One more reason you can add to this cartoon, of the reasons people are homeless, is under education. This has largely developed with the advent of technology. Sure, even homeless people have smart phones, but are the technologically astute?
Most under educated people were left behind with the advent of technology. In fact, they have basically been left for dead. The solution to end homelessness seems to be to let them die. I am one of them and I don't have a smart phone. I don't have a computer. At this point, I don't even have a dumb phone as I woke up one morning about a month ago to a large spider on my sleeve. Immediately, I got up, brushed the spider off and high tailed it outta there, only to realize later that my phone was no longer in my pocket. When I returned to retrieve my phone, it was gone.
Communication is one very important part of success. Without a phone, people are at a disadvantage, but a phone of any kind is not the difference between success and failure. Things like transportation are also part of the equation. Things like clothing are essential. And, above all, housing is essential for success.Without adequate housing, one is hard pressed to make any significant strides toward success. Instead, you are left to the daily shuffle, the daily grind, the daily clown parade of people spending almost a third of each twenty four hour day just trying to stay clean and fed. And, this time is spent during prime working hours since homeless resources are not available at night, except for the shelters that immediately shove you out early in the morning; rain, or shine. The system seems to think we're all just lazy, especially from the conservative bent.
If shelters offered phone banks and computer access, something positively remarkable might be said. But, they don't. They offer a place to sleep and a meal, and that's about it. Recently, one particular shelter has started a jobs program which is great, but pushing for sustainable living on wages that hardly support that vision.
As a corporate drop out, or dropped out, I'm not really sure where to go from here. In my highest earning years, I had all the things one might take for granted like housing, transportation, communication tools... But, when those things no longer exist, re-obtaining them is just about, if not flat out impossible. So, as one who had all of those things, it sets me apart from most of the homeless population that are under educated and never had a great foundation for success. I had all that. So, I have greater blame than others who are not only under educated, but of an obstreperous flock. Unruly and greedy, like vultures they pounce on food provided by either faith based organizations, or by state agencies. It becomes a recurring daily effort where the only thing anybody is really getting done is to consume enough food to keep one's pants up. Of course, these days, it seems to be fashionable to walk around with your pants down.
After a decade of hope that I would rise above these circumstances, I never imagined myself being in, my hope is nearly gone. You can begin to resign yourself to these conditions as being the state of existence for the rest of your life. Nobody is coming to rescue you. And, then there is a jobs program that offers you a place to stay and transportation, but for a trained professional, the job opportunities are limited unless you want to take up a new career and become a welder. I can't even see my toenails anymore. What kind of welder would I make?
So, I checked in to a Healthcare Access Representative program. It requires two to three semesters of education, and then once you obtain employment you can begin earning money. Besides the nursing program, this is the only other professional program offered. It is appropriate for me based upon my work history, but do I have time for this? Will it lift me out of poverty?
Looking back, it is clear, as I have already told myself and others, I squandered my opportunities and the very foundation I had set for me by my parents and by the state who afforded me affordable student loans, and grants to go to college. I graduated with a C average going to night school and working full time for most of my college experience. See, if you start bearing children while you're still a student, you have another set of responsibilities to take care of. Add to that environmental allergies and antihistamines, beer and the Bible, and a severe case of ADD , undiagnosed, and you have quite a blur you're dealing with. So, while my problem with being homeless is not education, mental illness was.
Religion will boggle your mind if you dive in deep as I did. Most people take it lightly. Not me. I dove in head first and then couldn't make sense of it all especially when compared to American culture. It has led me to the conclusion that all religious people suffer from cognitive dissonance, but live in denial about it. We say we believe things but act in a contrary manner against those beliefs. In Christianity, that is where grace comes in, but until you realize that, you will beat yourself up in guilt clouded with confusion... And, allergies, sneezes and dope that makes you sleep. If you're sleeping, rather than sneezing, when you wake up, it starts all over again. A vicious cycle that can lead a ten year old child to want to commit suicide.
Then, there are the voices, or the voice, at first. It is a still small voice I first heard at the age of eighteen. I was getting ready to go outside and wash my car. I was lying on my bed about to get up when this little voice from inside my head said, "You're going to be the president".
I argued, "No, I'm not. They'll just shoot me". It was at that time, I had already developed a distaste for corporate America because of the styrofoam boxes McDonald's used to serve their burgers in. You would see them all over the roadside. I was always taught not to litter and I still don't to this day. I learned to despise companies that just didn't seem to care about the environment. They'll just shoot me, I thought against the voice. It ceased never to be heard again until probably seven years later, when once again I was on my bed.
As I sat there on what must have been a Saturday afternoon, it came again. It said, "You're a believer in Jesus Christ". I did not argue with that. That, I embraced and that led to my reading the Bible which I had never done before. Though, I would have still called myself a Christian as I cracked open a cold beer. I don't have a problem with Christians who drink beer. But, in the South, drinking is frowned upon by what is predominantly Evangelical community of believers.
Time went by again, and I didn't hear that voice again until probably a couple of years later. That's when it got kind of scary and even confusing. I will not divulge what that voice began to say as I would drive home from work many days. It was at that point I began to ignore it, or try to brush it off. I did not like what it was saying and I didn't believe it either. That was thirty years ago. Later in life, as recently as five years ago now, I noticed there were others who had apparently received the same message. That eased my conscience, but it began to make me question the legitimacy of what that voice was telling people. It was as clear as could be. It was not my imagination. And, I cannot prove that to anyone. I take a risk now by even mentioning it, but this comes at a time when the voice and the voices have long since ceased after years of intense struggle beginning in 2004 to 2007, I adamantly told them to "shut up", which they did, but only after almost driving me to suicide again.
Thankfully, I had a guide through this time of trial. The voices expanded from my head, which I knew that's where they were coming from. They weren't external, until the radio and the TV began talking to me, and I'm not talking about how it is when you're in church and the preacher is preaching a sermon you think is intended specifically for you. I'm talking about clear, personal communication. It was so direct, I decided to test it one day after weeks of hearing one particular commercial on the radio. Without going into detail, my visit to this particular business served to confirm that I was not crazy, and that I was not going to follow the advice of this voice and it's accomplices. I left the establishment telling them I would return tomorrow, which I never intended to do, and did not. But, it eased my troubled mind where what I termed the Boo Bears had taken up residence in the attic of my mind.
More than a mental illness, this was a psycho-spiritual experience. I had always dealt with anger and depression, but I never had any wild thoughts such as the one's that seemed to be bombarding me. I'm a peace loving person and have a difficult time dealing with the obstreperous, who usually drive me to that anger that consumed me for so long.
It seems appropriate to be talking about this on Halloween. It's spooky, and it was especially spooky for me. To bring it to a head, I was working at a car dealership at the end of 2004 when the phone rang at the receptionist desk. She wasn't there. So, I picked it up and said, "Hello", but I didn't hear a response. I said, "Hello" again, and then there it was, that little voice I was already familiar with. It asked, "Who do you serve". Immediately, I was like, "Sir, this is Saturn of Decatur. We serve Saturn owners, but our technicians are able to work on pretty much any car, but I can barely hear you".
It repeated the question, "Who do you serve". At this point, I'm perplexed because I can barely hear this guy and I didn't know what else to say. Again, I said, "This is Saturn of Decatur, can you hear me". Again, it asked, "Who do you serve". Becoming frustrated, I said, "God". The voice challenged me again, "Who do you serve". I said, "God, in Jesus Christ". Then, I could hear the anger in his voice as still and small as it was, he said, "Who do you really serve". Again, I said, "God in Jesus Christ", and then I slammed the phone down as a co-worker passed by. I said, "What do you want me to say, Satan, Beelzebub, Mephistopheles" Except, I said Mephistophenes, not knowing how to pronounce it. My co-worker who bore a tattoo of Christ on the cross on his inner forearm, just started laughing at me, saying my name as he did. Boom, the door to the parts room opened and in warp speed the Fed X man came through the door in a split second stopping at the receptionist desk. Time subsided back to normal.
Now, I could go on with more ridiculous details, but I will halt right there. Point being, all of this led me to the streets. Is it mental illness? Was it my imagination? Should I tell you the rest of the story? Fifteen years later, this is the first time I've even shared this much of my battle of the mind and spirit. Am I the only one? Certainly, not. My aim, is only to help people overcome the torment of the mind in a psycho-spiritual crisis. It wasn't alcohol that led me to the streets. It was a case of mental gymnastics. Heck, I hardly ever drank any liquor until I hit the streets. I'm a beer drinker by preference. But, when madness comes in, southern abstainers will always blame alcohol. Think a little deeper folks. It's not that simple, and neither is "trying harder", or abstinence the solution to homelessness. That's a cultural thing driven by those in power that always look to point out a flaw of blame, when there's much more to the story. By the way, at the time I am writing this I am sober.
As has so often been the case, people have told me, "You don't look homeless". Or, "You don't look like the other homeless people", just let it be said I have a lot in common with the other derelicts I live among. I might not look dirty, dusty and poor, but I have a lot in common with Bobby who talks to his voices on the broken pay telephone downtown on a regular basis. I observe it every day, and I know what he's experiencing, and has fully embraced as his reality. I don't know how to help him out of poverty exactly because I can't even help myself. But, I know what he's dealing with. So, not matter what the voice(s) tell you, don't be afraid to talk about it.
However, when you find yourself on the streets and you can't figure out how to get off, and you want to know what's wrong with me, call it a case of PTSD, if you want. But, a system that just goes around blaming the homeless for being homeless is shameful, demeaning and downright evil, while heaping shame upon those who are living it. I overcame the insanity, by grace, but that doesn't seem to change my socioeconomic status, and my hope for a better life is all but gone with all the disappointment that has trailed it.
But, I will laugh when I can laugh as there was a time when I couldn't even do that. I will sleep when I can sleep, because I have to steal my Zzzzz's, when sleeping outside. I will feast when I can feast as food that I want is not always at hand. And, I will drink when I can drink, and I won't when I can't, and I won't lose any sleep. But, by 7am Friday morning after all the candy has been distributed & collected, according to the weather report, it's gonna be 32 degrees fahrenheit. I just hope I make shelter call, or find my apartment I seem to have lost. We, the homeless, need to be rescued, not humiliated any further.
MAGA
Make America Give-a-shit Again
Related:
https://gabenewmanblahgs.blogspot.com/2016/10/fruit-armor.html
One Bad Apple Spoils The Bunch
https://pictorial.jezebel.com/the-long-shadow-of-the-welfare-queen-1838856900?utm_source=pocket-newtab
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