Still A Conscientious Objector to Shelter's Poor Treatment of Homeless People

You might be wondering when I am going to get past my objections to the poor treatment of people at the Volunteers of America Sheridan Community Homeless Shelter.
So am I.
I confess there is no little conflict within me between wanting to be seen as a nice guy by everyone, and feeling obligated by conscience and faith to call fouls in order to set things right.
There is no doubt in my mind that the abuses at the shelter continue as a natural mode of operation. There isn’t a day goes by when I don’t wonder whose innate dignity, self-esteem, or value is being crushed under the jackboots (or tennies) of the director and her well-curded staff.
If an outfit is operating under the premise of a compassionate and kind response to people in need, but, actually operates with a stunted lifeless pretense of compassion and kindness, there will result four characteristics as this outfit – let’s call it “the shelter” – attempts to bridge its pretense with reality:
1. Hypocrisy. You say you do one thing, but you do another.
2. Deception. You have to find new ways to keep up the façade to gain and keep the trust (and the cash) of the community.
3. Manipulation. The people you supposedly serve find themselves lorded over and controlled by fear.
4. Dismissiveness. Dignity and respect that are due every person is consciously withheld. The person him/herself is tossed out like used tissue when they will not submit to #3. The CEO of VOA seems AOK with this as long as he believes the crinkled tissue “only” represents 10 percent of the residents. I think one person so treated is too many.
This, then, is no time for me to fold my hands and bless the endeavors (“E for ‘effort’” rather than “O for ‘odious’”) of a work-gone-sour in my community that is clearly hypocritical, deceptive, manipulative and dismissive. That may be the quiet “nice guy” thing to do, but, it requires a good man doing nothing to allow the triumph of evil. Thanks Edmund Burke.
So, this is still me, blowing my little trumpet.