deep sense of spirituality, intuition, and intense desire to live and see through my heart. That is not a common characteristic in my broader family: justice, intelligence, practicality, science, control and academic accomplishment– those are our values. Youth group and my life at our UU congregation in Summit, NJ were everything to me. It was through those channels that I experienced a sense of belonging and community; where I first experienced non-Christianized ritual/worship; and, where I practiced being a leader, one that felt true to my authentic self. The realization that I wanted to become a minister came when I was 16, sitting in a worship service, watching our minister preach. It was a simple moment; there was no fanfare, or sparkles, or benevolent deity appearing. Just an understanding. I remember thinking to myself, “Well, I love history. I love public speaking. I love religion, and spirituality. I love planning worship and rituals. And I want to truly do good things in this world, and fight for justice. Maybe I should become a minister.” That small kernel of truth became the seed that I followed for the next eleven years of my life, (and continue to), one that marked every step that I took, that led me to strange and unbelievable places, one that has defined who I am and how I interact with life in such an intense and beautiful way. I am one of the lucky few whose purpose was born as a clear north star in my heart from the moment I drew my first breath. 

The road from being that teenage girl sitting in church, to the woman I am now, has been a beautiful one. One that I could never have dreamed up in my own head. It has felt like the universe, my God, has been guiding me every step of the way, leading me to where I am needed most, and where I will be challenged to grow and learn about who I am and what life is. I dropped out of college at age 19 because I was in deep spiritual crisis, I farmed in Vermont and then California for a year, I lived in an ashram/spiritual community and studied Yogic spirituality, I’ve lived in Costa Rica and managed an Ayahuasca retreat center, and I’ve lived in multiple places in the Bay Area, California. For the first seven years of my life since that moment as a teenage girl, I focused all of my energy on my spiritual journey and purpose. As a young woman, it was my deepest desire to grow closer to God, to reach enlightenment, to perfect myself so that I would be a good spiritual leader, a true minister who could be trusted. Whose shadows wouldn’t sneak out to harm others. While this goal was, in so many ways, not healthy, and founded in insecurity, it was also a beautiful pursuit, and one that I do not regret. It was youthful, and filled with passion, and for my young self’s willingness to face so many challenges, to throw myself into ego-deaths and crises and profoundly difficult situations for the sake of growth, I am immensely grateful. Because, although I am a mightily flawed woman with much more growing to do, the work I have done over the past ten years have resulted in a self-awareness that is perhaps my greatest strength. 

When the pandemic hit, I returned from Costa Rica and found myself at ground zero. I had no desire to return to my work there, as it had become an unhealthy and traumatizing situation. And I was beginning to feel as if I wanted to bring myself back into the world. I had spent the past three years in the depths of my being, on the outskirts of society, dabbling in alternative spirituality and off-the-beaten-path lifestyles. The desire to engage with a rapidly changing world rose within me. I realized, during those early months of the pandemic, as I stayed alone in my family’s small lake cabin in New Jersey, that I wanted to be on the frontlines. That I had too much to offer to disappear into the Costa Rica sub-culture of sound healings and cacao ceremonies. So, I applied to Starr King School for the Ministry, and began the road to becoming a minister. Maybe a better way of putting it was that I finished the road to ministry. 3 years later, I finished my Master of Divinity (I took summer classes and credit-packed semesters in order to get my schooling done; I’m not one to do things slowly. And I don’t like school.) At the same time, I started attending The Chaplaincy Institute, and began my path to ordination. The same month that I turned 26, I graduated with my masters and got ordained. That was a good year. 

Right  around the backend of my schooling, I began to explore opportunities to begin my Clinical Pastoral Education. CPE, as it is referred to, is essentially a residency program for chaplains. We are required to work clinical hours, while also getting supervised and taught by CPE educators. This is an intensive program. Not only are you  learning about different methods of spiritual care, but you are also bringing forth the work you’ve done (in the form of verbatims), and having your educator and cohort cross-examine your choices, words and actions in client interactions. Typically, a chaplain or minister will take one unit of CPE. If you want to get board certified as a chaplain, you must take four. I was able to take four, which ended up being the most informational, educational and transformative experience of my entire schooling career. There’s nothing quite like hands on experience. 

In order to be part of my particular CPE program, I had to find a learning site, where I could act as intern. At the time, despite living in the Bay Area (with some of the highest site placements in the country!), I could not find any hospitals to work at. Because, in my mind, I was going to work at a hospital. I was interested in death/dying/illness, and thought that was where I was needed most. Hospital chaplaincy is also the most common and respected form of chaplaincy in the US right now, with prison and military chaplaincy following close behind. Hospitals tend to be the most common CPE program out there. And yet, I couldn’t find anything. I was in a panic for a few months, knowing that I needed to find an internship as fast as possible. One day I angrily wrote “Marin chaplaincy” into google, and The Street Chaplaincy in San Rafael appeared. 

The doors began to open from there. 

Something important to note was that I was actively uninterested in working as a street chaplain. I remember watching a panel for school one evening and listening to a street chaplain talk about her work. I thought to myself, “that’s definitely not for me, but good for her.” I was, admittedly, afraid of people who were unhoused. For no good reason other than the povertyism built inside of me. I was deeply ashamed of it, and aware that I needed to work on this part of myself, which is partially what inspired me to just go ahead and try out the internship.  I knew that I could not be a real minister, a true, good, authentic minister, if I felt afraid of people who were in the worst possible situation American life can offer. Going through this process of shedding my fear, biases and shame was powerful, and gave me insight into what so many Americans feel today about their unhoused neighbors. 

Working as a street chaplain was an immediate love for me. It truly challenged me in all the right ways. I was often alone on the streets (other than my CPE educator and mentor, I had no one to guide me), so I really had to cut my teeth the true, hard way: real life experiences. I learned pretty fast about boundaries, about showing up as authentically as possible, about what it meant to sit with people in suffering and not run away. There were so many moments where I was met with such deep and profound learning lessons that my life was altered in a matter of minutes. I loved it though; I loved being forced to trust and rely on myself; I loved meeting people in their different states, making sure that my day to day work was neither boring nor predictable; I loved how when I worked it felt like I was in another time continuum, another reality, another world where the trivial things in life simply did not matter. I saw myself, quite lovingly, in the folks I worked with, and realized that there was some piece of me that had never been met or seen before I began engaging with this community. 

I will talk more in the future about what it has been like to work as an interfaith street chaplain. It continues to be the rollercoaster ride of my life– but it is an honor to be on this ride, with these folks. They are beautiful, truly sacred human beings, and I have had the joy and privilege to really get to know a few of them. 

I often get a lot of questions wondering about how I take care of myself. People often ask me that after giving me a pitying look, understanding that perhaps I am sometimes alone in this work. I want to make something clear about myself: 

I am not an angel. I am not an angel sent from the heavens to heal the homeless. 

I am a 27 year old young woman who has a deep passion and also really just wants to live her life. 

I do not overwork myself. I don’t cross my own boundaries. I’m careful about my time, and selective about how I help others. I have a natural tendency to help, help, help, but I actively work against that tick. I am so bored of that common story, of the helper who gives and never receives; who doesn’t get money for their work; who is this perfect human being who gives all of themselves to help the world, then ultimately dies of cancer and exhaustion. 

I do not believe in that. I believe in balance, self care and self love. I am 27 and I sometimes just want to be 27.  I have a dog, who I am devoted to. I love to do jiu jitsu and kickboxing. I love camping, I love vacations, I love hiking and walking. I love to spend time with my friends. I love to go to parties and meet new people. I love having sex and exploring intimate connections. I love reading fantasy and sci-fi. I'm a Harry Potter nerd, and I think I want to learn how to knit, but I’m not quite sure. I need to take a lot of time off because I feel deeply and experience fatigue and exhaustion often. I fall into depression easily. Every month when I bleed, I need to take two days off because my cramps can be so painful I can’t move. 

So you can see, I am not an angel, I am not a perfect person. I am not here to save the homeless. I need other people to pitch in, to see that we all need to work together, because this world is far too broken to just let it keep breaking. When people ask me if I believe in the second coming of Jesus ( a common question for a minister), I say yes. I believe that the second coming of Jesus will be many, many people. Hundreds of thousands of them. All choosing to work together so that one person isn’t responsible for the weight of the world. So that we can take turns to rest, and take turns to act. I want to break this idea that one person can and should do it all. That’s not true, and I’m so not into the idea. 

So there you have it, a brief overview of where I come from, and who I am. 

To put it succinctly, so you understand what all this writing is about, let me answer this one, final question. What am I trying to do here?

When it comes down to it, I’m trying to institutionalize interfaith street chaplaincy and spiritual/emotional care for the unhoused and marginalized. I’m cringing too, by the way. As an anarchist at heart, institutionalizing anything gives me, as the kids say, the “ick”. However, there is a key piece to understand– I’m not trying to make these two things into institutions themselves (that could take on a new life and do harm). No, I’m trying to increase systems of accountability for this profession so that it is refined to be the best version of itself. My hope is that through doing this, it can become something that is widely utilized and respected throughout the country as a form of true humanitarian care for the unhoused and marginalized people of the United States. I’m sharing this information via substack, instagram, youtube and linkedin with one distinct purpose. My goal is for there to be a greater awareness and understanding of what interfaith street chaplaincy (ISC)  is; the power of interfaith spiritual care (ISCA); the vitality of chaplaincy; and the beauty of interfaith spirituality (interspirituality).

An intention I hold deeply, and above all else, is to honor and respect the individual, human lives of these marginalized peoples who I will be referring to. To honor their integrity, their strength, their autonomy, their humanness, their self knowledge and their power. If anything I say or do appears disrespectful in some way, I am open and welcome to feedback and kind criticism. This substak will not be a compilation of their lives and their stories, because I’m not there living them. I will be talking about my experiences, and any specific stories I write will have the permission from the owner of that story to be written.

I hope you will enjoy this journey with me. It is nice to feel that I am not alone, that there are others who may want to listen, to wonder, and to care. 

My plan is to post two articles a month. I’ve already got a variety of topics on queue to talk about, and I’m open to questions and topics from others. My hope is that one day this will turn into a book that will help others working in the field of homelessness and spiritual care. 

Well, good day to you all,

Rev. Charlotte H. Cramer