On a crisp November morning in Birmingham, as Christmas markets begin to sparkle around the city centre, a different scene unfolds outside St Philip's Cathedral. Here, a queue of approximately 150 people experiencing homelessness waits patiently, not just for a warm breakfast, but for the invaluable chance to connect with friends who understand their daily struggles.
The Hidden Language of Survival
Within this community, a unique lexicon has developed to describe the harsh realities of life on the streets. Conversations after coffee and porridge often revolve around two main activities, referred to by their specific slang terms. Wayne, a formerly homeless construction worker who now supports others, acts as an interpreter for this secret language.
He explains: "'Snubbing' is searching for tobacco from old cigarette butts, and 'tapping' is asking for change." For Wayne, these activities were more than just desperate measures; they provided a crucial routine that structured his day between visits to food banks and support groups like Let's Feed Brum, Feedo Needo, and Street Banquet.
A Journey from the Streets to Stability
Wayne's own story highlights the immense challenges faced by those without a home. He endured periods of severe mental and physical health decline, at one point seeing his oxygen levels drop to a life-threatening 70%. His path to recovery was long and arduous, taking six years and involving the support of the Crisis charity, formal training, and a dedicated personal mentor.
Today, Wayne has a job and uses his spare time to support those still living on Birmingham's streets. He consciously uses the familiar slang terms like 'snubbing' and 'tapping' to build trust and make people feel understood. He is quick to acknowledge, however, that his successful transition out of homelessness remains a "rare one," especially as the UK faces record levels of people in temporary accommodation driven by deprivation and the ongoing cost-of-living crisis.
More Than Just a Meal: The Power of Connection
The true value of initiatives like Let's Feed Brum extends far beyond the food served. The breakfast event, held every Tuesday and Thursday morning at the cathedral, fosters a profound sense of community.
Reverend Canon Andy Delmege of St Philip's Cathedral, who helps at the events, witnesses this daily. "What's more important than the food or the clothes is that Let's Feed Brum is very relational," he says. "There's a definite benefit for people's mental health in terms of people being a bit more socialised. People even become volunteers for things."
This is perfectly embodied by Mike, who moved into a council flat in 1997 but still attends the breakfasts nearly two decades later. For him, it's not about the food, but the "community." His reason is simple yet powerful: "Someone listening is the most important thing." In a world that often overlooks them, being heard can be the most vital support of all.
