Thursday, June 20, 2013

What The World Actually Needs

DISCLAIMER: After a year on this damn blog you'd think I'd be able to learn how to format the damn thing? Yeah, I apologize this entry is fucked in format too. Sorry. Any computer geeks want to go through and fix my formatting through the blog I'll bake you cookies. =/

I'm sitting on my comfy, plushy bed in nothing but my bathrobe, which isn't even tied. (Hi NSA!) There is a mountain of clothes on the end of my bed, serving as a foot rest. The mountain topples onto my floor. Laundry I was going to hang up...a week ago that's now a jumbled mess of both dirty and clean clothes. I have my entire wardrobe back and it overflows out of my over sized closet. I just got out of a warm bubble bath. After I write this I will be going to bed as I work at 6am tomorrow. College student abuse.

It's a different picture than what I was living six months ago yes? Hard to believe that this life and that life are both parts of my life.

I ran into Beard Man at Walmart the other day. I don't know if I ever explained this on the blog before, but when a staff runs into us in "real life" they can't acknowledge us until we acknowledge them. Confidentiality. His eyes lit up and he opened his mouth to say hi then promptly shut it, hung his head, and continued walking. I started laughing and said hi.

I will say, every time I run into staff in real life they really have never been able to be coy. I think it's funny.

Anywho, Beard Man has left the organization. "Too much bullshit?" I asked. He sort of shrugged and said, "After four years it was time to go". I was sad to hear he was leaving. I can't even possibly imagine that place without Beard Man. Who would I write grievance forms about? I will miss him though. It's a sad day for homeless youth.

Director Lady left shelter. She now works at the housing program geared to younger youth (not the one I was in). Houdini said shelter has gotten worse since she left. It's hard to imagine shelter without her.

Seems everybody is moving on and the faces for homeless youth are changing. It's summer now, not that Mother Nature agrees. And with summer comes a new rush of homeless youth and tourists. The clash between the two groups is already playing out in downtown. I was there the other day to sell my books at Powell's and I saw tourists harassing street kids I didn't know. I always just keep walking even though I remember how awful it was when I was that street kid.

I remember when I was in McDonald's and a fat lady started talking about snatching the kitten right out of KL's hand. "She doesn't deserve an animal." There was one time KL asked a man outside of a bar for a cigarette. "I support my habit. You support yours." He told her. She was stung. And both those times I was too. We weren't humans. We were street kids.

But, when I see street kids I don't know in downtown I just keep walking. I don't bat an eye when they are hassled. The other day I met up with a friend who insisted on feeding me Jack in the Box. He insisted on buying a medium fry when I only wanted a small. I ended up giving most of it away to a street kid sitting in front of my bus stop. I know that's not what she really wanted. She could have all the food she wanted by just walking ten blocks. I knew that. She knew that. But she took them and thanked me and ate them before I got on the bus.

Sometimes, when I see these kids I don't know, I want to tell them I've been there. I can never bring myself to do it. It's not like I'm that much better than them anyways. I'm probably losing one of my jobs. I'm not any closer to a career. My best friend and street sister is missing in St. Louis. My street brother is selling drugs. My relationships are in shambles. What the hell do I know? I'm no better. Tomorrow, my world could fall apart and I could be homeless again.

Today, right as I was clocking into work my friend Sleepy sent me this message:

so I've been thinking about what to type. I apologize if it's kind of weird that I insert myself into your life in a random way intermittently. The "dc4" is celeste [his cat] typing on my keyboard (no joke) as I was thinking of what to type, you know, the cat that reminds me of you and kath.
Anyways, I certainly thought about you and your predicament from time to time. I mean, I've read how you've pretty much bootstrapped your way from a homeless shelter > halfway homeish > jobs and now finishing up your degree. That is really admirable. I wonder if I could do something like that and I also envy that. Everything seems so superficial from my world, though that may just be my depression talking; it has put a damper in my attempts to communicate with you and pretty much everyone else. It says "Why bother?"
But I still want to catch up, I read your blog recently. I hope things continue to go well. You certainly work really hard and are very kind. We need more people like you in this world. I need to do the same.

I've had a lot of friends say similar things. I never really know what to say to it. I don't think what I did was all that remarkable. What would have been remarkable would have been never ending up there in the first place! I don't think of being homeless as a success or something to be proud about. You should all be proud you've worked hard enough to never end up in a shelter!
I think all of you would be capable of surviving if put in that situation. Thousands of people do it. I'm not the only one who has worked her way off of the streets. I think each and every one of you would be amazed at what you are capable of when put in that situation. We all rise to the challenge when put in those situations, because you don't have any choice but to rise to that occasion.
Most importantly, people need to realize I did not do this on my own. I never would have survived without this blog. There is no way I would have made it even a week without knowing that people were coming online, reading my adventures, and cheering me on. I never expected this blog to become anything other than my therapy to get me through it. I was AMAZED it became a "thing" and the views from all over the world increased every day.
I quickly learned who my real friends were. I was shocked by who rushed to help me. It wasn't my "besties". In fact, a huge group of friends abandoned me at the beginning in the most self righteous way. Honest to God, it was a team effort. I haven't missed them one bit though. Being liberal doesn't automatically make you a good person. Especially when you act hatefully.
Most of my support came from online friends like Sleepy. What was all the more incredible about it was the fact that I don't think I ever out right asked for help once. I received more care packages, letters, and money than any street kid I know and I never once asked.
I actually felt uncomfortable about it at first. Eventually, I learned that the help wasn't just for me. I think it made people feel better knowing that they helped. No one was able to just pluck me off of the streets and make my life stable and happy. But they could send contact solution and slip me money here and there or send me letters and candies.
And these things mattered so much. It wasn't about the items or the cash or the candy. It was looking at those packages and saying, "To this person, I am a human being. To this person I matter."
From people that were little more than strangers. That's real kindness.
This is not to say that my friends in real life didn't help. They did. Savior Man moved mountains for me by keeping Spencer, letting me cook, shower, and rest at his place. My friends stood by me and helped where they could when they knew. Most of them just plain didn't know and definitely didn't know the dirty details. It was just easier to share my struggles through the anonymity of the internet than looking my friends in the eye and saying, "This is my life now. It's nothing like how you know me."
The world doesn't need more people like me. The world needs more people like Sleepy and Bunny. It needs more people like you, who stopped what you were doing today to read this blog. It needs people courageous enough to stop and acknowledge the street people they don't know. It has enough me's. It needs more yous.

--MM

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Day Three Hundred and Sixty Five

I was talking with a friend a few weeks when he said, "In the past year you've been through Hell and back". The statement caused me to pause. Up until then it hadn't dawned on me that it has been a year since this all started. But today is the exact one year mark since this all started.

I personally don't consider this year to have been Hell. I've seen real Hell and this year wasn't it. There are things in my life I'd change in a heart beat but I wouldn't trade being a street kid for all the money in the world.

I have never felt more alive than I did as a street kid, more than that I have never felt so connected to the people around me or more like part of a family.

I never really believe in love before this past year. I always thought it was just a four letter word people use to manipulate others. I don't even like using the word love. It's completely awkward out of my mouth. The only thing in the world I say "I love you" to is my cat. So, it's not something I casually throw around.

However, I think this year has taught me that love is a thing, depending on how you define it. Dictionary.com defines love as a "profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person or a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection". I remember in high school a friend told me, "Love is a choice, not an emotion".

I think both definitions are right.

I have a deep attachment to the kids that I survived the streets with. There's a connection between street kids that even after a year I cannot find words to explain. Even if the Ginger Clan came to me and asked for help I probably wouldn't be able to just walk away.

Love is not all roses and daisies and fairy tales. It's painful.

Street kids form their own families. Kitten Lady and Houdini were mine. Jesus too in some ways. I'd do anything for them. All three are still on the streets. I can't describe what it feels like to not know where your kin is sleeping at night.

Once again Kitten Lady has disappeared. It has been a month since anyone has heard from her. The last person who has heard from her said that she told him she helped a lady hit and the lady over dosed. KL tried to perform CPR but the woman died anyways.

At this point I am seriously considering flying to St Louis as soon as finals are over so I can find her and bring her home. Everyone tells me she is a lost cause and to put it bluntly, I should just let her die. I can't do that. People say the same thing about me, that I'm not worth the trouble. I know what it feels like when everyone has given up on you. I don't want to do that to her. If I would have stuck to her the way I should have she would have never gone to St Louis or been in this position in the first place.

Furthermore, I have never forgotten the day when we thought we heard gun shots and she covered me to shield me from the motorcycle we had mistaken for bullets. I know if roles were reversed she would go through whatever it took to bring me home.

I had her sing me a song on my voice mail. She sang "Lucky" by Jason Mraz.



Lucky I'm in love with my best friend. Lucky to have been where I have been. Lucky to be coming home someday. 

I cling to my blind hope that her singing that verse to me was her way of promising she will come home as I have been begging her to do. At the same time the song reflects my own feelings. I'm lucky to have had the experiences that I have had and met the people I have met through my experiences on the streets. I learned so much in the last year. It changed me.

One of the last times I heard from KL she said, "We were the happiest damn homeless kids. You've never seen a homeless person so happy." It's true. We really were happy. We had fun. It wasn't easy but we made the best of it. Our friendship is what got me through it. We laughed so much. Even our most awful experiences were the cause of laughter.

Like the day we were almost arrested for sleeping on the church wall but the cops were never able to get over the fence. I thought we were going to die. In the end it just proved Portland cops are too fat to hop a fence little homeless kids can climb.

Or when we got caught stealing food at Fred Meyers and had to run from the police with KL in a wheel chair, holding a kitten, with a face mask on. She lost her shoe and fell off the curb, sending the kitten running. I still wish we could have seen what we looked like.

We had a lot of hardships like KL's kitten being attacked by a pitbull or KL breaking her foot in Hell and having to carry her up while she was in agonizing pain. Then we had to use someone else's identity to get her into the hospital.

The girl who let us use her identity, we presume is dead. The last we saw her she was saying someone was after her. No one has seen or heard from her since. KL, Houdini and I all thought she was just being melodramatic.

There are some things I miss. I miss the freedom, the absence of any responsibilities outside of survival. I miss the connection to people, feeling like I was part of something bigger. Sometimes I feel lonely not being surrounded by people the way I was. Which is odd. I was always more isolated before being a street kid. Being alone was comfortable. Now, it's not.

I think overall I'm doing pretty well for myself though. This term I will finish my associate's degree. I'm working two jobs, both over minimum wage and I'm making good money. Not only that, I'm working two jobs I like. I have a nice townhouse and my cats are happy. In one year I pulled myself out of the streets. These are all good things. For the most part I am happy with where things are.

For awhile I was trying to get my old life back. I was trying to go back to the old lifestyle of dating, going out dancing, and being a social butterfly with my old friends. I still do these things but I've realized it will never be the same as it was before. I feel differently about things.

There is survival guilt. It's not really fair I get to sleep inside when I know my friends are sleeping out in the cold and rain. When it's nice out I worry less but when it rains I worry constantly about the people I know are sleeping out in the elements. I let people stay over when I can but with work and school I'm not always available.

Where has everyone else landed in the last year?

Houdini: is selling drugs to support himself but staying clean. He is saving up for a car and an apartment.
Jesus: is back in downtown Portland. He went home to his family but after various events ended up sleeping in a tent. He was working but eventually came back in hopes of getting services. He was denied services at OI because he left his job and is now sleeping outside.
Drama Girl hasn't left the streets or gotten her baby back but she is no longer dating Dreadlocks.
Dreadlocks I have no update for.
Baby Mama is doing well. She has her own place and little man is now six months old. He has a mess of curly hair, and just like in his ultra sound he always has his hand in his face.
Ginger Clan had a baby eleven months after they first claimed they were pregnant.
The majority of the kids I was in housing with were kicked out.

That's what I know.

It feels like it has been both longer and shorter than a year. I saw a lot of things that most people can't comprehend and I've faced a lot  of challenges but regardless, this last year is one I wouldn't change for anything.

--mm