This CNN Hero offers Skid Row's homeless food and hope, but she also brings 'Beauty 2 the Streetz'

Rain or shine, she units up "shop" weekly at the nook of fifth and Townes to serve these she calls "Kings" and "Queens." Her objective: to make the homeless really feel human, whether or not meaning a haircut, a facial, a hearty meal, or a hug."It's not so much just giving them makeup or doing their hair, it's also the physical touch," Raines mentioned. "People need physical touch. That's what was hard when the pandemic hit. We had to stop doing hair, we had to stop doing barber services. And that might be the nicest touch they've had all day."Raines, who for years struggled with monetary insecurity, grief and loss after the demise of her first son, says she is aware of the way it feels to be labeled."The world looked at me and thought probably the same thing they think about the homeless when they pass them by," she mentioned. "You never know what anyone's going through, you know?"In 1990, Raines' then 2-year-old son Demetrius was staying with Raines' grandmother when he unintentionally ingested medicine and was hospitalized. He died on Sept. 6, 1990, simply shy of his third birthday."I blamed myself for not having stability. If only I'd had my own backyard. If only I'd had my stuff together," Raines mentioned. "The woman who had given me so much in life was also the cause of my greatest loss. And how do you rationalize that as a 20-year-old? You don't. You break inside."Soon after, Raines also confronted the lack of her grandmother and then her son's organic father to most cancers. "I just fell apart. I lived a very unhappy life. I couldn't keep anything together," she mentioned. "I'm telling you, anything that I could do to get myself out of this planet, this world, I tried it. And I'm still here, you know? And I'm like, 'What is this about?'"After combating nervousness and panic dysfunction for many years, it was Raines' twin sister who stepped in, urging Raines to discover a goal for her ache.That goal got here in 2017 when Raines joined a church group on a feeding mission."I went to Skid Row, I'm like, 'Oh, this is where all the broken people are? Oh, I've been looking for y'all all my life," she mentioned. "I never wanted to leave. It's a place where people have amazing hearts, but nobody can see it because they can't see the forest for the trees."At first, Raines, who sports activities brightly coloured hair and make-up, handed out clothes, food and water. But when a number of Skid Row residents complimented her look, she provided to do their hair and make-up. "I started with the Trans community," Raines mentioned. "They were telling me that no one would give them women's clothes because they were men. I'm like, 'Girl, I'll bring you some women's clothes. I'll bring wigs, I'll bring you eyelashes.'"Raines noticed the fast carry of their spirit when their souls had been cared for."It plants a little bit of self-esteem in them, so they feel like, OK, maybe no one knows I'm homeless because I have a fresh cut," she mentioned. Early on, Raines teamed up with a group group of motorbike lovers known as 'Fighters for The World MC' who accompany her on Skid Row to offer security and construction."They're like big brothers," Raines mentioned. "A lot of the homeless would get lost. They couldn't find us, but they learned to follow the sounds of the bikes."As Raines' efforts developed right into a full-scale operation, with music enjoying and traces forming round the block, she started offering more provides and necessities: rape whistles, tents, sleeping baggage, hygiene objects -- and she teamed up with native well being officers to supply more providers. Heidi Behforouz, medical director for Housing for Health, a program of the L.A. County Department of Health Services, has labored with Raines on the streets and says "she is giving people hope, a break, dignity, some fun ... just reminding us that we're all human.""I think Shirley represents the best of us," Behforouz mentioned. "There are common denominators that we all share. And I think it's critical in this moment, when we've all been through relative trauma, to have moments of peace, and happiness, and dignity."Before the pandemic, Raines was making 400 meals per week in her one-bedroom residence kitchen in Long Beach and driving thrice per week to Downtown Los Angeles to feed and deliver provides to folks.Then, as Covid-19 affected many organizations' efforts, providers dried up. But Raines pivoted, choosing bagged lunches and a tweaked schedule -- and she stored going."When I went out there, it was like a scene from The Walking Dead," Raines mentioned. "All the resources had stopped. People stopped coming to feed. People were starving. Some people had socks tied around their face, around their nose."Raines struggled to seek out sufficient ingesting water and food to buy, so she appealed to her followers over social media who stepped up with donations and provides. In tandem with the well being division, which supplied masks, sanitizer and PPE, Raines mentioned her group and different L.A. County non-profits and group tasks labored tirelessly to serve the unseen group. "We just had to use our best judgment and figure out some ways to still keep them fed, while keeping them safe, and while keeping us safe," Raines mentioned. Today, as vaccination charges are on the rise and a way of normality is returning, Raines is providing assist by the use of food and provides twice per week and increasing partnerships with native teams to let this often-overlooked inhabitants know there may be hope.(*2*)