I've always been very sensitive to people living on the streets...begging, sleeping, or in any way looking like their only option at that moment is to be somewhere that most of us would never be. I always immediately think about how this person got to this state. What happened in their life? Where is their family? Why are they alone on the streets? When I was a young kid and we'd go to Chicago to Shop or to see a Play, I would end up feeling sick to my stomach when I saw a homeless person...for days. I'd often not be able to sleep, just thinking about that person and what they were doing at the very moment I was sleeping (or trying to) in my warm bed. It made me feel so bad that I was "lucky" enough not to be like that or at least have a family that would never let that happen to me. As an adult, these same feelings run through my veins daily. I have images of my life and the homeless people I have seen--- the Indian woman with her child who sat and begged me while I was sitted in a taxi and a 2 hour traffic jam in Mumbai (she didn't leave my car for 2 full hours), the homeless man who I have named "Joe" who is wearing the exact same jacket for 2 years straight and sits outside the bus stop 1 block from my house-- never begging, never looking high nor drunk, and lastly the African man James who lived near my Apartment in Seville and who would try to sell me travel-sized Kleenex everyday for 20 centimos in the same dirty clothing. I think my curse is that I have never been able to forget these people or their stories. Maybe it is because I think of them as people and not just things on the street.Although I think that is true, I think the true reason I remember so clearly is that because beyond the occassional $5 donation or giving them my leftovers from a restaurant I have done absolutely nothing to help. Nothing sustainable, nothing at all. Actions speak louder than words, as we know.
My inaction was no different today. Here I was running for 2 hours all around the city...plenty of time to see an incredibly amount. I saw so much beauty and so much history...Jamaica Pond, Boston College, Museum of Fine Arts. Yet, I completely ran past some terrible things and just ignored them....homeless men (at least 5), a man mentally disabled begging on the street, and a couple people who looked like they have been on a bit too many chemical substances. Many people would ask me, "But, there really was nothing you could have done....you were running, you didn't even have a $1 and they may have been dangerous." Sure, that is true. But, why did I not even look at them in the eyes? Why did I just stare above their heads...like they weren't even worth focusing on? Why did I act like they weren't worthy of a smile or a nod of hello? A smile...that is something so small and something we all can do. I can only imagine how these people must not even feel like people anymore, because nobody treats them like people. Why am I contributing to the problem vs. trying to treat them like people?
So, sure I can't change the problem singlehandedly. But, what I can do is be more open to noticing the problem and treating them like people....even when running. No more ignoring. I am going to treat them like people with a kind smile or nod. It's a small act, but hopefully it will be the beginning of the end of me ignoring.
Always looking up and never what is in front of me on the street.
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