In 2009 I went travelling with friends to California. We started our ‘road trip’ in San Francisco, a city that two of my friends declared their favourite in the entire world. Yet, when I arrived I didn’t take to it. I couldn’t quite get over the amount of homelessness there was in the city. The homeless seemed to fill the streets and the parks, especially at night. What made it worse was their politeness when they asked for anything,
“Do you have any money Ma’am?” they would ask.
I felt terrible every time I said no… but there were just so many people!
One woman stopped me at the lights before crossing the road to our hotel.
One woman stopped me at the lights before crossing the road to our hotel.
“Do you have any spare change Ma’am? She asked me.
“No. I’m sorry... but no.”
It was the end of the street, and I had already given out the change I believed I could spare. Anyway, I was on a tight budget! If I gave her my money, maybe I'd be joining her on her street corner! To add to it, I was a coffee addict and what money I had in my pocket was going to prevent that dull ache in my head from becoming a thumping headache.
That woman on the corner was an African American woman… possibly in her 50’s and she was rugged up in layers of clothing (possibly all the items of clothing that she owned). She smiled at me politely as I answered her. Then she looked at me…
“You need to turn down your shirt collar,” she said assisting me to adjust it. “I say this because I am a lady and these things are important.”
“Oh… thank you!” I said, taken aback.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, appearing to hold no grudge.
She smoothed down my collar and resumed her stance at the street corner regarding each face as it passed her in hope that one would offer her help.
She smoothed down my collar and resumed her stance at the street corner regarding each face as it passed her in hope that one would offer her help.
I could not get this moment out of her mind. When I have considered homelessness in the past, I have associated it with a vice - alcohol or drug addiction… I never considered the human struggle. Perhaps she lost a job or fled a traumatic situation... Whatever happened, she took her magnificence with her... all of her beauty, etiquette, and consideration.
Years later I would grow to understand how advanced of spirit such a person is. It takes great strength of character to suffer and not lose yourself completely. I think that Elisabeth Kubler-Ross said it best when she wrote the following words:
“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”
Now, I can never pass such a person on the street and not see their struggle. It is always worth my attention and consideration. "Beautiful people do not just happen. " They stand up when everyone else believes that they are at the end of their line and shine through the drudge, the turmoil. and fear.
Although I believe that I have struggled, I have not known poverty, inescapable cold, or hunger. All I have really known is depression... an inner belief that I know what suffering is. If this woman that I met on the streets of San Francisco could see into my mind, she would possibly smile and pity me. My struggle is with myself... but I don't feel beautiful. I didn't feel beautiful that day on the street, startled by my misconceptions, forced to acknowledge my biases, and clutching at my coffee money.
I now often think about all of those reasons why people won't give to the homeless:
"They will just go and spend the money on drugs or alcohol! They should just go and get a job like everyone else rather than ask for handouts!"
This just makes me think about all the privileged people who partake in these activities. I know many people who shake off the tension of their day with a drink or turn to drugs to escape and none of these people endure extreme cold, lack of shelter, or lack of food. I also know what it is like to suffer the indignity of losing a job. Sometimes the feeling of failure and diminished confidence becomes a serious blow to the human psyche and getting back up isn't as simple as it may appear. The reason for why we are where we are takes some of us a great deal of soul-searching. For a selected (perhaps stronger) few, it takes a longer, deeper suffering to learn who we really are.
On this day, on that corner in San Francisco, I believe I truly saw into a stranger. When I truly regarded her, I could not dismiss her. I turned back and gave her my coffee money. My headache came later, but my ailment seemed mild in comparison. I wonder often if this woman survived this time in her life if she 'found her way out of the depths.' I hope she did. I know that whatever came out of this would have been beautiful.
I now often think about all of those reasons why people won't give to the homeless:
"They will just go and spend the money on drugs or alcohol! They should just go and get a job like everyone else rather than ask for handouts!"
This just makes me think about all the privileged people who partake in these activities. I know many people who shake off the tension of their day with a drink or turn to drugs to escape and none of these people endure extreme cold, lack of shelter, or lack of food. I also know what it is like to suffer the indignity of losing a job. Sometimes the feeling of failure and diminished confidence becomes a serious blow to the human psyche and getting back up isn't as simple as it may appear. The reason for why we are where we are takes some of us a great deal of soul-searching. For a selected (perhaps stronger) few, it takes a longer, deeper suffering to learn who we really are.
On this day, on that corner in San Francisco, I believe I truly saw into a stranger. When I truly regarded her, I could not dismiss her. I turned back and gave her my coffee money. My headache came later, but my ailment seemed mild in comparison. I wonder often if this woman survived this time in her life if she 'found her way out of the depths.' I hope she did. I know that whatever came out of this would have been beautiful.
