When one is making a point through activism, there are many people affected. I can understand frustration regarding being late to work. I can understand frustration that these people daring to make a point about something that really matters to them messes up your precious schedule. What I do not understand, however, is this cold mentality people have toward others when it comes to anyone but themselves. What am I talking about?
Homelessness. When you see someone on the street corner with a sign, no hope in their eyes, dirty, depressed and unkempt is your first thought "Ugh, oh God, not another one?" or "Don't look, they'll ask for money"? The attitude I get from people on this subject is a general attitude of disgust and refusal to acknowledge the problem, instead pointing at the person and claiming that they are the problem. "Get a job, you filthy bum!"
I've been homeless. I was legally homeless for a good portion of my childhood. I was shifted back and forth between my parents in custody battles and when my dad was in jail for a stupid mistake. I remember staying on his girlfriend's couch when I was young. I remember staying with my step grandmother for two weeks while my mom was in Ireland because my dad was in jail for something (I think drunk driving, idk, I was young). I remember being 10 or 11 and having my mother pack my crap into a garbage bag and send me to my father's house on the bus because "she couldn't deal with me anymore". My parents did their best, and I love them both. But, I never felt like I had a home. I felt alone, lost, adrift, confused, and upset in general. Kids picked on me because when I lived with my father I smelled like smoke, so I didn't even feel comfortable in school. I lived in a motel, so all kinds of rumors abounded about me being a drug addict or some nonsense. Kids suck, I don't blame them.
My driving ambition by the time I was close to graduation was just to get out, get away, get as far away as I could. When I finally graduated (which was by the skin of my teeth, a long story.. I'm not stupid, I was very lazy, angry, and had a lot of misplaced frustration.) I moved in with my aunt and uncle in california. I stayed there for almost a year, then moved to Portland, and fell in love. I was a dreamer. Didn't really see much wrong with it. I met a few homeless while I was there, one was a vet, one was drunk at the streetcar stop. I had some good conversations with them, because they were interesting, and I was curious.
Long story short, I moved south to Wilsonville and got a job. I was at a very bad place mentally, and working for Boost Mobile didn't really help. I also had bad choices of friends, again due to my naivete. So, due to my stress levels and lack of ability/knowledge of how to deal with it, I had something happen and quit my job (I saw white at work and felt stabbing pains in my abdomen. I asked to be able to go home early to go to the doctor and they told me to get back to work and ignored me. I was crying on the phone, and a customer asked me how I was. That still makes me sick..) due to a poor decision on my part. I just couldn't take it anymore.
Because I lost my job and US Bank screwed me over, I was going to become homeless, so I moved across the country in with a "friend" of mine who ended up being crazy. That led to another move, which also failed and brought me back to NY. I managed to get two jobs, and "saved" a couple of friends. I was in a bit of a better place psychologically, but took too much on at once, and barely made it working them for a year. I lost everything again and moved here.
Portland, Oregon. There are a lot of homeless people here, which is a whole different world than where I grew up. My first night a drug addict showed me where to sleep- I didn't know he was an addict til I woke up at 1 am to him shooting up with assorted pill bottles and needles scattered over his lap. I pretended I was still asleep, heart pounding, and left at 5 am due to nightmares. My second night I was raped, due to a poor choice on my part (I didn't realize how strong Four Loko's are. Dear god, never again.) I was lucky in that he wasn't violent with me and brought me back to a max station and pointed out which way was downtown. That's an odd story, too.
BUT the next day I met Jason. I complimented his outfit, he complimented my pinstripe fedora. I never thought I'd meet him again. A girl brought me to the youth shelter that night and I saw him again, and we have been inseperable friends ever since.
I was lucky, in that I am 23(almost 24!). I was 22 at the time and was able to stay at the youth shelter and get youth services. I've also seen the other side of that coin, when they decided they couldn't help me anymore. There are a lot more homeless than you see on the street. The homeless go to internet cafe's, Powells, the Library, all kinds of stuff. There aren't enough shelters. The family shelters are all closed except for one now, I think.
I've slept outside on concrete, multiple times. I've slept in a storefront, I've slept under a bridge. I'm not a high school dropout. I graduated with a C average, but I got a Regents diploma. I type 90 wpm. I've read more books than most people my age, and several older. I am by no means stupid. I'm not lazy. I never sat with a sign asking for money, though we did once make one that was interactive (Sharpies, and asked passersby if they wanted to add art or something to it.)
So, tell me.. Why is it so easy to blame the homeless for their problems?? Making a mistake happens. We are human. It's how we grow. But how does it work that making a mistake makes you a failure, and it's your fault that you can't get up on your own?? There are not enough services. It's not right, and it's not fair. "But nothing's fair, so that's okay", right?
There's something wrong, here. When we are so unempathetic we just don't care about children being forced to walk around in the cold because there aren't enough day programs open in December for all the families.
There is something wrong when people say "Oh, they should have done x" when peaceful protesters are beaten by the police.
The Right to Free Speech is not what speech you WANT them to say. It is not YOUR opinion alone that is allowed to be said. People doing nothing wrong do not deserve to get dragged off their bicycles, punched in the face, kicked, hit, etc because their march is unpermitted. That is free speech. Martin Luther King didn't ask for permission to make his points. Asking permission to be allowed to make a point MEANS YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO MAKE THE POINT.
Don't blame the victims for their victimization. I am not talking about protesters who hit cops first, or spit at them, etc. I am talking about people just like you.
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