This post was actually written for a class I took in the spring. You may be thinking" why post it here now?" the answer is, my straight up laziness. I know it doesn't seem to fit the normal feel for this blog, but I hope my three readers can still enjoy it. It was a website I created to try get get people to treat Homeless people better, but it's a little out of context so I hope you can still follow, anyway here it is
I met David and Carl downtown Salt Lake City Utah one night around 8 o'clock. I was walking down Rio grande street towards the Gateway mall, when a black man with a dirty Levi jacket and pants about five sizes too small jumped in my path. Before I could react to the inevitable attack (we all conjure up in our minds when we walk in this part of town) I was simply asked,
" was Ingrid Bergman in the movie Casablanca?"
I answered, "yes, I believe that was her."
The man grinned hugely and turned to another man sitting on the ground, leaning on a building and said "I told you so."
The man sitting on the ground didn't accept my movie authority as readily. He decided to quiz me. "Well then, who acted in The African Queen?"
Without hesitation I responded "Katherine Hepburn" That seemed to qualify me as an expert and settle the debate.
I asked the man standing in front of me, who was still beaming from his victory in the argument, if they wanted to grab something to eat.
"Hell yes'' the man said and I turned and looked at the other sitting who seemed less enthused and simply said "sure". While we were walking tom the food court at the gateway mall I discovered the names of my two dinner companions. (Although I have changed their names on my blog )The jovial victor of the earlier argument was David. The surly, suspicious one was Carl. I asked them if it would be alright to ask them questions and told them about my blog. Carl surprised me, as I had thought he might be opposed, when he told me "that's cool because most people don't give a shit about us".
He then showed me an I.D. card with his name on it and asked " do you know James Talmage?"
I answered him "not personally, but I've read a book he wrote".
He responded with an unnerving intensity "Thats right he wrote the best books in the world. Now look at my name, I'm his great grand-son but do you think anyone in this city cares? they wont do shit for me."
I asked him " What do you want them to do? "
He laughed at the outrage of the question but it was clear from the look in his eyes he didn't think it funny. " They can start by giving a shit if I live or die" he told me, "look at me I have nothing. I used to have everything , but now, nothing." David didn't seem to notice any of this conversation and as we got in line at the subway sandwich shop was wondering aloud if they had hot chocolate
We ordered our sandwiches (unfortunately for David they didn't have hot chocolate) and sat at a table in the food court. As we ate I couldn't help but notice the disdainful looks from the others at the surrounding tables. My two guests didn't even seem to notice while they ate food like someone was going to count to thirty and take the remaining food away. I asked them where they were originally from. David told me Detroit, and Carl told me everywhere.I then asked if they had any future plans. They both resoundingly said yes. David said he wanted to move to a small town where it was warmer and that he was"plenty strong enough, you know for farm work and such". Carl told me he didn't know how much longer he would be alive.
"Why is that Carl"? I asked him.
"Because, do you know what it's like out here?" There was a long pause, he really wanted me to answer
" nope, I really can't say I do" I told him.
"look at these shitforbrains hyenas over here" he said pointing to a bunch of teenage boys. "they might jump me as soon as I leave this place" Right as soon as he said that i was reminded of the news story in 2006 when some Florida teens were beating homeless people to death with baseball bats. As I looked at the boys I now saw them as a threat, like Carl would. I could now understand his bitterness, having to size up every situation for survival.
I've heard people say "if somebody wants a job they can get one", and at that moment I was reaffirmed that nobody in there right mind would choose this existence because of laziness. Not Carl, who lived in fear of others and even talked about taking his own life. Not David who seemed careless yet dreamt of farm work in nice warm place sipping hot chocolate I'm sure.
As we walked back to towards the Road Home, passed all the sneering teens, whom normally I wouldn't even have noticed, I couldn't ask anymore questions I could only ponder the new world I had discovered that i had tried to walk by and ignore for my entire life. I knew when I walked by now looking in the eyes of the homeless, I would think of farm dreams or just making it through the night. And as if willed alone by David, the Mission across the street was serving Hot chocolate
One of the programs I've been volunteering at is the Road Home playtime program. I go once a week and simply play with the children for an hour. For the first months I dutifully showed up and played my part as the mobile Jungle Gym. I felt as though it was a true sacrifice. I didn't think I was getting or needed anything personally out of my experience. After a few months of being a regular, the children became familiar and expected my showing up to toss them around the room. I believed that all I represented was a giant toy. One day after the hour had ended, I was walking down the hall when I noticed one of the children who had missed playtime because of another activity. She saw me and smiled, but her smile disappeared quickly and turned into a look of sadness as she asked "They had playtime tonight? I answered "yeah, I was wondering where you were". She grabbed my hand and asked me to walk her to her room. While we were walking she asked since she had missed playroom could she have a shoulder ride. I tossed her up on my shoulders and walked her the rest of the way to h
er room. After I dropped her off at her room, and promised three times to return the following week, I began down the hallway again. This time I had to fight back tears as I thought of how life was going to give this six year old the very worst it had to offer. I walked out on the street and looked at the people out there and just kept thinking about my little friend, helplessly hoping that some sort of intervention would sweep her away from that life. A life she never chose for herself.
I met David and Carl downtown Salt Lake City Utah one night around 8 o'clock. I was walking down Rio grande street towards the Gateway mall, when a black man with a dirty Levi jacket and pants about five sizes too small jumped in my path. Before I could react to the inevitable attack (we all conjure up in our minds when we walk in this part of town) I was simply asked,
" was Ingrid Bergman in the movie Casablanca?"
I answered, "yes, I believe that was her."
The man grinned hugely and turned to another man sitting on the ground, leaning on a building and said "I told you so."
The man sitting on the ground didn't accept my movie authority as readily. He decided to quiz me. "Well then, who acted in The African Queen?"
Without hesitation I responded "Katherine Hepburn" That seemed to qualify me as an expert and settle the debate.
I asked the man standing in front of me, who was still beaming from his victory in the argument, if they wanted to grab something to eat.
"Hell yes'' the man said and I turned and looked at the other sitting who seemed less enthused and simply said "sure". While we were walking tom the food court at the gateway mall I discovered the names of my two dinner companions. (Although I have changed their names on my blog )The jovial victor of the earlier argument was David. The surly, suspicious one was Carl. I asked them if it would be alright to ask them questions and told them about my blog. Carl surprised me, as I had thought he might be opposed, when he told me "that's cool because most people don't give a shit about us".
He then showed me an I.D. card with his name on it and asked " do you know James Talmage?"
I answered him "not personally, but I've read a book he wrote".
He responded with an unnerving intensity "Thats right he wrote the best books in the world. Now look at my name, I'm his great grand-son but do you think anyone in this city cares? they wont do shit for me."
I asked him " What do you want them to do? "
He laughed at the outrage of the question but it was clear from the look in his eyes he didn't think it funny. " They can start by giving a shit if I live or die" he told me, "look at me I have nothing. I used to have everything , but now, nothing." David didn't seem to notice any of this conversation and as we got in line at the subway sandwich shop was wondering aloud if they had hot chocolate
We ordered our sandwiches (unfortunately for David they didn't have hot chocolate) and sat at a table in the food court. As we ate I couldn't help but notice the disdainful looks from the others at the surrounding tables. My two guests didn't even seem to notice while they ate food like someone was going to count to thirty and take the remaining food away. I asked them where they were originally from. David told me Detroit, and Carl told me everywhere.I then asked if they had any future plans. They both resoundingly said yes. David said he wanted to move to a small town where it was warmer and that he was"plenty strong enough, you know for farm work and such". Carl told me he didn't know how much longer he would be alive.
"Why is that Carl"? I asked him.
"Because, do you know what it's like out here?" There was a long pause, he really wanted me to answer
" nope, I really can't say I do" I told him.
"look at these shitforbrains hyenas over here" he said pointing to a bunch of teenage boys. "they might jump me as soon as I leave this place" Right as soon as he said that i was reminded of the news story in 2006 when some Florida teens were beating homeless people to death with baseball bats. As I looked at the boys I now saw them as a threat, like Carl would. I could now understand his bitterness, having to size up every situation for survival.
I've heard people say "if somebody wants a job they can get one", and at that moment I was reaffirmed that nobody in there right mind would choose this existence because of laziness. Not Carl, who lived in fear of others and even talked about taking his own life. Not David who seemed careless yet dreamt of farm work in nice warm place sipping hot chocolate I'm sure.
As we walked back to towards the Road Home, passed all the sneering teens, whom normally I wouldn't even have noticed, I couldn't ask anymore questions I could only ponder the new world I had discovered that i had tried to walk by and ignore for my entire life. I knew when I walked by now looking in the eyes of the homeless, I would think of farm dreams or just making it through the night. And as if willed alone by David, the Mission across the street was serving Hot chocolate
One of the programs I've been volunteering at is the Road Home playtime program. I go once a week and simply play with the children for an hour. For the first months I dutifully showed up and played my part as the mobile Jungle Gym. I felt as though it was a true sacrifice. I didn't think I was getting or needed anything personally out of my experience. After a few months of being a regular, the children became familiar and expected my showing up to toss them around the room. I believed that all I represented was a giant toy. One day after the hour had ended, I was walking down the hall when I noticed one of the children who had missed playtime because of another activity. She saw me and smiled, but her smile disappeared quickly and turned into a look of sadness as she asked "They had playtime tonight? I answered "yeah, I was wondering where you were". She grabbed my hand and asked me to walk her to her room. While we were walking she asked since she had missed playroom could she have a shoulder ride. I tossed her up on my shoulders and walked her the rest of the way to her room. After I dropped her off at her room, and promised three times to return the following week, I began down the hallway again. This time I had to fight back tears as I thought of how life was going to give this six year old the very worst it had to offer. I walked out on the street and looked at the people out there and just kept thinking about my little friend, helplessly hoping that some sort of intervention would sweep her away from that life. A life she never chose for herself.My point of this entire site is this. If we can't treat our most down trodden of humanity with respect, then how can we even call ourselves humane. As I have tried to point out, most of the people whom live on the streets are not just lazy,drugies, drunks, or simply just looking for a handout. They are the very soldiers you hear being praised on the news for delivering freedom 40% of all homeless served in the armed forces.(Department of Veteran Affairs, 2005).
They are children who have never been able to choose much of anything 39% of homeless are under 18 and 41% of those are under the age of 5. They are abused women, the mentally ill, and dare I say it, the racially oppressed.42% are African-American. 12% of the entire untied states is African- American.(U.S. Census Bureau, 2003; U.S. Conference of Mayors, 2007)
we allow ourselves to label and de-humanize these people, so that we can might feel better about our own inaction. If they are not human, then why feel guilt? If they truly are just lazy, or working the system then they get what they are asking for. My hope is that we start small, just giving the homeless their human dignity. When we take that away, we give a great big okay to those would extort and abuse in the most hideous ways possible,including even murder. Like with any social problem, we tend to lump everyone together. There are those who will abuse any system that will be created, however if the numbers are examined then you will see that this is the exception rather than the rule. In my own limited personal experience, one constant with every homeless person I've spoken with is the comment, "when I get out of here". Maybe it's lip service, but I didn't offer anything, just an ear. Some voiced bitterness, others were actually grateful, all however, wanted to change their circumstance.
They are children who have never been able to choose much of anything 39% of homeless are under 18 and 41% of those are under the age of 5. They are abused women, the mentally ill, and dare I say it, the racially oppressed.42% are African-American. 12% of the entire untied states is African- American.(U.S. Census Bureau, 2003; U.S. Conference of Mayors, 2007)
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Oh my Phil!! Now I think I'm about to cry. So tell me this how are you not married yet with your huge heart?
ReplyDeleteNot to discourage comments, but what does me being single have to do with homeless or writing or even writing about homeless? wait a minute, is that you mom? just kidding I know it's not because she wont even read my stuff.
ReplyDeleteI really like this post.. good insight to a world many of us, myself included, know little to nothing about, could generally care less for, and stereotype and mis-judge like many other things and people. Thanks for opening my eyes a bit.
ReplyDelete