Rich Hebron - Homeless but Human: Life in a Shelter

2018 Rich Hebron

Homeless but Human: Life in a Shelter

First Edition, October 2018

Blue Byron Books

Chicago, Illinois

Editing: Shayla Raquel, ShaylaRaquel.com

Publishing and Design Services: Melinda Martin, MelindaMartin.me

Book Cover: Mariana Krasteva

Author Photo: Alexis Pedroza

Homeless but Human: Life in a Shelter is under copyright protection. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved.

The author has tried to recreate events, locales, and conversations from his memories of them. In order to maintain their anonymity, in some instances, the author has changed the names of individuals and places. The author may have changed some identifying characteristics and details such as physical properties, occupations, and places of residence.

ISBN 978-1-7326882-0-9 (pbck), 978-1-7326882-1-6 (epub)

Contents

Preface

Every night at the homeless shelter, I scribbled words and quotes into a small memo pad. Though barely legible and written in the dark, they were enough to trigger my memory of events and conversations when I typed them in a Google doc the next day or two later at the library.

When I returned from living homeless, nine months passed before I read my journal. I was afraid to read it. What if my experience wasnt what I thought? I couldnt handle that. But I needed to find out. I read it, smiling and shedding tears the entire time. I wanted to share it with others, but it needed work. This book is a product of reflection and revision over six years.

I hope my experience can provide another perspective on homelessnessone different than youre used to. To solve the biggest problems of our time, we need to listen and learn from others lives, experiences, and perspectives. Sometimes it helps to take an unconventional approach.

CHAPTER ONE
YOURE GOING TO DO WHAT?

Pop! Reid pulled the cork from the bottle of red wine. He poured two glasses half full and raised one to his nose, closed his eyes, and sniffed.

Mhm. Mhm. Mhm. He bobbed his head, letting the experience of the wine marinate.

His studio apartment was small. I sat on the pullout sofa, and he sat on a wicker chair. He owned few things but placed them meticulously. A dark-brown shelf held ten books or sobooks I could barely wrap my head around, written by philosophers and economists. He remarked that he had started collecting antique Bibles and pointed to three tattered leather books. Reid dabbled in photographywell, enough to display two photos and convince guests he dabbled in photography. One photo was a bottle of Cristal, which he and five other friends shared the previous New Years. The other was the sunset behind the Milwaukee skyline, the city where he spent four years going to school.

Reid was the smartest person I knew, even though he was only two years older than me. We became friends in high school and competed on the forensics team, winning trophies and medals against other teenage public speakers in Wisconsin. Our conversations quickly veered into philosophical and changing the world directions. They evoked a curiosity inside me.

That night, he dove into the topic of quantum mechanics.

Im telling you, were going to be able to teleport! He threw one hand in the air and balanced his glass of wine in the other. But it wont happen in our lifetimes, probably like two hundred fifty years or so. I smirked. He held up a thick book. Its in this book right here. You see, the universe...

I zoned out quickly, but I did my best to nod along, pretending to be engaged and captivated. Honestly, science didnt interest me much, but I appreciated its importance.

Deeper into our bottle of wine, an hour later, we ordered pizza. We devoured two-thirds of it but hit a wall.

What should we do with the rest of it? Id hate to throw it out, I said, rubbing my too-full belly.

He shrugged. I dont know. Give it to one of the homeless guys that hangs out a few blocks away.

I furrowed my brow. Would they even want someones scraps? Isnt that kind of shitty of us to just assume? Our conversation steered into the issue of homelessness.

The truth was, we didnt know much about it. We both lived in large cities since high school. Seeing homeless people in Chicago was unavoidablebegging for change at intersections, guiding carts through alleyways, or standing in lines outside soup kitchens. It was always there, around us, yet vague.

Hmm. He scratched his head, peering to the ceiling for answers. What if someone were to voluntarily live homeless?

Like on the streets? I leaned forward and pushed up my glasses.

Yeah.

Can you do that? Is that allowed? I asked.

I dont know. Ive never really heard about anyone doing it. But Im not talking about like a night or even a week longer . I leaned back again, crossed my arms, and listened to Reid. Ive seen a pastor or two do it for a night or two, then come out transformed. Some churches do like a night on the streets where they camp out to build solidarity for the homeless and try to empathize. Dont get me wrongthats a good thing. But its bullshit. He tapped his fingers on the coffee table. What Im talking about is getting dirty, immersing oneself in the communityhaving a routine and taking on emotions like others.

How long do you think thatd take? I asked, genuinely intrigued by the thought.

I dont know. A month? Maybe a few months? I really have no idea. But imagine if someone did something like that. Itd provide a unique perspective to consider. He leaned to the other side of his chair, getting more comfortable. I mean, think how our perspective on the homeless usually develops: we awkwardly interact on the sidewalk, governments tell us numbers and statisticspolicies and initiatives, they say, have helped communitiesand nonprofits tell us how hopeless people are. Itd be interesting to hear a different perspectiveone that doesnt view them with pity or as numbers. For as much as large-scale, financially bolstered campaigns and programs create change, so do ideas.

My curiosity took notice. I began envisioning what living homeless would be like. Nervous butterflies fluttered inside me. Could I pull off an unthinkable quest like that? Learning how it felt to live homeless appealed to me most, especially as someone studying communication and psychology. What goes through a persons mind when sleeping in a park or shelter? What about when they beg for money on the streets? But what about the risks?

So what potential dangers do you think could come up? I asked Reid.

Well, you could get stabbed or shot! Not to mention illnesses. My stomach dropped. You could come out pretty fucked up psychologically, he added. Who knows... some guys might like it and want to stay.

I lowered my eyebrows with a disbelieving smile. You think that could happen if someone lived voluntarily homeless?

Sure. Why not? Its a possibility. Reid was always levelheaded, so I shouldve expected that answer. Theres also the other questions.

What do you mean?

Ethically. He scratched his chin, enjoying this deep conversation more than ever. It dove into philosophy. It wasnt black and white any longer. Voluntarily living homeless would be controversial. Would someone be taking away resources from others? he posed rhetorically to me. People would wonder about the genuineness. If you could theoretically leave your homeless situation when you felt like it, would the experience be authentic? Issues of privilege arise.