SCENARIO
I will become ‘homeless’ for 24 hours from noon on Thursday, July 20 until noon on Friday, July 21. Thursday at noon I will drop my normal attire and put on an older, less comfortable, pair of shoes (no socks), a pair of jeans that are too big (no belt), and a nondescript t-shirt. I will lock my wallet, cell phone, keys, corrective lenses and all other personal items in a locker. My vision is -3.00 and -3.25, not blind by any means, but it will undoubtedly be a blurry 24 hrs. I would leave myself with only a $5 dollar budget for my 24 hr experience. I will also carry a couple pieces of notebook paper and a pen to help me document the experience. To fit the role a bit better I haven’t shaved in about a week. My approach will be very honest, and I will explain to anyone who I meet that I am doing a project to best understand the homeless experience. While 24 hrs is a short period of time I feel it will give me a glimpse into a lifestyle and culture I have yet to experience.
PRE-DEPARTURE THOUGHTS
Since as far back as I can remember I always wanted to expose myself to the life of a homeless person, so the thought of completing this task is very exciting. But now as I am only a few hours away I am extremely nervous. A million questions are running through my head; Is it really safe? Will $5 dollars be enough? Who will I meet? How will they welcome me? Will I meet anyone at all? Where am I going to sleep? What am I going to do all day? What if something bad happens and I don’t have an ID on me, will the hospital take care of me? Less than a handful of people know I am doing this, should I have told more people when I was leaving an when to expect me back?
EXPERIENCE JOURNAL
Hitting the streets
: : from noon until 3pm : :
I walked around towards Boston Commons, making periodic stops at shops and park benches. I entered the Boston Public Library; I figured I would spend some time in there. I had been meaning to read “The World is Flat” but the NU Library has had it out of stock, and it wasn’t expected to be returned till the end of the week. I thought I would get a head start. I couldn’t read signs so I just asked people where to find the computer to search for books (they were a couple of feet away) then I asked were the elevators were to get to the floor I needed. They were also nearby with large signs (not having your vision is already turning out to be an issue). I found the book after lots of squinting. I began to read, and fell asleep (the book was very interesting) all the blurriness had taken a toll on my eyes and they were tired of straining. I feel asleep for what may have been about an hour or so. I woke up to a security officer telling me “No sleeping in the library.” I put my book away and left the library and began my walk towards downtown. Off the bat my self esteem was pretty low. My pants are falling off and I need to walk holding them up. And without glasses I couldn’t see anyone’s reaction to me, so I was expecting the worst. I am already feeling a little pain from these uncomfortable sneakers I am wearing. They are size too small and too firm, I can feel blisters already starting. I stopped at the fountain, and sat on a bench for a while. I wasn’t in a rush. I also found a way to tuck my jeans into the back of my shoe to lessen the pain of the shoe. It forced me to wear my pants a bit lower than normal, but it was worth it, now the foot pain was only on my front toes but the heal didn’t hurt as much. I walked onward.
Blue Eyes
: : sometime around 6pm : :
I have been walking around bored, alone, and not being able to see any details, which has become a very frustrating issue. I came across one homeless person in the Commons. He was pushing one grocery cart and pulling another. I approached him. His carts were both surrounded by little flies. I too become surrounded by flies; he didn’t seem to mind so I just ignored it as well. He was a dark skinned gentleman with water blue eyes. He was very skinny, and his ragged clothes were too big on him. I told him I was doing a research project on the homeless experience and I asked him if I could walk and talk with him, and he stopped immediately and despite his appearance, gave me a very eloquent response. He responded that he didn’t have a ‘normal’ homeless lifestyle, he stayed with friends most nights. I still wanted to hear his story, but he didn’t seem interested in telling me. He was extremely friendly about everything; I just don’t think he wanted to share his experience. I asked where I may find more homeless people, and he told me that they were scattered throughout. He mentioned something that I had already began to notice, it is not easy to identify who is homeless.
A Penny is a Penny
: : sometime after 7pm : :
I saw a man standing against the wall in an oversized red polo shirt and backwards running cap standing against the wall of a building next to a big red grocery cart. I approached him with the same line ‘I am doing a research project…’ he just nodded his head and smiled. I asked him if he spoke English, he said a little. Willy was from Mexico and spoke very broken Spanglish with a heavy Mexican accent. He had been living in CA and 6 months ago he came to Boston by sneaking on a train, the trip took 2 weeks. He didn’t like taking the “free-train” because he risked going to jail. Willy was a pan-handler, holding a cup out for money. He said most days he didn’t get anything. I asked if noticed any certain race or gender that donated more than others, he responded something to the effect that people all give the same amount, nothing. He didn’t like sleeping in the shelter saying that it was too dangerous. He then pulled down his shirt over his left shoulder exposing a huge cut wound that still had the stitching in it. The scar was about 2 inches long and went don’t the side of his shoulder. He also showed me a smaller wound on his back that happened at the same time. He was attached while sleeping last week at the shelter, getting stabbed both in shoulder and back. He was treated at Mass. General Hospital. Seeing his scars really freaked me out. Reality sank in a bit deeper and I realized how dangerous it could be on the street. I also never thought that a shelter would be that dangerous of a place. Sure I knew it wasn’t a fun place but I thought they would find some camaraderie in their shared circumstance. I would have figured the dangerous homeless people to live on the street and calmer individuals to live in the shelters. Willy did go to the shelter everyday at about 10am to shower. I stood with Willy for a good while and we kept talking. I used my hands a lot and tried to remember my high school Spanish. I asked him if he had any dreams or aspirations, a question I knew would be a difficult one for him to answer. Willy said he wanted to open a store. I probed further and asked what type of store. He told me a wanted to open a grocery store. I told him that was a great dream, and wished him luck. I asked him if he collected cans, and he said he did once in a while but that there weren’t enough cans and bottles, and that too many other homeless people are collecting. But he said he still continued to collect cans once in a while. He said “do you know how much a can is worth?” I responded: “about 5 maybe 10 cents?” he continued, “5 cents. That is 5 pennies. And a penny is a penny.” I replied smiling, “a penny IS a penny” he repeated once more, “Verdaaad, a penny is a penny.” We both paused for a moment as we both appreciated the value of the statement. Willy and I continued to talk we started to go through the things he stored in his red grocery cart which he called his “Car”. He takes his Car everywhere he goes no matter how far and he locks it up when he sleeps. We first went through a backpack in his Car. He showed me a pair of shorts that he found today. He asked me why people throw things like that out. I answered to the best of my ability listing the logical answered I was accustomed to, too big, too small, they got a new pair, etc. He then showed me a pair of shows he also found, they must have been a size 12, they were huge. Willy was probably a size 8. He was still excited about his finding, saying “they [they shoe discarder] may not [have liked it], but I like it.” He showed me bottles of soap and shampoo, and had me shake them to see how full they were. He had found these also in the trash. An overweight woman probably in her late twenties approached Willy, calling him “Papi”. She was wearing a tube-top and unflatteringly tight pants. She also had no shoes on, only socks. She came up and instantly began degrading Papi. She put a plastic shopping bag of hers in his Car and said “Papi, can you carry my bag down to McDonald for me, im tired…” he quickly responsed “where are your shoes?” Willy began to look in here bag, she snatched it shut “don’t look in there!” Willy didn’t want to walk down there and I sensed it. He responded no, and she began flirting and touching him, “please Papi… I’ll buy you a sandwich” he hesititated and responded no again. She continued “how about a beer, I know you want a beer.” He looked at me and looked back. He told her he didn’t want a beer. She rummaged through his car and found and empty beer can and waved it in his face. “Come on Papi, you know you want a beer come on, just come. Walk with me.” There was something about this girl and her intentions; I got really bad vibes from here. Willy told her he’d like a soda, and she agreed with an element of shock. Willy turned to me and we shook hands, he had opened his world up to me. He told to me he would be standing there later on, I promised to stop by later. As I walked away I remembered something Willy had said to me early in our conversation. He said the conversation we were having was nice, but that I wouldn’t be able to have this conversation with many homeless people because they are too dangerous.
Chris
: : not long after : :
I walked back into the commons and saw a slender man with a long beard standing in an oversized t-shirt and winter cap. I introduced myself and asked if we could talk about his experiences for my project. Chris was a white male and stood next to a large backpack and sleeping bag. Chris spoke perfectly and his answers were well developed. He appeared to have a strong intellect and I was shocked with his coherence. He had been in New Jersey and New York and came Boston a couple of months ago. He used to work in construction but work was slow he became sick and he eventually became homeless after selling off all of his goods including a laptop and his tools. He now only has a backpack full of clothes. Chris only sleeps in shelters. He spends his morning traveling from shelters in Boston and Cambridge until he is able to get his name on the list for a bed to sleep on for that night. After hearing Willy’s story I didn’t expect to hear that someone spent multiple nights staying in a shelter. I asked Chris about the safety of the shelters. Based on his previous experience working nights in a restaurant setting he said that shelters are like bars. Some bars are violent and draw a bad crowd and others are good and draw a better crowd. I commended him on his intellect and asked how many homeless people could communicate and operate on his level. He replied not many, saying “Most are on the edge….both physically and mentally”. Chris continued to tell me about the shelter lifestyle, “they serve dinner then you go to your bed space and you get up for breakfast at 5:30 AM and then they close for the day until the next night. I ask if he ever slept on the street if he couldn’t get a space in the shelter. He told me he rarely has too but when needed he stays awake, telling me sleeping at night is far too dangerous on the streets. (At this point I really begin to wonder what I am going do that night.) Another impressive fact about Chris is he doesn’t pan-handle. He smiled saying “its just not a very reliable source of income.” He said he works any part time maintenance work he can get from the shelters. He was able to live on that. He ate all of his meals at soup kitchens, spending his days walking from one soup kitchen to the next. I asked him about his long term goals and he responded, “I am going to get some more weight on me, get in better health, and hopefully the economy will pick up.” We quickly wrapped up our conversation as Chris had to run off as his Church services were about to start.
Personal Status Update
: : probably 8:30ish : :
Since I started I haven’t eaten or drank anything. My mouth tastes gross, and I am sure my breath is not very welcoming. My five dollars still remain unspent. I have folded over the top of my jeans because they are so loose but that doesn’t do much and they still fall. My feet hurt, and there little blisters on my heel and near my pinky toes. Weather is starting to get a little chillier, it would be nice to have some long sleeves. Part of me wishes this were a 12 hr project instead of 24 hrs. I am definitely ready to go home, and I feel as though I have already learned a lot. It is starting to get dark and its drizzling a little.
Taming of the Shrew
: : close to 11pm : :
I had been watching a dress rehearsal of a “Shakespeare in the Park” play; I believe it was ‘Taming of the Shrew’. Actually it was more like listening to the play, since I couldn’t really see anything. It held my attention for a while though. I left the play, and exited the Commons to head back to Willy’s spot to see what he was up to. He wasn’t there and it was kind of a shady area so I did not hang around. I decided to go to Dunkin Donuts to get a snack and use the bathroom. They didn’t have a bathroom and the food selection was limited too. I got an ‘Everything’ bagel. To be honest I wasn’t even that hungry I just wanted to go somewhere clean and sit down. I sat in Dunkin until they closed and they asked me to leave. I now had 4 dollars left and nowhere to go.
Minnesota Eric
: : around midnight : :
I was wandering the streets around the Frog Pond when I ran into a lost student. Eric was a research assistant at the University of Minnesota; he had been at an Artificial Intelligence Conference in Boston and was wandering the streets of Boston with his luggage, killing time before his 6:00 AM flight. Eric approached me and asked if I knew where the ‘Cheers’ bar was. I had been there before so I knew the general direction. I told him I had some free time and I would walk with him, and we should be able to find it. I explained my project to him and he was very interested. He was a friendly guy and we spoke about his studies and the conference. We made it the Cheers bar where I used the bathroom. Eric offered to buy me a beer but I just kept him company and had a water. In fact it was a very comforting meeting someone else I was getting really bored, lonely, and a little depressed wandering the streets. He mentioned he wanted to go to the other ‘Cheers’ bar in Faneuil Hall. I had nothing better to so do so I offered to guide him there. We walked and talked some more. When we got to the other one they had closed early. I walked back to the Downtown Crossing / Chinatown area to show Eric where to get on the Silverline. He appreciated my help, and I appreciated the temporary company. He got on the bus and I again began walking around alone. I walked to an areas that I didn’t really recognize and I came across Pine St., this must have been near the shelter Chris was staying at. Regardless I didn’t feel comfortable in this area so I walked back to what had become a new comfort zone for me, the Boston Commons.
The Dig
: : roughly 1 or 2 am : :
I was sitting on a bench in the Commons, being sure to stay awake. The sprinklers behind me on turned on, so I got up and walked around some more. I sat in front of CVS. It was well lit there so I began to read a ‘Weekly Dig’ that I had picked up. It began to rain…then pour. Luckily CVS had an awning. After a bit the rain slowed down. A security guard approached me and asked me to move. He was very nice and apologized many times; I thanked him for waiting for the rain to slow down before asking me. I moved a couple store fronts down to the ROTC store. No awning, but the doors where set into the building so I wasn’t in the middle of the sidewalk. I was a little worried though because it was much darker and because the way the store front was I didn’t have a great view if someone where to approach me from my left side. People walked by a lot. A lot of bar goers walked, some said things or nodded, other just ignored my presence. I just kept reading the Dig. I was reading at one point when I noticed the shadow of man approaching me. I could tell he was drunk and he was coming right towards me. I looked right up at him, and he looked at me then he stopped and turned the other way and started walking. I figured he thought I was sleeping and he was going kick me or something else to initiate a fight, perhaps I was over paranoid. One guy walked by numerous times and said “Whats up?!?” evertime. I also responded with a “Whats up”. After he passed by a couple times I was convinced he was up to no good and I didn’t want to stick around to see if he was looking for trouble. I began walking toward Government center.
No Loitering
: : after 2am : :
I walked into a parking garage lobby. I could see through the window what looked like the bench of all benches, it was large, dry, and clean. The door was unlocked so I just went inside and sat on it. I figure if I needed to move someone would tell me. I began doing the crossword. Not long after, a security guard told me there was “No loitering” and I was back on the street again. I walked a little further and saw a well lit corner with a flat cement surface, in front of a store entrance. I was far from most homeless people, but I wouldn’t call this a much safer area. I lay down and tried to stay awake, or at least stay alert while lying down. I periodically jumped up at what sounded like footsteps. I really was just counting down the seconds, waiting for the sun to rise again.
“What’s up?!?”
: : around 4 am : :
I got up and started walking back towards Park St. I walked by a couple Dunkin Donuts and saw that they opened at 5:30 am. I was excited at the idea that people would be out and about soon and stores would be open. I walked past my previous spots in front of the ROTC store and the CVS store. As I walked by the church I heard “Whats up?!?” I squinted up on the stair case and saw the same guy who kept walking by me the night before. Also scattered on the steeps were other homeless people. I responded with my customary “Whats up.” He gestured me to come up there and said, “You can come up, we don’t bite.” I was very shocked at this point. This fellow who I had marked as a threat before was actually looking out for me. Perhaps when he had walked by so many times before he was checking up on me. I had gained his respect as a homeless person. I could not approach him however and tell him that I was only doing a project. I did not want to come across as the rich student “playing” homeless for a couple hours so I could go home and write about it, even though it was the truth, I did not want to rub it in. I told him I was alright, and I just kept walking. I made it back to the Dunkin by the commons to find out that the store opened at 6:00 AM. I thought it was appropriate that since I was the last customer to leave this Dunkin Donuts last night I should be the first one there when it opened. I laid down on the side of the slate wall of the commons till the store opened. I kept sitting up to see if the lights were on, it seemed like forever.
Dunkin
: : 6 am-ish : :
I got a donut. This is really ironic because a week prior at the Ruggles subway stop a homeless woman approached me and asked for money. I told her if she was hungry I would go with her to the Dunkin Donuts. She agreed. She asked me what she could get and I replied anything she wanted. She hinted that she was thinking of getting a donut. I advised that donuts are very high in sugar and not as filling; I proposed she get a bagel. However I reassured her that no matter what she ordered I would pay for. She ordered a donut and juice. Now look at me, in her shoes and I am making the same decision. I really just wanted the sweetness and luxury of a donut rather than a dry bagel, perhaps she chose the donut for the same reason. I now had 3 dollars and change left.
At the finish line
: : the rest of the morning : :
I read the newspapers for the day, the metro, an auto-trader, and what ever else I could get my hands on. I was still hungry as the donut never really filled me up so I had a bagel from Dunkin. I am now left with 2 dollars and change left in my pocket. I laid down around the commons and read and relaxed time was going by really slowly. I kept thinking how nice it would be to shower and sleep. How great it would be to see things clearly with my glasses on. How nice it would be to put on a comfortable pair of shoes and clothes that fit. I could not wait to return to my reality.
REFLECTION
Without even leaving the state I was able to enter a culture and lifestyle that was a world different to what I am accustomed to. I met people I normally would have never met, I faced challenges I had not anticipated, and I learned a lot about myself in the process of 24 hours. I especially learned the importance of having a place to call home. Home is safe, warm, friendly and reliable. I was surprised to learn of the dangers of being homeless. I figured I would be able to sleep in the park and enjoy the summer night outdoors, as I learned, the night is not as safe as I had thought. Also, being homeless can get very lonely. When I meet the student from Minnesota, I was glad to have the company even if it meant more walking. The homeless experience was at times depressing, I was alone, uncomfortable, tired, hungry, and bored, all of which I feel contributed to an element of depression. I felt like a waste; I had no-where to go and no one wanted me anywhere. The first time I felt accepted in my experience was when I was invited to sit on the steps of the Church with the other homeless people. This experience was defiantly only the tip of the iceberg, as I am sure in a longer experience I would have learned much more about what it means to be homeless. Despite the short time period I learned significant amount about what a ‘homeless’ lifestyle means to me. Perhaps I will test myself at weeklong homeless experience later in my life. For now I will cherish the comfortable bed I sleep and the protective roof over my head. I have been tremendously fortunate in my life, and I am grateful for that.