Dear Person in a Tent on the Sidewalk… Dear Person Huddled Under a Tarp Beneath a Building Overhang… Dear Person Wrapped in a Sleeping Blanket on a Bench… Dear Person Asleep on the Public Transit Train…
I see you. I see each and every one of you, and it breaks my heart.
It’s so cold outside now, and it’s also the rainy season in our city. Everything you own is damp, if not soaked. It’ll be another four months before the humidity drops and the temperature warms up enough for your belongings to dry out. Of course, that’s assuming they aren’t ruined by mold.
You must be miserable being outside, and I have no idea how you stay warm at night on frigid concrete or a bench with icy air beneath you.
You didn’t become invisible to me when my homelessness came to an end. If anything, I’m even more aware of you now because I’ve been there.
Even though I was fortunate enough to call an old, drafty RV “home,” I know what it feels like to have nothing to wear but damp clothing because it’s impossible to prevent moisture from seeping into everything.
I know what it’s like to burrow under damp comforters, blankets, and sheets at night, dressed in layers of thermals and fleece, trying to create a little pocket of body heat to sleep in.
I know what it’s like to crawl out of that cocoon in the morning, check the battery-powered clock displaying the ambient temperature, and learn that it’s 39 degrees inside the trailer.
Homelessness is hard on the best of days, but there’s something about being cold and damp that makes the situation feel like quicksand you’ll never get out of. Those were the days when I felt completely defeated and wondered if there was any point in going on.
Every time I see one of you when I’m on walks or running errands, I feel immense sadness, guilt, and frustration. I wish I could make it so that you no longer have to sleep in a tent, under an overhang, on a bench, or on a train. But I don’t know how to do that.
When I see you, I see a person, not a “problem.” You didn’t lose your status as a human being just because you lost a roof over your head.
It’s hard for me to accept that I live in a country that believes an athlete deserves tens of millions of dollars to play a game but doesn’t believe that housing is a basic human right for every citizen. When that’s the moral compass of our society, it feels like a solution to homelessness won’t ever be a priority.
To all those who are living on my city’s streets…I just wanted to let you know that even though you may feel invisible, I see you.
–Bella
