WE ARE THE HOMELESS PEOPLE

It has been a simple truth for me, the realization that even I, the secure, take all I own for granted, wanting more people can end up with nothing. The push of debt, struggling from pay check to pay check, cutting back in times of hardship. The truth lies in front of us: we are the homeless people, the ones living in poverty, the ones that search for the next meal, and in an instant of circumstances, we are the homeless. People no different than ourselves, families no different than our own. The faces that we turn ours from are the reflections of the reminder that we could be there too.

HANK IS EVERYWHERE

 

Homeless HANK is a character that represents...

A single mother making min wage who loses the struggle to afford rent, childcare, transportation, and food

A family whose father suffers a debilitating illness and is unable to work

A man who has a mental illness without the resources for treatment

A child who ages out of the foster care system at the age of 18

A family with children living paycheck to paycheck when someone was laid off

A young man caught in a web of drug and alcohol addictions

A woman escaping an abusive relationship with nothing but the clothes on her back

A man who, because he is homeless without an address, phone number, clean clothes, a place to shower, and food, can’t secure gainful employment despite having needed skills

An elderly couple living on a fixed income facing rising rents, insurance, and medication costs

A family living in their car because the apartment they struggled to afford was converted to condos; the parents are terrified they will lose their children

H-Homelessness

A-Awareness

N-Needs

K- Knowledge

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HANK

 

On his birthday, he walked the same street he had for the past year. He gave himself a moment on this day, to remember, to hold the memories.to remember, to keep the memories on this day. This was his gift to himself. His birthday gift was to cherish the memory of a home, of where he came from and where he hoped to be.

WHERE TO GO??

All of a sudden, homeless, so where do you go? Some believe that homeless people only stay in big cities, but some people have no homes in every state, and every country, regardless of size. Homeless shelters are often found in bigger cities simply because the population in big cities is higher. It may not have been a palace It may not have been large It may not have been pretty It was what I called home

IF TEARS TURNED TO GOLD

If I could cry tears of gold, I would have a home.

If I could cry tears of gold, I would eat every day

If I could cry tears of gold, I would help that other guy

If I could cry tears of gold, I would not waste any of them

If I could cry tears of gold, I would share my tears

If only I could cry tears of gold

TAKING CARE

Cold, wet and hungry

Dirty, sick and thirsty

Sad, weak and thin

Homeless with no name

One voice, one hand

Two voices, Two hands

Many hearts, many souls

Homeless with a name

ACTIONS OF HOMELESSNESS

Thrown into a new world

Hurled into the hunger of many types

Cursed with poverty

Choked with tears of emptiness

Craved belonging to somewhere

Painful loneliness without hope

Pulsing fear of no change

Crushed dreams of yesterday

Crashing realization of homelessness

Rushing pain of hunger

Numbing memories fading away

Lost time and mistakes etched in stone.

Across the United States, 675,000 people are homeless on any given night.

A PERCEPTION OF LIFE

 

I could not believe that he lived in this. Not wanting to touch anything, the smell grabbed me in a chokehold. The peace I felt was out of place. You could not feel life or death; it was as if your senses went numb.

We started sorting through his belongings, things to keep and something to give away and throw in the trash. Wanted it to go quickly but yet not want to leave. This is where he lived, a small room with a small bathroom, little fridge, table, chair, and bed with dresser. Covered in things he had gathered, most of it stuff you use daily, not much collected from the past, no photo frames or trinkets. The walls were dirty, well everything seemed dirty. This is where his life ended.

Time had stopped for him, his grown children cleaning up the mess, sorting his stuff. They had not seen him in years; all they knew was he was in the city trying to get by.

Three children, now with children of their own, taking care of their father’s life now that it is gone.

This is poverty, down and out, he had shelter, friends, and a job, but no one should live like that.