Trying to fit in when you don’t have the resources to fit in is quite a challenge. Here’s another journal entry about homelessness in suburbia.
There are so many challenges for homeless people, I can’t even begin to scratch the surface. What I can do is give people some things to think about. That’s really all I’m trying to do here. As humanitarians, what can we do to help?
Wants and needs
I’m quickly slowing down, meaning my life pace. What’s the hurry? I have no place to go, no friends to see, no job to work and no house to clean. Also, moving around, as I mentioned earlier, cost money. All moves must be well planned. I have time to plan.
There’s one thing I still haven’t figured out. Where does one wash their hair? Or shower, for that matter? I wonder if I should apply for a job here at Starbucks? No. Saturdays are slow here and there’s not enough people for me to blend in.
Needs, as defined by area type:
Nobody wants to give you gas money. Honestly, I would have never thought of gas being a “need,” but in suburbia, you do need it for survival. If I were really in this situation, I would be driving around looking for a job, and maybe some more assistance until I find one. I will not judge people that ask for gas money ever again. I don’t know if I ever did that, but now I know I won’t.
As for relationships being on the list, it’s really lonely out here. Homeless people are human beings with feelings. Again, not something I can experience in the way that real homeless people do, but enough to know I don’t ever want to be homeless. How often do you think homeless people get invited to a friend’s house for dinner?
It’s time to move my car to the parking garage for my all day shade. Should I go to the mall or the local apartments?
I chose the apartments. Less traffic, and there were no signs stating “residents only.” I decided to walk across the street to the mall. It’s across the street, but not a close walk by any stretch of the imagination. Remember, it’s suburbia. When you walk anywhere for any reason, you get the looks from people in their vehicles that say, “Oh, I’m so sorry your car broke down and you have to walk.”
I’m at the mall now, sitting in the cool air conditioning. It’s early, but it’s already getting very warm outside. The walk over here was interesting. Everything was beautifully landscaped with wide sidewalks, that is until you get to the mall turn in. The sidewalk ends abruptly, and the landscaping starts thinning out, looking much less manicured. The shade trees are set back from the driveway, designed to be viewed from a vehicle, not provide shade for pedestrians. Then there’s the sign posted as you drive in with print so small, even while walking, I had to stop to read it. There’s no way anyone in a car would be able to read more than 2 words of it. It’s the rules of the mall sign, telling you all of the things you can’t do here. No soliciting, no loitering, no overnight parking, no blah, blah, blah and shopping only.
I walked by a few mall cops too. It’s really hard to take them seriously after seeing the movie Mall Cop. I walked by a major department store, and if you saw this building without the sign, you might guess they just had a major security breach and they’re in lock-down. They must really like their stuff.
Right inside the mall doors are water vending machines. They do have drinking fountains somewhere in here, right? I like free water. Most suburbanites are water snobs and need their water in disposable plastic bottles with fancy labels. I drink tap water, even when I’m not pretending to be homeless. I attribute my ability to drink water in Mexico without getting sick to the immunities I’ve build up drinking tap water.
If they really don’t want you hanging out in the mall, what’s with the living room area? Four sofas, lots of chairs and coffee tables. Shop til you drop, here? We want you to feel comfortable, but not too comfortable? I don’t get it. I think I’ll walk around now. Nothing is open yet, as it’s before 9 a.m.
I think we all need a reason to exist. Whether it’s a simple or complex reason, we all need one. What else is there?
Acting like I’m homeless seems wrong and fake. I know I’ve said this before, but it needs to be said again. I don’t like this. I didn’t expect to feel this way. I do think it’s good in the sense that it’s giving me knowledge on what questions to ask, what to research and more details on some of the struggles. On the other hand, it feels insincere and insulting to real homeless people. I also feel dishonest asking for help and taking advantage of the systems that are in place to help people. How many people are homeless in suburbia? How would we ever know?
The only thing I want cash for is a hot cup of coffee. If I had enough cash, I would have one every morning. Is this what the cigarette thing is like? Why do we judge someone’s pleasure? I think cigarettes are a poverty pleasure, while a middle class pleasure might be a beer or mixed drink. For wealthy people, it might be a $200 bottle of wine. Who are we to judge? I have judged the cigarette thing before. I denied my friend a pack when she asked for money to buy them. I asked, “Why do you spend money on those?” I’ve heard it’s hard to quit, and I was expecting that as an answer, but instead she said this. “They aren’t good, and they are expensive, but they calm me down. They give me something to do and they decrease my appetite.” Hmm, I had never thought about those things before. I would never in a million years start smoking, but I will be less judgmental of those who do.
I just can’t imagine any of this from a real homeless perspective. Every minor choice you would have to make is magnified 100 times over, and in most cases, will determine the trajectory of your situation. Mine has an end date. I will never get this.
I don’t have answers to the question I asked in the beginning of this post, but I do know this. If you have an opportunity to do something to help a homeless person, take it. Don’t be judgmental, as it could be you some day. Our economy is not getting any better.