When we returned from the convenience store, Lee carefully separated the beer and cigarettes, placing each person's purchase into a bag along with any change owed them.
Lee, Shane and I again sat in the chairs and enjoyed a little general conversation while we waited for Deano and James to come and get their purchases. As Deano approached, a feeling of sadness and empathy came over me. His thin body looked so stiff and broken in his layers of clothing, I couldn't help but wonder what his level of discomfort must be when the nights were really cold. Given his slower gait, it was easy to assume at least a small degree of arthritis must affect him. He hadn't complained even once about his circumstances, but earlier in the day he had shocked me when he revealed his age as 56. He looked at least 10 years older.
James left the corner where he had been panhandling, approached the group to gather his things, and announced he was going to "go over and play the lottery before it was too late".
I am embarrassed to admit this, but there was a critical side of me wondering which unsuspecting person had given him the money he was about to waste on a lottery ticket. Let's face it, how many people actually win the lottery versus the amount of money they throw away on tickets? Wouldn't it be wiser to save the money for necessities like food? As much as I liked the guy, his choice really bothered me.
As James smiled and waved good-bye to everyone, I wished him well, and truly meant it. Thoughts of him actually winning the lottery intrigued me. In my head, I wondered, if he really did win, would he share this good fortune with the other men? Imaginary scenes of Deano, Lee and James sipping fancy drinks poolside came to mind. Funny thing was, I realized in this vision, they all acted just as they had on the day I visited with them. The only thing different was their location and circumstance. It occurred to me then how ordinary these men really were, lives full of ups and downs, obstacles and dreams. They get up in the morning and go about their day same as you and me, with the only huge difference being the fact I have a permanent roof over my head to go home to each night. How on earth had I never realized I thought anything different?
Shortly after James left, it was also time for us to go. As I thanked Lee and Deano for chatting with me, Lee invited me back some day. "Hey, maybe next time you can fly a sign!" he laughed, referring to a time when Shane actually had stood on the corner with a sign inscribed "I want to understand", trying to absorb what the men felt. I smiled with the image but immediately my mind began to wonder what would happen if I really did stand on a corner with a homemade sign, asking for money? How would people react? Would a woman be met with compassion, cruelty, extortion or kindness? The thoughts of possible degradation made me shudder. Even though I hadn't met her, Lee's friend Jennifer came to mind. I decided I wanted to talk to a woman who lived on the streets and hear her story. So many reasons of why a female could be homeless filled my mind. How would she know who to trust? How does she stay safe? How heavy are the burdens she carries?
Shane drove me back to my car, parking behind it. He asked if I wanted to 'process the day'. As we chatted and shared some of the conversation I had with Deano, Shane commented he found it interesting how quickly the men had opened up to a woman, sharing some of their personal life experiences with a complete stranger. I believe part of their willingness to share so readily was due to my gender, but also realized in their eyes I was not a threat in any way because of their total trust in Shane. I was simply viewed as an extension of him. It suddenly occurred to me that I had never thought much about a homeless persons' need for sincere personal relationships.
As I digested thoughts about these men, these warm blooded, feeling, human beings, Shane lifted his hand and pointed out the window. "Look".
Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a mob of people, perhaps 15-20 running across the street in a mad frenzy. The scene looked like a smaller version of the news clips shown of WalMart's black Friday sales.
The people were bundled in heavy clothing, with some carrying bags, all hurrying in a frantic rush with arms flailing and legs pumping to stay at the front of the pack. They were all running toward a building about a city block up from us.
Completely stunned and confused, I asked "Oh my God, what's going on?"
"The Lottery" replied Shane.
He explained the reason James had left early was to put his name on the list for the Lottery. If you signed up, and were one of the first ones there by the cutoff time, you won the privilege of staying the night at the homeless shelter. First come, first serve. I guess on a cold winter's night it really is hitting the jackpot to have a warm cot, a stable shelter and a hot meal. It then dawned on me that not everyone was a winner.
I've taken a while to write this third entry partly because I cannot put into words the way this whole experience made me feel. Sad, embarrassed, angry, broken and hopeless are some of the words that come to mind. On so many levels, I wonder why homelessness even exists in our society, be it circumstantial or chosen.
One topic of conversation I had with Deano not discussed in any of my entries, is a harsh reality all homeless people face. They can't take advantage of any public assistance, because they don't have a physical street address. With the maze and conditions of financial penalty imposed by the Social Security Administration, even people entitled to Social Security or Disability oftentimes cannot fully utilize their benefits. This can leave them victim to extortion. This is a subject I'm researching and hope to share later because I find it very relevant to the resolution of homelessness. It's a disturbing thought to imagine the amount of people who may want a better situation, even willing to work for it, but have no means of ever getting the chance to help themselves. What a vicious, hopeless circle. It's easy to for people to say "well, they should have made better choices".
Can we always be so sure?
What I've come to realize is that by human nature, we judge anything that is different. Maybe not consciously, but it's there.
I personally thought I knew myself better. Having volunteered much of my adult life helping those less fortunate, I think subconsciously I believed I understood. Nope. No matter what, I can't understand why someone would accept living on the streets but I can accept them as a real person, regardless of their reasons and not judge. Their lifestyle may be different, but their basic human needs are the same as you and I.
After reading my other entries, my husband said "Aim, I'm sorry but I don't understand what the point of your story is."
I asked him "What do you think when you read it?".
He thought for a very long moment. "I don't know. It humanizes them, but I still don't know what you're trying to convey".
I appreciated his honesty.
I suddenly realized this isn't my story to tell. It's theirs, and if you take the time to pull up a chair and listen, you just might learn a thing or two, maybe even about yourself.
**For more information regarding the Social Security Administrations rules and regulations on serving those who are homeless, please visit http://www.socialsecurity.gov/homelessness/.
