By Ryan Middleton
A few years ago when I was staying at the Austin Resource Center for the Homeless (ARCH) a homeless shelter in Austin, Texas, I was interviewed by KUT radio of the University of Texas (Hook 'em Horns!). I was asked questions concerning homeless voters registration. When asked why I thought the homeless don’t register to vote, I answered that it is probably because they feel repressed and persecuted by the general public and therefore don’t feel a part of the public. I should have said that, if they were given a meal and a bed for the night, they might vote. Issues outside of their immediate sphere of meager living mean nothing to them. Talk of lower healthcare costs means nothing when they have nothing to spend. Talk of higher wages means nothing when they have no job. Talk of peace means nothing when friends and family die violently. Talk of a drug war means nothing when it’s easier to sell drugs than get a job. Talk of better healthcare and other services means nothing when everything is a long, slow waiting line.
Who cares who runs for president? Where’s my SSI check? Where’s my next paycheck coming from? When can I throw off this ragged backpack and these smelly tennis shoes and turn the key to my new home?
I was asked by KUT if my views represented most homeless people. I had to pause on that question. Since I had only been homeless for two weeks, I wasn’t sure how my views compared to most homeless people. The homeless demographic spans a broad spectrum of people from different walks of life, each with different issues. There are variations of physical, social, emotional, mental and spiritual acumens. Granted, these exist among the general populace; but, due to the close, daily interactions and communal-type housing (or lack thereof), these differences are not only more noticeable, they are more pronounced. Similar conditions exist in nursing homes, jails and prisons.
Day-long close contact in large groups tends to bring out the extremes of human nature. Humans are social animals, but technology has caused us to live in isolation most of our lives. To suddenly be thrust together into the most meager and humiliating circumstances brings resistance, disgust, anger and violence in some but humility, patience, subservience and sometimes godliness in others. For some, it is an Epiphany; for all, it is a paradigm shift.
We were once on the outside looking in, but now we find ourselves the objects of others observations or derisions. "Get a job" we are told by some. Others glance away, embarrassed or disgusted for being in the proximity of a lower life form who "hath not where to lay his head." Some show pity. A few actually smile with compassion and understanding. Some of them know they are only a paycheck away from homelessness. Some, like Red Skelton, have been on the bottom and risen to the top.
There is no shame in homelessness, unless one gives up. Homelessness is only one of the bottom rungs of a ladder of success and happiness. The shame is in not stepping up to the next rung. It is a sad state of being to be dead while yet alive. Moving up the success ladder brings one alive, gives one purpose. Moving into one’s very own domicile restores humanity and dignity.
It is a great feeling to be a functioning member of society. Oh, that everyone can see our success stories, the struggle from the streets of asphalt to the streets of gold! Not everyone’s story makes Movie of the Week, but at least we know it in our hearts. We can lift our fists in triumph, and voices in praise at that grand and glorious day when an open door, brightly lit from within, bids
"Welcome Home!"
A few years ago when I was staying at the Austin Resource Center for the Homeless (ARCH) a homeless shelter in Austin, Texas, I was interviewed by KUT radio of the University of Texas (Hook 'em Horns!). I was asked questions concerning homeless voters registration. When asked why I thought the homeless don’t register to vote, I answered that it is probably because they feel repressed and persecuted by the general public and therefore don’t feel a part of the public. I should have said that, if they were given a meal and a bed for the night, they might vote. Issues outside of their immediate sphere of meager living mean nothing to them. Talk of lower healthcare costs means nothing when they have nothing to spend. Talk of higher wages means nothing when they have no job. Talk of peace means nothing when friends and family die violently. Talk of a drug war means nothing when it’s easier to sell drugs than get a job. Talk of better healthcare and other services means nothing when everything is a long, slow waiting line.
Who cares who runs for president? Where’s my SSI check? Where’s my next paycheck coming from? When can I throw off this ragged backpack and these smelly tennis shoes and turn the key to my new home?
I was asked by KUT if my views represented most homeless people. I had to pause on that question. Since I had only been homeless for two weeks, I wasn’t sure how my views compared to most homeless people. The homeless demographic spans a broad spectrum of people from different walks of life, each with different issues. There are variations of physical, social, emotional, mental and spiritual acumens. Granted, these exist among the general populace; but, due to the close, daily interactions and communal-type housing (or lack thereof), these differences are not only more noticeable, they are more pronounced. Similar conditions exist in nursing homes, jails and prisons.
Day-long close contact in large groups tends to bring out the extremes of human nature. Humans are social animals, but technology has caused us to live in isolation most of our lives. To suddenly be thrust together into the most meager and humiliating circumstances brings resistance, disgust, anger and violence in some but humility, patience, subservience and sometimes godliness in others. For some, it is an Epiphany; for all, it is a paradigm shift.
We were once on the outside looking in, but now we find ourselves the objects of others observations or derisions. "Get a job" we are told by some. Others glance away, embarrassed or disgusted for being in the proximity of a lower life form who "hath not where to lay his head." Some show pity. A few actually smile with compassion and understanding. Some of them know they are only a paycheck away from homelessness. Some, like Red Skelton, have been on the bottom and risen to the top.
There is no shame in homelessness, unless one gives up. Homelessness is only one of the bottom rungs of a ladder of success and happiness. The shame is in not stepping up to the next rung. It is a sad state of being to be dead while yet alive. Moving up the success ladder brings one alive, gives one purpose. Moving into one’s very own domicile restores humanity and dignity.
It is a great feeling to be a functioning member of society. Oh, that everyone can see our success stories, the struggle from the streets of asphalt to the streets of gold! Not everyone’s story makes Movie of the Week, but at least we know it in our hearts. We can lift our fists in triumph, and voices in praise at that grand and glorious day when an open door, brightly lit from within, bids
"Welcome Home!"
