It Will Never Be Me

I have had a story on my mind since Sunday. The story was not something you hear about everyday in our newspaper. Even though it happens everyday in our country. Someone. A family. A few families in fact. Have become homeless. Or are close to being homeless. Sunday, as I sat listening to the visiting pastor give his sermon, it caused me to reflect. I could identify with what he was saying. Because, I was once that person in his story.

When I walked into the church that morning once again, it causes me to go back to a time when things were not so good for myself. And, without knowing the kindness of people I had absolutely no hope. It was in the distance for me on any given day. The main thought in my mind after listening to his sermon that day has been the main part of my life ever since the days my son and I experienced homelessness. "Hope lives here." 

Recently, I have come out of my shell thanks to a gentle, but, firm nudging from God, and frequented downtown Clearwater a lot more than I had in the past two years since we got our home. City Council meetings have brought me back. The people I know on the streets brought me back. Articles in the newspaper brought me back. Exposure in the media about my family's story brought me back to where it all started.

A few times a week now I go downtown and just sit. Somewhere.

Monday, I sat downtown on the steps of Peace Memorial. I had gone downtown to return the last library book I will check out from the library. Reading will keep me away from the one place that I felt safe. The one place my son and I spent many hours visiting. The many hours we spent on our laptops doing school work and looking for a job. Or, just to go and sit quietly. And, reflect as the world was in motion outside the big glass windows. As I was driving away from the library, I spotted a familiar face. Sitting on the steps of the church across from .

I immediately pulled into the lot. Parked. And, walked up to him. We instantly recognized each other. Without question. He was one of the first people that took my son and I under his wing. To protect us from the evils of the street. He gave us a cup of coffee. He gave us understanding. He gave us a little bit of hope everytime we encountered him.

He in fact is homeless. By his own choosing of course. He's never been without a dollar in his pocket either. He's homeless, but, saves his money. He survives going from place to place using the bare minimum that he can. He's not rich by any means either. He just doesn't get enough to rent. To change the situation of which he's in. Because he can't. 

I sat down on the steps with him. He jokingly says, "you're not afraid to get in trouble for sitting down with me on the public sidewalk?"

I reply "Heavens NO. Let them harass me right in front of a church."

We talked for awhile about all . He doesn't own a computer. Wouldn't know how to operate a computer. He doesn't watch TV because of his situation obviously. He does read the newspaper of course. He and I used to sit in the library and talk. For hours. Here we are. A few blocks away from the first place we met. Three years later.

The situation for my family obviously changed. I asked him how he was doing. His reply was "I'm alright I guess. I'm only counting down birthdays at this point now." 

That sounded so sad coming from a man whom, when you meet him always greets you with a hearty hello and a smile. It was so sad to hear him speak about his life in a manner of simply counting down the days. Like it was so final for him and his situation. Having something. But, not enough to have a home. He's up there in years. So, a job wouldn't be in his best interests. Safe Harbor is not a place you'll ever see this man at. He's not like those out there. No vices. No extreme demons to fight against. He doesn't fit the mold that the community has a portrayal of recently. But, then again? Neither do my son and I.

The first essential tool of survival on the streets he tought us? Blend in with your surroundings. Adapt and adjust. Being homeless does not mean you're dumb. Or uneducated. Or incapable of including yourself with the community around you of which you live in. Whether you be on foot. On a bike. Or own a car. Being homeless changes nothing but the fact that you do not have a "home." Whether you be in a motel. Living with your family. Or friends. Or in your car. In a shelter or on the streets somewhere.

You're simply "residentially challenged." It in no way changes who you are. If anything, if you survive it, it should define you. Make you stronger. Teach you what hope looks like. What hope feels like.

For me on that day? Sitting with him felt like hope. All over again. A lady and her husband drove up and stopped. She asked us if we were hungry as she took two sack lunches out of her vehicle to give to us. I declined naturally. But, my friend took that simple bag of food. She gave him little bottles of lotion and shampoo while she was there. Hope comes in the smallest of forms. Random acts of kindness. He wouldn't be the only one recieving small tokens of hope that day either. I'm sure of it. She left after that. On her way to give someone else a little bit of hope. He and I continued our conversation.

Since the city has put new ordinances targeting the homeless, in place it has changed our perception of where we live now. Even sitting across the street from City Hall in the city I have loved so much that I stayed even when we got a home it just felt so different. My perception has changed. Knowing that they will be a prison like fence around the library changed my perception so much that I can no longer set foot inside. Not without thinking about all the other of my homeless friends also feeling the same way as they step inside the seven foot gates. Like a target. Like I've been stripped of my dignity. Like my freedom to come and go has been violated. Like I'm being watched and judged because of my appearance.

I was once homeless. But, I never looked the "image" that the City has portrayed recently as a result of all these heartless ordinances. 

My friend and I sat across from City Hall. He had asked me how I planned on changing these new perceptions of the homeless? By this time he knew that I was planning on running for City Council Seat One. Mayor. And, my answer to him was? By bringing the faces of the homeless up to the surface for people in our community who are literally afraid of what it looks like. So afraid of it? That they refuse to notice our homeless population. So afraid of it, that they do not understand why those of us helping the homeless do what we do everyday. Why do we hang out with these people? Why do we stay close to them? Why do we talk to them? Why do we share our lives with them? How is it that we treat each other like family? Why do we carry on the friendships we've developed with each other?

Because until one has walked in those shoes that we have it appears ugly to the rest of society. People without a face. People without stories. People with no identity's, except the only one society has given them. People without hope. Depending on those around them. Every day. To give them just the smallest taste of hope. To hear it. To feel it.

My own community has not been so kind lately in the capacity of being city leaders toward the homeless and less fortunate of our community. Restricting their ability to experience hope. Dictating how they can achieve hope according to their perception of how that gets accomplished. Words on a piece of paper. Words law enforcement, are being trained to learn how to handle. Words to discourage the community from giving any type of hope, in any form or manner? To anyone that "appears" to be homeless. Even though the perception of the community is that of the old scraggly clothed drunk with a push cart full of belongings.

And, here I was.

Sitting on the steps of a church with this gentleman. Anyone driving by would probably assume automatically, that we were "homeless."

No one paying attention to either of us sitting there. Talking to each other. Laughing and smiling at everyone walking by. No one caring what our situation was. Or who we were. No one caring about our stories. Coming and going in a day's time. Going to their jobs. To their homes. Sleeping in their comfortable beds. Eating meals they didn't have to beg for. Or hope that they could enjoy. Having shelter from the weather. Having clothes for every day of the week. Having a car. Having money. Having whatever it is that they want. Doing whatever it is they want. These ordinances don't apply to them. Just to the "homeless."

Because, it's just common sense that anyone else wouldn't be caught sitting on the sidewalk. Or laying down in the parks or on the beaches. Or enjoying the day at the beach. Or accepting food from  a stranger on the streets. That they would ever visit the library. Or use the bathrooms in the parks. They would never "lodge" outside.

Only those with "no home" would do those things.

"I'll never be homeless. So that doesn't apply to me."

"I'll never be laid off from my job and not able to find another one for three years"

"I'll never lose anything I own including my home."

"I'll never need anything."

Albeit, at this stage of life since my son and I were homeless I can assure you that I take nothing for granted anymore. I worry daily. About everything. My brain is constantly in motion. Even when I'm asleep. Even when the bills are paid. Even when there is food in the house. Even the utilities are paid. Even if my car is 12 yrs old. Even though I have shelter from the weather. Even though we live simply. We are not rich. We go from week to week pinching and saving pennies. I might even use that change to put gas in my car that week. We live very conservatively so we can afford the electric bill every month. Anything to maintain our home and our lives in said home. We, even with a home rarely go to the movies. We watch netflix. Rarely do we go out to eat. We fix food at home. The point being that we never forgot where we came from.

Because no one is exempt from winding up in that situation for the first time in their lives or again despite everything you've done to prevent it. The resources are just not there within our community if you do. The city has been spending money on resources that have absolutely nothing to do with the beneficial help with our homeless and less fortunate population of working poor. The first part of the money given to their homeless programs budget is given to a program that has nothing to do with our city at all. It is run and operated by the Sheriff's office. A county run program. The city had no problem taking $91,000 and some change in the budget for their car allowances and, putting it as a bonus to their salaries.

The city doesn't have "enough money" for our homeless programs inner city, but, from their hat of tricks? Was able to pull out close to $120,000 for a 7 foot tall wrought iron fence and gate(s) around the PUBLIC library downtown. I was present when they asked the City of Tampa for reimbursement of costs for "lending" out our city law enforcement for the RNC in Tampa this month. Reimbursement including use of equipment even? Really?

When my son and I were homeless we used to be resentful of those around us that had homes. That had food. That had vehicles. That had everything they needed.

We used to talk about what life would be like once we had all those things. We used to hope daily for our situation to change for the better. We prayed for relief. We used to be upset when the weather was bad and we had no place to go. We used to talk nightly, daily, while we were living in a shelter for a year, about all the things we would want to do once we had a home. We used to dream about the future. Now we're living the future. But, we never forgot our past. Nor where we came from to get where we are now. 

So my friend, on the steps of the church that day asked me how I planned on "fighting back" against all these newest ordinances and "laws"? 

Here is how:

Once a month I will be dowtown handing out sack lunches, bottles of water, little bottles of shampoo and things to help make that hygiene easier. As funds allow it I will increase that trip to twice monthly.

I am going to find a way to acquire sleeping bags and blankets. Winter is coming up upon us here now. Despite the sunny weather? It still gets cold. People needing these things to survive on the streets? Will be able to get a hold of me.

I am going to try to find thermos's to hold coffee in in bulk amounts. And, keep them in my car and fill them from my house. I will buy disposable cups. I will be giving a warm cup of "hope" to people when I am downtown.

I am going to have posters made protesting how these ordinances are inhibiting one's movements violating their Constitutional rights and giving them to our homeless as I encounter them in a day's time.

I am going to sit on the public steps of the church's. With my friends on the street.

I am going to bring a blanket to sit on in the park with my friends on the street. 

I have no idea just how I will be able to do all these things at the moment either. I have no idea how I will be able to afford these things since I can't seem to get help from my community towards fulfilling the needs our homeless have.

The homeless and less fortunate in our city are still invisible to the rest of the community. Because?

It will never be them. And, it's not "their" problem. 

"Spend all your time waiting for that second chance

 For the break that will make it ok

There's always some reason to feel not good enough

 And it's hard at the end of the day

I need some distraction, oh beautiful release

Memories seep from my veins

They may be empty and weightless,

and maybe I'll find some peace tonight" (Arms of an Angel)