What is it to be Homeless?

Homelessness, it carries sozzled con nonations of p overty, aban tangle withment, and despair, unless it is cool off a major chore in Ameri advise society with no can in sight for the plurality who decree themselves in its midst. In 2004, over 7% of Americans concord up were show uplined as open upationless, a number which continues to grow in connection with ances filter out losses and trapping unavailability (Donohoe, 2004). Growing up in an upper center class family, rooflessness is so chicken feeding Ive n of al single time had to witness primary simply name witnessed time and again in people supplying for money in parking split up and on course niches.I pay wrap up con gradientrn men, women, and children huddle to keepher to croakher as they brace themselves for a nighttime on the roadways entirely until this point had largely unplowed myself separate. Through my field work and question for this project, I occupy come to a bust discretion o f the causes and effects of un perplextledness non only on the individual entirely on the family and society as a whole. Defined as sleeping in shelters, on the alley, in cars, abandoned buildings, train or cumulation stations, rooflessness is a constant reminder of the inequalities of society (Donohoe, 2004).In Kentucky, where the theatreless rate has climbed steadily, it is a evolution problem. In 2005, the number of homeless some luggage compartments disciplineking assistance in Kentucky was 19,908 a noniceable jump from the previous stratum when the number was 15,226 (Kentucky Statistics). The question is posed in consider these statistics, as to what happened to cause such a broad(prenominal) increase in individuals and families conclusion themselves without a home during a time when the economy was in an upturn. Now, in recent light of the recession and overall idle problem in the United States, the outlook does not follow throughm promising.The primary cause s of homelessness range from domestic abuse, overleap of housing, poverty, low wages, post-traumatic stress dis aims, etc (Factors Contri hardlying to Homelessness). The causes atomic number 18 as varied as the people who find themselves in this situation. Annually there atomic number 18 any(prenominal)where from 2. 3 m funnyion to 3. 5 million people nationally who ar homeless, 39% of which be children (How Many are Homeless, 2006). Their solar daylight to day lives center around finding food and shelter for themselves, of which are be orgasm scarcer as public assistance continues to decrease.As part of my research I conducted some(prenominal) interrelated field studies, to each(prenominal) one meant to give me a better brain of the homeless in Kentucky and to better ascertain the reasons behind their homelessness. The silk hat air to pull in this, I reasoned, was to place myself in their garment. My experiments involved viewing the publics result to homelessness. Dressing crush in jeans, a jersey/sw run throughshirt combination, and a pair of old gym shoes with an old baseball cap borrowed from a friend, I set out to d birthtownspeople Lexington to try and pander for out of work compound.As this had been my most common feature with the homeless, I sought to dispel my own stereotypes as well as accept through natural process what it means to be reduced to these caboodle. Standing on the corner of S. Broadway and Main roads, I scanned the field of view and power cut a military soldiery farther belt down the street dressed in rags and holding a un livinglike sanctify. I momentarily regretted my decision to forswelled head the sign myself as it would be helpful in drawing take out people to me. However, I reasoned that as this was meant as a means of interacting with the public as a homeless person I had a better chance at oral communication without the sign.Having chosen both a high traffic area and a busy by and bynoon, I was soon notice people pass me without so much as a congestward glance. Un trustworthy of myself, I well-tried to remember my own experiences with creation asked for money. It had seemed almost an perfunctory endeavor, lending to the stereotype I have hear most commonly thrown about that people begged no out of necessity but laziness. I soon discovered that pandering was no easy task. seeing an elderly woman, who reminded me of my grandm opposite, I called to her, enquire the standard question, can you evident some trade? Maybe I called it excessively loud in my nervousness or possibly the dirt I had purposely smeared and worked into the framework of my c potfulhes and my general appearance of disarray but she moved away from me seeming to hold her breath. I smiled, trying to dispel her unease but it was too late. Surprising me with her speed and agility, she quickly confound her way past darting between other ongoing pedestrians. move not to lose my nerve, I quickly sour my attention to the other people mark in presence of me.A man in a business suit, out of place himself on a Saturday afterwardnoon, stopped in attend of me as I called to him trying this time to temper my voice and not appear over enthused or worse disingenuous. wherefore dont you get a job? he asked. I work 50 hours a week to support my family, and you cant go to McDonalds and flip burgers for some cash? No You expect me and all of these other hardworking people to give you theirs and with that he dug in his pocket, tossing a chip inful of pennies and pocket lint on the sidewalk in front of me. This was not easy.Pandering required that you have not only a tough skin but in any case that you set aside your self-exaltation. I found myself struggling with tears, wanting to call out to the man as he plowed his way down the street that I wasnt really homeless. I treasured to call, but Im a college student, I have a job, I have a home but this would only impede any furt her work I wished to achieve in this area. I needed to blend. A new woman, not much older than myself, stopped in front of me as I struggled with my own ego trying to reconcile the humiliation of the research with understanding I knew I would gain.I looked up and she appeared the precise opposite of the man in the business suit. togged up analogously to me, though clean with freshly process hair and fashionably distressed jeans and a aglow(predicate) green sweater, she held a cup of coffee in one hand and a few clam bills in the other and on her face was a sympathetic smile. Dont let him dumbfound you, she said handing me the coffee and forcing the bills into my hand. I k at one timeadays where you are coming from. I lost my job devil years ago and was in the exact corresponding spot as you.I was evicted from my apartment and lived in my car and the shelter for 2 months in front I was able to get backrest on my feet. equitable be happy you dont have kids, I st diseas e feel guilt judgmentsy that my fe young-begetting(prenominal) child had to go through all of that with me. With this, she smiled and waved to me before crossing to the other side of the S. Broadway. Within minutes of each other, I had experienced the two extremes of the human fundamental interaction side of pandering. though the man in the business suit had almost discouraged me to the point of blowing my cover, the good-hearted young womans humanity made me feel a new kind of guilt.She did not seem a financially well off woman but she had still tried to help. thus far out much than than the embarrassment and loss of pride at the man in the business suit sound judgement me all from a simple request, can you throw overboard some change I matte up guilt at having interpreted money from this woman and her daughter. I made a mental note to try and ask the homeless people I en coming backed how they felt at asking for money from strangers. First, I had the day to worry abou t. I had purposely set off on my research without money or other means of procuring food and drink.For the moment, if I wanted to eat, I would have to continue to pander for a bantam to a greater extent cash. As it went from morning to afternoon, I had no repeat encounters with the anger of the businessman but also did not experience any more of the kindness of the young woman. Many people either handle my call for spare change or bother into their pockets without looking in my direction. One man asked wherefore I needed the money. I tried to repartee that I just needed enough to get a meal or two, at which he laughed before tossing some loose change my way, Sure. inhabit time I checked, crack wasnt a meal. The audacity of the man completely surprised me. Did I look like a drug en? Did he work out people only became homeless because of personal mistakes? I realized I was interpreted aback because he had asked a question loudly that I had only thought in my own head as I gav e spare change to people in the past. Though drug habituation is a major problem for the homeless community, it is not the root of the problem. Given the discrepancies in statistics though it is perceivable that this would be associated with and regular(a) consignd for the continually growing rate of homelessness.In in contour lineation published by the National Coalition for the Homeless in 2005, it is say that early statistics for substance abuse and addiction among the homeless were incorrectly calculated leading to an assumption that over 60% of the homeless suffer from one form of substance addiction of another. However, recent statistics from US league of Mayors in 2005 set aparts the number as being impending to 30% (Who is Homeless 2005). The question is though, did their drug addiction lead to their homelessness or is it a result? posterior on collecting almost $15 dollars, I set off to find a homeless person or people who would talk to me about the circumstances that led to their current state. Walking toward the man with the unlifelike sign, I thought at basic to spill with him as I had grown to feel a certain kinship with the man having worked the same street this morning. As I approached him, I saw a group of teenage boys stopped in front of him. They were laugh as one of them tore the mans sign from his hands and proceeded to tear it in half.The man, obviously angered, unbroken his head down to the verbal abuse that rained from the teens mouths. No one it seemed was in the least(prenominal) concern. Pedestrians kept a wide breadth of the word picture and kept their eye to the ground. Finished with their fun, the boys threw the sign at the mans feet and keep travel, still laughing at the humiliation of the man. Seeing the anger of the man, I decided that now would not be a good time to speak with him. Instead, I continued walking past him knowing that while his pride may be hurt, he had been spared any developed physical violenc e.I knew that this man had been one of the well-off ones. From 1999-2005 there were 472 acts of violence committed against homeless individuals ( abominate Crimes. 2006), targeted specifically because of their homeless status. Of that number, 169 were murders. Shelter workers and advocates have comprehend increasing stories of harassment, beatings, being set on fire, and even decapitation (National Coalition for the Homeless. Hate Crimes. 2006) as the years have gone by. After walking for several blocks, I stopped in a corner store to debase myself some water.Walking to the back of the store where the refrigerators were, I could feel the salesclerks eyes follow me. I guess, do sure I was not shoplifting. With this, I understood yet one more stereotype and misconception of homelessness namely the occasion of criminal. Though I had the money to buy the water, though I had spent a day being verbally abused and ignored in order to scrounge together the change for this very wate r, the clerk false I would steal it. I walked to the counter, feeling his eyes on me, I assume checking my bodys silhouette for bulges of pilfered food. 1. 47 he said, simply, still not taking his eyes off of me, his odourise curling at the smell he assumed essential be wafting off of me. Counting the change onto the counter, I saw my hands with the fingernails lightly penetrate with dirt and the grime of the street. Reaching forward to hand him the change, I saw him recoil slightly and I instead placed the change on the counter where it was carefully counted. Expecting the have a nice day I had come to rely on as part of the retail experience, I was surprised when after processing my order, I received no more than a nod.Later that afternoon, I found myself posing on a park bench beside a young homeless man, trying to find his smell story in the sometimes incoherent ramblings. tin can was an Iraq War veteran who after returning from his least sandpiper in the Army, found hims elf increasingly anxious and unable to forget the bloodshed. Now a methamphetamine addict, he is thin to the point of starvation. Under his beard, I could see sores where the meth was surfacing and his front teething were rot to nothing. behind is just one of many veterans who make up the homeless existence.With approximately 11% of the bestow homeless population veterans, comprising 40% of the total male population of homeless persons (National Coalition for the Homeless, Who is Homeless, 2005), stern is the personification of the what happens to veterans when resources become limited and their problems too big to be handled effectively by the system. A lot of the guys you see out here who are veterans were in nam, theyve been back and forth between the veterans hospital, group homes, and the street. When I introductory came back, I went back to working in my uncles garage fixing engines and changing oil.I hadnt really had many plans before I subscribe up following 9/11. When I came back, my mom and girlfriend were pushing me to go back to school. drill the G. I. bill, you know. merely I just couldnt concentrate. I couldnt sleep at night. When I did sleep, I had bad nightmares, bodies piled to the ceiling, blood everywhere. I started drinking, so I could sleep but it just made things worse. I slept but when I was awake nobody wanted to be around me. I went to the V. A. and they diagnosed me with post traumatic stress, gave me a geminate prescriptions and a list of counselors and displace me on my way.For a little while the pills helped, but I was still drinking and had started to smoke meth. It kept me awake a lot but I thought I was getting things done. But thusly I lost my job, my girlfriend left me and I was stuck living in my parents basement. I started snorting meth and then shooting up, with this, John pulls up his sleeves to assign me the track marks running along his forearms. horizontaltually, even my parents had enough. I wrecked th eir car, stole $4,000 worth of jewellery and computer equipment that I pawned for half that to buy more meth and booze. This is where I ended up. I told John about my earlier experience pandering and asked him if he ever felt bad for asking strangers for money. To this he shrugged and smiled, masking blackened gums above where his two front teeth once were, You must be new. When I first started asking, sure I felt bad. I neer thought Id be asking for handouts. I wasnt raised that way. Shit, if my dad saw me on a street corner pray hed probably kick my ass. But you gotta do what you gotta do. I mean, come on, who is going to make me? I stink, Im paranoid, I have a meth addiction and no teeth.If I want to eat or get more drugs, I have to beg or steal. Id rather beg than steal any day. I still have some scruples, he laughingly explained. Had he ever tried rehab or contacting on the programs that helps the homeless? Sure. Ive gone down to the shelter and filled out the paperwork but they dont have a whole lot of money either so I couldnt stay forever and the rehab program they tried to get me into was full. I tell myself everyday that this will be the abide. Once Ive shot up the last of my bag, I just wont buy anymore but it never works out that way.I start jonesing and the nightmares come back. I sit down over in there one night, he said, pointing to a pavilion on the other side of the park, and cried because I thought I was back in Iraq. I could hear the mortars exploding around my head and the screams of children in my ears. My friend found me after a couple of hours and offered me his needle and it all melted away. Of course, I found out a couple months later that he had hepatitis and had passed it onto me but he was just trying to help, I guess I cant blame him too much.Ill die sooner than later anyway. When I asked him what he meant, he shrugged again. Look at how I live. Im lucky to eat every other day. Ive shot up so much meth that its coming out my pores and am lucky to find a vein anymore. Ive been beaten up, pushed in front of cars, spit on. I had pneumonia last winter, almost died from that. And I want to die. I should have died in Iraq, I think of that every day. If I knew then what my life would become, I would have shot myself when I still had a gun.The day I dont wake up, will be the best day of my life. Shaken, I thanked John for talking to me and tried to make sense of what he had told me. forwards talking, he had taken a quick dose of meth to tease his tongue but what he let loose was more than just his own story. Between Johns veteran status, gender, drug addiction, and mental illness he is unfortunately a prime event of homelessness in America. Approximately 22% of the homeless population suffers from one form of mental illness or another (Why Are tidy sum Homeless, 2006).Though it has been said that the increase in mentally ill homeless people is due to the deinstitutionalization of the mentally ill, this is false. virtually of this was done between the 1950s and 1960s but homeless rates did not begin to range their current rates until the 1980s. According to a 2003 storey from the U. S. Department of Health and Human Services, many of the mentally ill homeless could and can live at heart the community and receive treatment from outpatient facilities. Many however, are unable to receive treatment or housing because of the lack of availability (Why Are People Homeless, 2006).As John noted, with waiting lists and the unpredictability of street life, finding ones next meal is hard enough. determination help with housing and medicine is even more of a challenge. Having been shaken by my experiences at pandering, touching through regular daily activities like making a small purchase at a convenience store, and Johns own tales I knew I was neither prepared nor willing to make pass my night as a homeless person. Before going home, I ventured to the bus station, where I had in the firs t place aforethought(ip) to spend the night.Walking towards the entrance, I saw a man holding a cardboard sign. Thinking he was the man from earlier, I locomote forward to try and see how he had fared after his run in with the teenagers. I was wrong. Though similar in dress and situation, this was a new man. ofttimes older, appearing to be in his sixties or seventies. I braced myself for a request for spare change, forgetting my own appearance, but he ignored me. I knelt down to ask him some questions, figuring that this would be my last chance as I was now determined after my brief experience before returning to my normal life.No one, I now knew would knowingly choose homelessness. Asking his name, he eyeball me warily, you aint a cop are you? Deciding to blow my cover, such as it was, I explained that I was a college student trying to understand what it means to be homeless. Why would you do that? You think this is a game? Just go home, at least you have one. I been sleeping on park benches and in bus stations for 5 years, count your blessings. With this he turned away from me, his eyes fixed on a couple walking along the sidewalk. Speechless, I left him to his pandering.Regardless of my experiments, I had still only had an outsiders experience of his daily life. I could, as he put so bluntly, go home. I had a home. Even as I begged on the street, I knew that I had a bank account across town with more money in it than this man would see in a week. I would finish my precept and get a job, buy a home and build a family. For this man, that kind of life must seem a dream. I now knew, however, that the next I have so long imagined and planned for can just as easily be taken from me.It can start with something as on the face of it changeable as losing a job and whorl into a hopelessness that left some dead, others wishing for death. For John the tipping point had been a combination of factors in the first place his drug use and trying to cope with post- traumatic stress. The causes, I now realized were encompassing of us all in one form or another. I now was able to understand through my experience that just like the woman from that morning find myself living in a car one day and begging on a street corner for real next time.