Homeless

Homeless people.

They are the bane of the existence of the susburbanite. Their stench and their needles and their very being seems to fill the average suburbanites with existential dread. They look away or look down and avoid eye contact as they mumble whatever excuse they have for not giving the 50 cents in their pockets.

I get it. I mean, they're scary. They represent everything to fear about failure. They have no job, no money and no place to be. They have no family and no one seems to care enough to give them a space. They are drug addicts and the insane... but that's just the party line.  I know, because I was one of them.

For a little over 4 years I was homeless off and on, and only one of those was by anything that could be considered any kind of choice. I spent time in 5 different cities in 4 different states, traveling about in the late 80s to early 90s. I met the insane and the drug addicts and the dispossessed and I have to tell you something.

They are people. Just like you and me, they are people. They have hopes and dreams and a lot of them wish beyond anything they could find a way out of what is a hard scrabble existence filled with politics, commerce and constant vigilance against The Man (who wants you to be illegal by being in your circumstance) and your fellows.

I have seen cops beat down a man for talking back and moving too slowly in packing his tent in a park. I have seen punks give a skinhead a curby and I have seen those same punks attack random people for looking at them or taking pictures. I have known hunger and thirst to the point I know exactly when you'll consider theft as an option just to eat.

I have known live and joy and laughter as well. I have made some fast friendships that lasted 20+ years and followed us off the streets and into a different existance. I have chosen family and know the tight bonds created by the shared trauma of knowing we will not be protected from the elements this night.

I have known the wisdom of these people. I know what it takes. I know why they stink, and why the needles are there. I know what they mean when they ask for money, and I know who to and not to give it to based solely on how they ask (the scammers have the long stories, most often). I know why you sleep with your boots off and wrap them in your coat as a pillow while you sleep. I know the Krishna Temples will feed you once or twice a week and that shelters are a place of last resort.

These people lives like no others. They see more in a few days than most will in a year, and they want more than anything to be treated with dignity.

So the next time you see that homeless person, think of them apart from what you see initially. Look them in the eye when they ask you a question and tell them the truth. If you don't have the money, try to have the time to let them know. And if you  can, that place right over there has a means of paying for the very food this person needs.

And if you really have the time? Sit and chat. You might just meet some really interesting folks.