Looking Poverty in the Eyes

Those who know me well know that poverty and homelessness are issues that are very close to my heart. In fact, the concept of homelessness has plagued me since I can remember; it just doesn’t make sense from a childlike perception of the world. We have all these empty houses, but people are dying on the streets. That’s what I thought when I was 7, and I still hold those values to some extent (albeit hopefully in a more sophisticated and detailed analysis). The past few months especially, I’ve felt a dissonance in my spiritual life because of my lack of action on behalf of the poor. I don’t mean that in a “look how philanthropic I am” way at all because everyone is called to different issues, but in my personal life, I truly felt like a hypocrite to say that I follow Jesus while walking by those He would have ministered to. Obviously, I’m not Jesus, so I can’t possibly carry the weight of injustice and poverty on my shoulders. Still, I felt like I was allowing privilege and apathy to shape my attitude, and I feared callusing my heart to the point where the issues would stop even hurting me. Based on this prompting and my realization that I wouldn’t be in school this semester, I decided super early in my diagnosis that I was in the midst of a grand opportunity to start a project (when I felt well). I decided to go hang out with homeless people and see what happened. Simple as that.

The first time I drove downtown with the blind goal of walking around and randomly meeting people, I was a bit nervous. It’s funny because I’ve volunteered in quite a few non-profits, shelters, etc, but this felt different. This was real. I wasn’t worried about safety or anything like that (since I was in public areas in broad daylight), but the social faux pas of walking right up to someone and starting a conversation seemed relevant and daunting. Still, I quickly realized it’s not hard to engage if you show people you really just want to get to know them. Some of my conversations have lasted 10 minutes and some have lasted over an hour, but it’s always exciting to trust the Holy Spirit and just listen to what people have to say. I’m hoping that the few conversations I’ve had so far will grow into many more over the next few months. This time is an amazing opportunity for me to meet people that I would never run into on a normal basis, at least not under such raw conditions. I love the volunteer work that’s available downtown, but there’s still something much more human about becoming friends out in the “real world” without an agenda of helping, changing, convincing, selling etc. I just want to show others that they are valuable and loved. Not to mention, I’ve heard some outrageous stories that I definitely wouldn’t get in my normal social stratosphere. I’ve also noticed that it can be easier for me to feel comfortable with those from a lower income. Especially with the homeless, the rules that confine “acceptable” interaction hold much less weight. Talking, laughing, and joking are less complicated without the masks of Facebook perfection that often block genuine relationships. There’s no need for a facade. We’re already sitting on the street corner chilling. Although one would think I have very little in common with homeless men 30 years my prior, there’s quite a bit of inherently human topics for us to draw on. It’s still awkward at first, but life just isn’t that complicated. All this to say, the next time you pass a homeless man selling a newspaper, consider smiling and saying a few words. Even if you don’t buy the paper, it’s imperative to remember that these men and women have real lives and stories. On that note, I think I may write a book about all the people I’ve met, so we’ll see how that goes. If anyone knows a publisher, that’d be superb.

One of my new friends, Willie