Alexis the Panhandler
This is a post I typed about a month ago while living and studying in Denver. I never actually posted it... Sorry it's late, but it's still relevant! [Maybe even more-so as I witness a different level of homeless in Haiti now... More on that in another post :) ]
Today, my fellow students and I took a class, one of our classes I'm taking for credit, called Global Urbanization, to better understand homelessness. In the class, we were paired off and given a packet that covers different aspects of homelessness such as shame, mental illness, the need for food and shelter, family, and addiction. For each category, we went to a different corner to read the description and pray about the matter. It was very enlightening for me to read about the various circumstances that homeless face daily. On top of the imminent threat of gang violence or even assault at the hands of local police, (which I know of because of my first-hand witness of a policeman kicking sleeping homeless men in the park), thirty percent of homeless people have some sort of mental disability. To better experience the shame, we even panhandled at one of the street corners by holding up a sign saying, “Anything helps.” By chance, I had dressed a bit like a homeless person this day anyway (I'm not a morning person, so I don't quite look my best at morning classes), and it was very real to see how others on the road reacted to me, who they perceived as actually homeless. One of my guy-friends across the road even began jokingly yelling at me to, “get a job.” Because of the general public's oblivion to the class I was attending, they assumed I was truly a homeless girl being harassed. A woman at the stoplight, no more than 15 feet away from me, saw the entire "harassment" exchange, and I observed her reaction without unveiling that the situation was actually a hoax. Still, the woman didn’t make eye contact with me or try to help my situation in any way. "Don't get involved" I could practically hear her think. "This girl is not your problem. The situation is probably her fault anyway. Maybe the guy is right and she really should just get a job" her face says. However, at a final attempt to show her loyalties on the matter, possibly because I'm clearly a young girl, she gave my friend, the "harasser," a horribly dirty look before speeding away from the entire situation and any possible moral conflict it may bring. Although all my friend had done was verbalize what she was probably thinking, she felt comfortable condemning him for his heartlessness without doing anything to actually help or comfort me, the victim. The contradiction was fascinating and saddening. How many times have I condemned others for their lack of respect and compassion while I simultaneously contributed to the problem by not helping or comforting the actual victims? It seems to be much easier to acknowledge the disrespect of others and the generalized problems in society without taking action, readjusting our mindset, or even dignify the victim. Yes, it would be great if homeless people would all just get jobs. However, this condescending thought from the minds of those who probably will never be in the situation themselves is not very helpful as a simply stated sentence. Laziness can be very legitimate in certain cases, but mental disabilities, lack of education, hopelessness, and abuse are often just as real. I'm not implying the wealthy should blindly adopt the homeless into their houses or even shower them with money (if it's an option, I prefer fostering independence and self-respect by allowing the needy to work and be part of the process instead of giving them everything as a hand-out). I am, however, implying that we should not pass judgement or deny others the humanity of simple eye-contact and verbal exchanges. In addition to the empathy I gained from my imposition as a homeless person, I gained insight into the minds of the wealthy, maybe even into my own mind. By seeing both sides of the problem and the prejudices that seem almost as treacherous as the physical aspect, I hope to begin to undo my own preconceived notions so that I may more humbly and lovingly approach every situation. I don't know the lives of others, and even if I did, I am in no position to judge them. I only hope to be a beacon of peace and reconciliation by reflecting the love of God. After all, his own son, Jesus, wandered from village to village. He was technically homeless.
Today, my fellow students and I took a class, one of our classes I'm taking for credit, called Global Urbanization, to better understand homelessness. In the class, we were paired off and given a packet that covers different aspects of homelessness such as shame, mental illness, the need for food and shelter, family, and addiction. For each category, we went to a different corner to read the description and pray about the matter. It was very enlightening for me to read about the various circumstances that homeless face daily. On top of the imminent threat of gang violence or even assault at the hands of local police, (which I know of because of my first-hand witness of a policeman kicking sleeping homeless men in the park), thirty percent of homeless people have some sort of mental disability. To better experience the shame, we even panhandled at one of the street corners by holding up a sign saying, “Anything helps.” By chance, I had dressed a bit like a homeless person this day anyway (I'm not a morning person, so I don't quite look my best at morning classes), and it was very real to see how others on the road reacted to me, who they perceived as actually homeless. One of my guy-friends across the road even began jokingly yelling at me to, “get a job.” Because of the general public's oblivion to the class I was attending, they assumed I was truly a homeless girl being harassed. A woman at the stoplight, no more than 15 feet away from me, saw the entire "harassment" exchange, and I observed her reaction without unveiling that the situation was actually a hoax. Still, the woman didn’t make eye contact with me or try to help my situation in any way. "Don't get involved" I could practically hear her think. "This girl is not your problem. The situation is probably her fault anyway. Maybe the guy is right and she really should just get a job" her face says. However, at a final attempt to show her loyalties on the matter, possibly because I'm clearly a young girl, she gave my friend, the "harasser," a horribly dirty look before speeding away from the entire situation and any possible moral conflict it may bring. Although all my friend had done was verbalize what she was probably thinking, she felt comfortable condemning him for his heartlessness without doing anything to actually help or comfort me, the victim. The contradiction was fascinating and saddening. How many times have I condemned others for their lack of respect and compassion while I simultaneously contributed to the problem by not helping or comforting the actual victims? It seems to be much easier to acknowledge the disrespect of others and the generalized problems in society without taking action, readjusting our mindset, or even dignify the victim. Yes, it would be great if homeless people would all just get jobs. However, this condescending thought from the minds of those who probably will never be in the situation themselves is not very helpful as a simply stated sentence. Laziness can be very legitimate in certain cases, but mental disabilities, lack of education, hopelessness, and abuse are often just as real. I'm not implying the wealthy should blindly adopt the homeless into their houses or even shower them with money (if it's an option, I prefer fostering independence and self-respect by allowing the needy to work and be part of the process instead of giving them everything as a hand-out). I am, however, implying that we should not pass judgement or deny others the humanity of simple eye-contact and verbal exchanges. In addition to the empathy I gained from my imposition as a homeless person, I gained insight into the minds of the wealthy, maybe even into my own mind. By seeing both sides of the problem and the prejudices that seem almost as treacherous as the physical aspect, I hope to begin to undo my own preconceived notions so that I may more humbly and lovingly approach every situation. I don't know the lives of others, and even if I did, I am in no position to judge them. I only hope to be a beacon of peace and reconciliation by reflecting the love of God. After all, his own son, Jesus, wandered from village to village. He was technically homeless.
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