Whose problem is it?
Walking through the center of downtown Austin, Texas, one can’t help but notice the putrid smell of piss that flows through the cracks of the sidewalk, the leather-skinned grown child that picks through the trash bins when he’s not walking in circles or the nooks in the alleyways that provide the perfect amount of room to assume the fetal position on the concrete, that is until someone more comfortable spots them and shoves them along. God forbid these dirty human beings rest in a place where the hustle of downtown is slightly muted and where the eyes of people who have a place to be can’t stare.
I’ve heard extreme opinions on how one should acknowledge or not acknowledge this epidemic but mostly, I’ve realized that most people would rather not think about it. “He must be on drugs.” “Why would I give him anything? So he can buy more booze?” “Did you see that lady talking to herself?”
Some of the sights I see on a daily basis are indeed laughable but only because I laugh in uncomfortable situations, like when someone else is crying and I don’t know what to do. Nevertheless, as my smile begins to retreat, I can’t help but think about the fact that this person, this human being, this poor soul that we treat as a spectacle - he was once a child. He was once a newborn baby, bringing tears of joy to his mother’s eyes as she held him for the first time. He was once a curious student, taking things apart and trying to put them back together. He was probably in love once, he probably had dreams, he probably had a family that once cared for him, he might have had a great sense of humor and he very well could have been more intelligent than his peers. Every single one of these spectacles has a story, just like the ones who have somewhere to be, and most likely, they never thought part of their story would include sifting through other people’s garbage in downtown Austin. Something unfortunate happened to these people and now they have been forgotten, by our society and by our government.
I want to encourage others to think differently about these people, these human beings, next time you stare or laugh or disturb them while they’re only sleeping. Remind yourself: this is not the dream these people had for themselves as a child. None of them really want to be homeless, helpless, lost, addicted or hungry.
I’m so very tired of hearing comments like “well he should get a job” or “he got himself here.” It is outrageously difficult in this country to bounce back from hitting rock bottom. No one thinks about how complicated it is to obtain a state ID card without a social security card or a birth certificate or an address. All of those things can’t be obtained without the other in most cases and all of these things require money and a ride. No ID or social security card? No job. No checking yourself into a hospital. No seeking mental health treatment.
When all you can focus on is how you’re going to get your next source of food or where you’re going to lay your head when the sun goes down, it is almost impossible to make any progress without some sort of assistance.
Next time you think that these human beings are making a conscious choice to be homeless, just shoot them a smile and imagine what it feels like to have no one that cares enough about you to hold out their hand, pick you up off of the ground and simply help you be alive. That must be the most empty feeling in the entire world. And honestly, I’d be getting fucked up all day, too. How else would you deal with the stares and laughter?
Whose problem is it? It’s everyone’s.
