People ask me all the time why I work with the most vulnerable and at-risk people on the streets. Why wouldn’t I help the people on the edge of homelessness, so they don’t fall down to the bottom? Why wouldn’t I focus on those easiest to help and help as many people as I can?
My answer has a few different parts. If we are looking at a very shallow view of the issue, I would say: Money. To house one person on the streets costs very little money relative to the amount of money it takes to keep someone on the streets. If you add up every ER cost, every police encounter, every social service expense, the numbers are astounding. House this person and the numbers go down significantly.
But that’s not why I care. I care because when I am talking to a woman with matted hair, diseased feet and urine soaked blankets next to her, she teaches me something. She teaches me that she has a story and a life that I will never have. She teaches me something about strength and perseverance and stubbornness. She teaches me to appreciate life and appreciate something as simple as a new bra. She teaches me that it does not matter what a person looks like, smells like or talks like, it is something deep down that matters. She gives me this wisdom and I get the opportunity to dream with her about a better life. And that is something that no other job is quite like.
I’m not sure if you’ve ever sat down and talked to someone who has not been talked to in a very long time, but there’s some magic in it. Sometimes the person breaks out into long stories and speeches and everything they have ever memorized, sometimes, without a filter, they will tell you ever painful memory, every happy memory and every important moment in their lives. And sometimes, they won’t say anything at all…but their eyes light up and they stare and wonder why you are talking to them and why you care and wonder if you are just using them. This look should not be taken lightly. This look is often a skeptic, but sometimes filled with just enough hope that you know that this person in front of you is still in there; this person has a future and a past and their own dreams. I remember that each person on this earth is connected, each person has a story, each person has wishes and hopes and fears. And each person deserves the chance to live the life that they want to live.
There’s a man that I see quite frequently that other agencies say won’t talk and doesn’t want services. Maybe I am just a little more stubborn than they are. Day after day we go and see this man and slowly but surely he opens up to us. When he speaks, it is rapid with a thick accent a lot of hand signals. His big hands point to his head and say that he needs help. He points to his mouth and says he is hungry. We hand him a lunch and he slowly but surely puts each morsel in his mouth and points at his head again. He tells us he hears things and wants medication. We realize that the man who has been seen throwing things, screaming and sitting shirtless on the Boulevard, was simply afraid of what was going on in his head. This man couldn’t open up because he was afraid. While this man’s problems are much deeper than a single magic pill, it gives us a stepping stone to a more trusting relationship. People claim that those experiencing homelessness are lazy or don’t want help. I disagree. I think each person who sleeps on the ground wants to sleep in a real bed and have people around them that they love. The problem is that the world we live in is not set up for the masses. It is set up for the few people who are lucky enough to be born into privilege. It is set up so if you look a certain way, act a certain way or believe certain things, you are sent to the bottom. Someone has to speak up or nothing will change.
On a daily basis, I see injustices in the world. Why is it that if a white, rich man in Ohio doesn’t wake up one morning, everyone who is anyone seems to know and care. But if a man in LA who lives on the streets falls into his own deep sleep—no one cries. No one knows. It’s not news—it’s daily life. Too many people die in this world without a single real relationship. Too many people live without being heard. Too many people suffer in silence. I do what I do so at least someone hears. I do what I do because I want to hear. Sometimes all it takes is an ear to listen. Sometimes it takes more. But it is always worth the try.
A wise man once said, “It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can do little.”
So I try to do a little.
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