Cold Hearts are Colder Than the Streets (a Reflection on the Apathy of People Regarding Homelessness)
Tags: World, Homelessness, Life Lessons, Homeless, Life

One morning, on my way to work, I saw a man passed out-or deeply sleeping-on the sidewalk. I had purchased water right before seeing him and I also had a Larabar in my purse. I placed these things next to him, gently, hoped that when he awoke he’d drink the water. “Please drink the water,” I prayed under my breath.

I’m often feeling responsible for helping others, especially those more vulnerable than me. It’s a responsibility that the less privileged take up with empathy. If those more empowered to help others took a role in the efforts to positively impact lives, maybe the vulnerable could rise up out of the confines of destitution.

That afternoon there was a birthday party and I felt out of place because I’m a new hire (well, actually, I’m an intern but I was offered an official position at a later date). I was enjoying the meal and company regardless, but I admit that for me I easily feel like an outcast around completely new faces. The overt jolly of it all quickly dissipated when a couple of the employees mocked homeless people.

One of them recalled their Halloween, how her young son wanted to walk around and give candies to homeless people. The conversation switched to the topic of the random and sudden desire of children to run, particularly her own, to which another employee joked her children were running to get away from the homeless.

It wasn’t the first time I had a “Twilight Zone sensation.”

This joke revealed a disgust of the homeless; its weak punchline revealed she’s not even funny. I didn’t laugh, but the other employees I sat with did.

Am I surrounded by a bunch of ignoramuses? It was a thought I often had in high school, but I’m an adult in a professional role now. I’d hoped not. Surely, such a thing as mocking the homeless couldn’t be happening in a place like the one I worked, a place dedicated to supporting the economic development of the predominantly marginalized community-a neighborhood my coworkers so-called served. I initially found my future coworkers likable, so I tried to shake the thought off. The damage was done, though. I felt rather uncomfortable and left shortly after.

Making fun of the homeless is making a mockery of the numerous issues that surround it. It’s downplaying the onset of a potential future in which homelessness could become the new norm. We are all indirectly responsible for causing homelessness and thereby are responsible to fix and further prevent it, which is why homelessness is not a joke.

On my way to catch the bus, I saw the man who was sleeping in the streets wasn’t there anymore nor the bottle of water and Larabar. It lightened my downtrodden mood, the possible confirmation that he was able to nourish himself.

I wondered if there was someone outside of work to talk to. I realized there’s no one I knew who seemed to care about the homeless. If they cared it was a shallow type of concern, not a deep critically-analytical kind motivated to change the status quo. No one I knew personally seemed to care in the way I needed them to about how the homeless are treated.

People gain comfort and forget about others who’ve yet to have an inkling of it. It’s one huge flaw of humanity at large; the systems of oppression that have left disadvantaged populations poverty-stricken are recreated in our mundane words, choices, actions. However, the associated mentality that allows destitution to continue and multiply is insidious in its way of making homelessness seem unimportant.

I was (and am) frustrated by this reality. I broke down and cried. I can’t feign ignorance, prioritize superficial gain, and just smile through it all. Like that scene in Hotel Rwanda, which is based on true events (in case you didn’t know, which I hope you do know), Don Cheadle breaks down crying in the hotel he’s trying to keep functioning in the face of complete chaos; you can’t always resort to smiling when you want to cry. I had felt unsupported in my own financial situations for a majority of my life: I know what being alone and pressed from all directions feels like.

Emotional support, something beyond monetary gifts, motivates people facing difficulties to continue and get out of a spiral of despair. The simple act of listening and showing care (I.e. by offering what you know), establishes a baseline of trust required to provide materially. In order to truly give to someone, you first have to care about them. And if you don’t give, well… I suppose you’re a cold-hearted person.