In the summer of 2012, my fiancé
and I took a trip to San Francisco, CA.
For those of you who have not had the pleasure of visiting, San Francisco
is a beautiful place. When most people
hear the name, a slanted view of stunning row houses and the Golden Gate Bridge
come to mind. However, what most people don’t think of is the homeless
population, which is an ever-growing problem in San Fran, just as it is in New
York and other major cities.
During our trip, my fiancé and I
stayed in a fairly affordable hotel that used to be a hostel. For one full week we lived like kings in one simple
well-lit room that came complete with a small closet, small bathroom and cable
TV. While inside this cozy room with all
the comforts of home it was easy to forget how cold it could get sometimes at
night, despite the fact that it was July.
At night, we kept our windows
closed, but during the day, we let in fresh air. From the windows, we had a generous street
view of The Tenderloin district, also nicknamed “Little Saigon” due to its
large Vietnamese population. You could
almost taste the smell of the exotic food wafting through the air from
neighborhood restaurants. Dining in and
taking out were both excellent options, and my fiancé and I did both while we
stayed there. Since we don’t go to
restaurants too often this was a treat for us. After all we were on vacation
and we wanted to have a special experience and get all we could out of our
stay.
It was our first time in
California. To walk around San Francisco
and take in the sights was like a dream. During the day cool air breezed in off
the bay. At night it was surprisingly cold.
Walking to dinner that first night we passed what looked like a
makeshift shack that somebody had created out of cardboard boxes. At first I didn’t pay it too much thought; I’d
seen the same exact thing in New York City.
However, I didn’t realize how bad the homeless situation was in San
Francisco until I saw the group living across the street from the hotel.
There were at least four men. There
was also a woman who was in particularly bad shape. She shook a lot and I
wondered if it was from withdrawals or something medical, like Parkinson’s. They sat in a group on the sidewalk. I don’t
know if they expected handouts, but not a single person looked their way as
they passed by. They had few if no
belongings, but they were still human beings. They took care of each other. The
young woman and a young man cuddled together in the dark. Once, two men covered
the young woman with a piece of cardboard to try to keep her warm. She was too
out of it to thank them. It saddened me
to see that they had to live that way, but at the same time it filled me with a
strange kind of warmth to see them caring for each other in the only way they
could or knew how to. It really made me
grateful and thankful for what I have.
I watched them from the hotel room
window for a few days before I decided to take some action. I couldn’t sit by
and not do anything. My fiancé was at a conference or I would have had him come
with me, and he didn’t know what I was about to do. There was a little food store just around the
corner from the hotel room, and I went over to buy some apples. I bought at
least five apples, taking extra care to get ones that didn’t have any
bruises. I wanted apples with
shine. I got the apples and went back
into the hotel room, where I filled three cups of water from the lobby. Somehow, like an expert waitress, I managed
to transport the full bag of apples and three cups of water across the street
without spilling.
So, at this point you might think
me mad. These were complete strangers to me.
Yes, I was fully risking my life by doing this, but I was just plain
downright sick and tired of people treating them like dogs. Determined, I walked right up to a man whose
clothes were torn and tattered. He sat slumped against the wall, head nearly in
his lap, half asleep, half awake, staring basically out into dead space. I walked up to him and said “Hi. I have
something for you,” and I held out an apple and a cup of water. He looked up at
me dazed. When he saw what I had his expression changed and he was staring at
me like I was crazy. “Are you from the church?” he asked me, and I was
surprised to find he was more alert than I thought. I hesitated; I was embarrassed. “No,” I said,
“I just wanted to do this myself.”
“You mean you’re not from the
ministry?”
“No,” I said, laughing, “I’m from
across the street.”
He didn’t know what to say then and
neither did I. So I just said, “God bless you,” and walked over to the next
person. I gave them an apple and water. The female was there with her friends
and they each took one, and said “thank you”.
Soon I would have to get two more cups.
One guy I could tell was wary of my
actions. He was afraid of the water. “Are you sure it doesn’t have germs in it?”
he asked me, eyes wide, a deer in the headlights.
“No,” I said reassuringly. “It’s
fine.”
He accepted it but put it aside. I
wondered if he would drink it and secretly wondered if he had ever been
diagnosed with anything. I don’t like to label people but it seemed like
schizophrenia to me. Sadly, so many people who are homeless go undiagnosed
because they don’t have the means to see a doctor. They can’t get the
medication they need to be healthy. I
wished that there was more that I could do. Instead, I could only say “God
bless you” and “I hope things get better for you,” and walk back across the
street to where I was safe.
Safety: it’s a funny thing. I bet
most people walk past the homeless and feel afraid. (Will they try attack me?
Try to steal my things?) I bet that from the homeless’ point of view, they’re
probably afraid of us. (Will they call the police on me? Spit on me? Take me to
a shelter where they’ll just ignore me? Try to take what little left of my
sanity I have away from me?)
Enough. I’m sick of fear. It’s time to face up to the fear, America. It’s
time to do the right thing and have the courage to be kind.
Important Links:
Give US Your Poor Blog : "The Campaign to End Homelessness"
St. Martin de Porres, the "Free Restaurant" of San Francisco (The picture above is of the Dalai Lama serving food to hoemeless at St. Martin de Porres.
