A Breakfast of Champions

I had been cooped up in my house the past few days and awoke this morning with an urge to be outside. I decided to go for a drive. I got in my car, opened my sun roof and windows, and pulled out of my driveway with my destination remaining unknown. I’d fallen victim to the crisp weather, music, and sunshine, causing me to get lost in the enjoyment of my drive.   I soon found myself on the outskirts of downtown, near Richmond and 59. I started to get a little upset with myself due to my lack of awareness, that is however until I noticed I was approaching a drive thru Shipley’s Donuts.   I was in high spirits once again. Three glazed donuts topped with pink icing and sprinkles has always been a positive mood-changer for me. I sat at the light devouring my first donut, and suddenly noticed a girl, around my age, standing right outside my window.  She was holding a Styrofoam cup in my face, indirectly asking for money.   She didn’t say a word, only gave me a smile which made her appear helpless.  Unable to speak, as my mouth was full of donut, I gave her a head-nod and began searching in my purse for a dollar. She smiled and said "thank you" in an angelic sounding voice that almost seemed too sweet and innocent. She pranced back to the corner as another car approached the light. An older man was in the driver’s seat.  He was awkwardly staring forward pretending not to notice the helpless girl, and was probably praying for the light to quickly change.  She went up to his window, just as she had done to me, and held the cup in his face. The man put his hands up and shook his head no. The sweet, almost little girl demeanor she had moments before morphed into an angry, pissed off woman.  Without hesitation she put the cup down, looked the man dead in the eyes, and forcefully held her middle finger in the middle of his window for about 5 seconds.  She then rolled her eyes and hastily turned around, returning to her spot on the curb. I couldn’t believe what I had just witnessed.  I was laughing so hard I almost choked on my donut.  As I was consumed with laughter, I was unable to see that she was watching me, and didn’t find the situation quite as humorous as I did.  She was mad, and I apparently made things a little worse.  She stood up, looked right at me and yelled "I would have laughed at you shoving that damn donut in your mouth but I wanted your dollar!”  I was quickly put in my place. I laughed a little more, wiped the icing off my face, and pulled over in a nearby parking lot. I was fascinated by the manipulative games in which she played on those driving by and wanted to talk to her. 

I got out of my car and could immediately feel her cold stare.   She stood with one hand on her hip, sizing me up and down as I slowly crept towards her.  I said “Hi” and she loudly shouted back, "What the hell do you want?” I froze. This was not turning out the way I had planned.  Memories of previous warnings from friends and family to be careful while talking to homeless people came to mind and suddenly made perfect sense.  I felt I had no control of the situation and that made me nervous.  I didn’t want her to know she had startled me, so I tried my hardest to casually walk up to her and introduce myself.  With a friendly smile on my face I told her my name and a little about my blog.  No response.  I didn’t know what to do or say.   Unfortunately for me, whenever I’m at a loss for words, I start talking about anything and everything.  I’m still not sure what exactly I said, but it was along the lines of “I know you don’t know me and probably don’t like me very much after what just happened and probably think I’m crazy for coming to talk to you but I thought what you did to the man in the car was super funny and I think you are funny and if I were in your situation I would have done the exact same thing.”  I then told her I thought she was “cool”; a comment in which I will forever be mortified came out of my mouth.  I was a fast-talking, nervous, rambling wreck and she knew it.  My painful monologue must have evoked some sort of emotion within her because after a few more seconds of chilling stares she finally smiled and gave me the go ahead to sit next to her and talk. 

We started our conversation, and I was amazed with how open she was.  Her only request was that I don’t share her name.  She lives a life addicted to heroin and expressed her need to collect money each day in order to feed her habit. Her daily routine is as follows:  she wakes up, collects money, and gets her fix, only to wake up and do it all over again.  Addiction has been her way of life for over ten years, and has caused her to lose everyone she has ever cared about.  She said it’s impossible to care about someone or maintain any type of relationship when the sole focus of her mind is on a drug.   She believes that she will never be able to conquer her addiction.  It was sad to see such a savvy, street-smart, intelligent individual be completely content and accepting of her addiction and place in life.  Addict or not she’s a genuine, honest, real person; and it is in those qualities where her true self resides.  Hours quickly passed and it was time for me to leave.  I thanked her for her kindness and willingness to converse with a complete stranger.  She didn’t have to, especially after all that happened, but she did and I appreciated it.

I got in my car and noticed my last donut sitting on the passenger’s seat.  As I sat at the light I rolled down the window and handed her the remains of my cold, yet still delicious breakfast, along with a napkin just in case she were to enjoy it the way I had.  She took the donut from my hand while laughing, shook her head, and walked away.  Had I met her a few weeks ago, I probably would have allowed her heroin addiction stand in the way of actually getting to know her.  I am able to see changes within myself that might not have occurred if it wasn’t for the homeless, so to them I remain forever grateful. 

http://sabrinalloyd.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-life-changing-experiment.html

Its A Small World After All

I am not one to allow obstacles or hardships stand in the way of accomplishing my goals, but I must confess that my encounter with Mike last week caused me to feel uneasy about my next pursuit. My passion was still intact however alongside that passion sat newly formed feelings of doubt and uncertainty. I was determined not to allow these thoughts to take control as I hesitantly walked down the street in search of someone new. As I stood on the corner waiting my turn to cross the street I saw in the distance three familiar faces. These people were a family, and it was my encounters with this particular family over the past few years that inspired me to create this blog. Although they had no idea who I was, they had affected my life in great ways. All negative feelings erased from my mind as I stood on the corner staring in their direction. I stood still for a few minutes completely mystified by the impact this family has made on my life, and thought it funny that in their eyes I was nothing but a stranger. The universe works in mysterious ways.

My first encounter with them occurred several years back. It was early morning and I was on my way to school. I was stuck in traffic and noticed a middle-aged couple asking each passing car for assistance. At first I didn’t give them much thought, as being a witness to homeless people had quickly become an insignificant and everyday occurrence. Then, I noticed something. Behind the couple sat a little girl in a yellow wheel chair who appeared to have some sort of mental illness. I had never seen a family, especially one like this, living on the streets before. Seeing this family for the first time consumed my mind with confusion and forced me to see a reality I had never before imagined. I decided to call my dad. I’ve always had a special connection with my dad. Anytime something is on my mind, I need guidance, or just feel like talking, he is the first person I call. Our wide spectrum of conversation ranges anywhere from philosophical talk of spirituality all the way to jokes in which my mother refers to as “bathroom humor,” but we find hilarious. My dad and I talked as I slowly drove through traffic. It was hard for me to understand how two parents caring for a child with a disability were able to survive with no real home. This family needed help. It was the first time I was able to see the effects of recession with my own eyes. I hung up the phone as I got to school and though still disheartened, put this family out of my mind. Thinking about them would only upset me so I stopped and continued on with my day. They were nothing but a distant memory, that is, until our paths would cross once again.

Six month later and miles down the road I had my second encounter. I was leaving my friends and had stopped to get gas. I walked inside to pay and the first thing I saw was the little girl. She had a huge smile on her face and was giggling while looking at someone directly behind me. Knowing her living situation I wondered what exactly it was that made her so happy, so I curiously turned around to see who or what it was that gave her such joy. Her dad was behind me and was searching through a cooler filled with ice cream. He finally picked one and proudly held it in his hands while waving it in the air as he approached his daughter. At that point in time, nothing seemed to matter to them except for a chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwich. I watched as he grabbed coins out of his pocked to pay for the treat, and tried not to stare as they sat together outside and he helped her eat their newly purchased treasure. I had never felt such happiness from ice cream before and became a little envious of their appreciation for such an insignificant thing. The immense everyday struggle this man goes through to care for his daughter and ensure that she see beauty our world, despite their current situation, boggled my mind. It also represents the point in my life in which something deep inside me changed, enabling me to view the world differently than I had before. I drove out of the gas station filled with empowerment and hope, with the man and his daughter being the culprit.

Flash forward to present day and there I was, standing on the corner awkwardly staring ahead at the family. I was in a reflective state as memories and realizations were rapidly flying throughout my head. I started to walk in their direction in attempts to make a connection only to find myself stopped after a few short steps. After much consideration, I concluded that meeting this family wasn’t the right thing to do at this point in time. This family has come to represent a lot in my life and has stimulated my mind to be more open to new thoughts and ideas. I realized I was the one who had lessons to learn from them, not the opposite. I stood smiling in their direction for a few more minutes, and then turned around to go home. I felt true happiness but most importantly blessed for the simple fact that this family had yet again, changed my life.  

Reality 1, Sabrina 0

I've come to the realization that my newly formed assumptions about "the homeless" are wrong. I have been fortunate to make connections with some amazing and intelligent individuals over the past few weeks, and because of my luck, I began to   assume each homeless person would act that way. I used these unique experiences to form an opinion about homeless people as a whole. I was subconsciously grouping these people together and making judgments. I now realize each person is different, no matter what "group" society says one belongs.  A person should be defined by the actions they take, not based on wealth, religion, race, or any other stereotype.   

I met Mike outside the sprint store on the corner of Westheimer and Shepherd. I had arrived 15 minutes prior to the store opening so I decided to sit outside on the curb and enjoy Houston’s recent change in weather. I sat with my eyes closed as the sun beamed down my back and cool breeze blew through my hair. My eyes quickly opened as the deep and raspy voice of Mike asked me for change.  He appeared to be in his late 50's and wore a navy blue hat in which matched the torn bandana that wrapped his left ankle. He limped closer to me, appearing to be in great pain.  I had to make a decision; spend the morning with him and go another day with a broken cell phone, or continue with my already planned day and risk the chance of meeting someone new. He looked like he had gone through a lot in his life and I wanted to know more, so decided my cell phone could wait. I told him about my blog and asked if he would be interested in getting a cup of coffee across the street so we could talk for a while. He agreed, and we walked across the street to Starbucks. As we walked, I noticed that his previous and seemingly excruciating “limp” had become almost nonexistent. Not wanting to believe he made up the injury, I quickly dismissed the thought from my head.

 As we sipped our coffee he told me a little about himself, or maybe I should say the person he wanted me to believe he was. He informed me of his 15-year unemployment streak.  In my eyes Mike seemed perfectly capable of maintaining a job, but he insisted his “bad ankle” keeps him from working. With almost everything he said, he emphasized his misfortunes and need for money. He seemed very negative and detached. The longer we spoke, the more I was able to see what his true motivation of having coffee with me actually was. He didn’t want to know me, and certainly didn’t want me to get to know him. He wanted my money and was prepared to say anything to get it. Once he realized I had no money to give and could not benefit him in any materialistic way, he angrily got up and walked away, limp-free.

Alone at the table with only my thoughts, I noticed how upset I was.  I felt insulted.  Until this point I’ve never had a negative experience talking to a homeless person and ignorantly thought each person would be the same.  It probably sounds horrible, but I felt like I was doing these people a favor and each person should be grateful for my reaching out.  I had to question my motivation at that point.  Was I only writing this blog to satisfy my own ego and feel good about myself? 

After hours of thinking and reading my previous blog posts over and over, I came to several conclusions.  I thoroughly enjoy writing this blog.  Meeting new people, figuring out a way to relate to them, and making a connection satisfies something deep inside me and makes me feel alive.  I realized my personal agenda is not fueled by self-gratification, but by curiosity, knowledge, and truth.  I am not perfect though, and began to notice how judgmental I’ve been acting which is wrong no matter my intentions.  I was unknowingly separating myself from the homeless, and that subconscious separation goes against everything I believe in.  It’s funny how I often find myself so sure of something only to be slapped in the face with reality and have that "certainty" quickly vanish.  My experience with Mike shouldn’t affect my feelings towards any other person, just like all my other encounters shouldn’t make me think all homeless people are simply misunderstood. That unpleasant hour I spent with Mike has strengthened my belief in the importance of looking at the individual and not the stereotype. Learning to view people in such a way is not easy.  I’m grateful to have found Mike because without him I may have never learned this valuable lesson. 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Wks2hg6PrM

A Not So Strange Stranger

The most compassionate, dedicated, loving, and influential person I know is my mother.  Everything that I am, I owe to her.  I will never forget the Friday nights my sister and I spent dancing with her around our living room to her vast collection of records (The Beatles being one of my favorites), or the stories of her childhood that I would beg for daily and can now recite by heart.  We were a family wealthy in spirit but lacked in material.  With money always a major concern to my mother, she worked hard to make sure we were taken care of.  I will forever admire her devotion.

I met Karen last Saturday.  Her story is not a happy one, and has recently become quite common among working class individuals. The current state of our economy has left many without jobs and has forced many to live on the streets.  As I sat and listened to Karen I couldn’t help but see the similarities between her and my mom.  Karen has two young boys, and has committed her life to them as my mom did to our family. 

Upon first glance, I noticed her white t-shirt and stonewash jeans.  She is twenty-nine years old and her boys, Cole and Madison, are both under the age of six.  Being a young, single mother, she had to work two jobs in order to support her family.    Her sleepless and stressful workload left her with neither the time nor money for an education.  An unexpected illness caused her to miss several months of work and she soon lost both her jobs.  Once recuperated she actively looked for work, but had no luck.  Her bills quickly became too much to handle and was eventually forced to vacate her home.  She and her children have spent the last eight months moving in and out of homeless shelters around the Houston area. 

Recent studies show the amount of jobs lost due to the recession is estimated to be in the millions.  The working-class in the United States has been hit hard in terms of economy, and every day more and more are unable to get by.  Karen has no mental issues, is not lazy, and is not a drug addict like some people assume those in her position to be.  She is homeless simply because she cannot find a job.  The reality of our nation is scary.  The thought of having a job and home one day and not the next is scary.  And most importantly, the thought of not knowing when things will get better is scary.

The songs of Revolver, one of my favorite Beatles albums, filled my room as I looked back and saw the similarities between Karen and my mother.  I tried to imagine what my life would have been like if my family was in their shoes.  I do not know a solution to this problem, and trying to think of one entraps me with confusion and heart-ach.  The only thing I can do is remain positive and continue striving to become a hard-working, honest, and kind-hearted person like my mother and Karen.  For I believe real change begins with the individual. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQ_G9ETE21U

Space, Bleach, and a Snickers Bar

                Rushing home from school to do a load of laundry before work, I stopped at Kroger, my once go too grocery store, located on Montrose near Westheimer.  Moving back to Sugar Land a few months ago, it felt good to be on my old stomping grounds once again.  I figured I would run in real quick, get some bleach for my work shirt, grab a snickers bar I had been craving, and be on my way.  As I was walking towards the door, a boy, who was sitting on the left side of the store next to the street caught my eye.  Other than appearing a bit worn down, he looked like a perfectly normal teenager, but I could sense that something wasn’t right.  Although I wasn’t sure he was homeless, something inside me told me I should go over to him and say hi.  He was looking at me kind of strange as I slowly walked towards him.  A few days prior I had a knee injury causing me to wear a chunky brace, so when I say slowly, it’s no exaggeration.  We made eye contact during my long journey over, and he immediately looked away.  I was still able to see the side of his head however, and noticed he had a huge smile on his face and was trying his hardest to control his laughter.  Not sure if he was laughing at my newly acquired “walk”, I continued towards him.  When I finally made it, I introduced myself and attempted small talk.  He was very quiet, and I think a little embarrassed I had caught him laughing at my injury.  The only thing I could think to do was to tell him the story of how my attempt to be graceful had failed me once again, causing me to slip in the kitchen at work and dislocate my knee.  I reenacted the fall in the midst of my story and had him laughing out loud by the time I was finished.  The laugh we shared together broke the ice, so I took a seat in the grass next to him. 

His name is Nathan, and he just celebrated his seventeenth birthday.  We talked for a while. When I say we, I mean mostly Nathan.  He told me all about his love for astronomy and pretty much anything space related.   In the midst of his stories, I remembered that directly behind the Kroger is a homeless shelter, the Star of Hope Mission, in which provides temporary housing and food for underage children living on the streets.  Putting two and two together, I concluded the Star of Hope was Nathans current, but temporary, address.  Not wanting to be blunt and ask, I decided to inquire about school.  He said he dropped out of high school last year when he moved out of his mom’s house.  Considering he had just turned seventeen, I was a little taken back when I realized he moved away from home at fifteen.  When I asked him about his father, he abruptly said his mother was the only family he has ever known.    The happy and care-free Nathan I had known up to this point had now turned into someone completely different.  Earlier in our conversation while he was explaining black holes, I was able to feel his positive and happy energy.  Now all I could feel was sadness, along with a huge pit in my stomach.  He softly told me that he lives “around the neighborhood”. 

Determined to keep our conversation in good spirits, I had to make a quick decision.  I know the purpose of this blog is to try and figure out how and why people end up on the streets, but something about Nathan told me to stay away from any conversations of the sorts.   Looking into his eyes, I could see his heartache and could tell he lives in a harsh world, which I will never understand.  That’s why I decided to simply be his friend.  I figure with everything he is forced to deal with on a daily basis, the last thing he wants to do is talk about it to a stranger.  So instead of my usual questions, the questions he thought I was going to ask, I asked him if he wanted to help me with my grocery shopping.  I told him he would be doing me a great favor due to the fact I had a bum knee.   I could see a look of relief on his face as I stayed away from his personal life and asked just for his company.  He agreed to help, stood up, and lent me his left hand to ease my way up off the grass. 

We spent over an hour in the grocery store.  We talked about random, unimportant things, and spent the majority of our time laughing.  It made me happy to walk around the isles of Kroger with Nathan, and he seemed to be pretty happy as well.  He helped me to my car, and even opened the door for me.  I said goodbye and told him I hope to see him again soon. As I looked in the rear view mirror watching him walk away, I realized the huge smile on my face.  I don’t think Nathan has many people in his life he can count on.  I think he simply just needed a friend. 

As I rushed home I realized I had no time to wash my work uniform.  It’s amazing how quickly time passes in good company.  Sure, I had to work that evening with a large merlot stain on my sleeve, but it somehow didn’t seem so important.  From Nathan, I learned the importance of being kind to others, despite their status in society.  Nathan faces many hard challenges on a daily basis that most can’t even fathom, and the last thing he wanted to do was spend the afternoon discussing them.  I am grateful I was able to get to know him and take his mind off his everyday problems, even if it was only for a few hours.  A simple smile or hello goes a long way, and that, is something I hope to never forget.   

Bill and his Blue eyes

Looking into his piercing blue eyes, I could sense a deep pain and sadness.  Bill is an older man who sits all day on a street corner near Downtown Houston.  His raggedy clothes and sun burnt skin speak for itself, which is why he doesn’t find it necessary to hold a sign asking for food or money.  At first, it was hard for Bill to open up to me, which I fully understood.  Attempting to break the ice, I told Bill a joke.  Throughout my life, I have found humor to be a helpful tool whenever I am in an uncomfortable situation.  Bill finally smiled then laughed a little, and told me how I reminded him of his daughter. 
He spent most of the afternoon telling me about his family.  I quietly listened as he told me about his son’s football practice and his daughter’s 5^th birthday party.  I could feel his happiness escalate as he was able to tell me such stories.  Towards the end of the conversation I asked him if he was still in contact with his family, and he got quiet.  He told me he had not seen them in years and felt it was too late for a relationship of any kind to develop.  On my way home from meeting Bill, I felt a little down.  To see someone like Bill who once had a great relationship with his family and now not even know where they are was very upsetting to me.  I guess it's pretty easy to give up in life.  Bill is a smart man, very capable of maintaining a job to support himself and his family, however he just  gave up and allows life to pass him by.  In life, you have to fight for what you want. If you stop fighting, anything can happen.  Bill gave me motivation to keep going.  The ups and downs in life are never ending.  I know my life isn't perfect, and I also know sometimes giving up seems like my only option.  Bills honesty  enabled me to realize once and for all to stay true to myself, my goals, and my values.  Had I never stuck with my idea to start this blog, I may have never learned such a valuable lesson.  In my pre-blog life, I allowed my ego to fool me into thinking that I would be the one encouraging homeless people to better their lives.  Now I realize just how huge my ego was to ever consider myself wiser than anyone else who walks the same Earth as I.  Even if Bill isn't able to help his children, he helped me, and will forever change the way I view the world.  

Tony and the Conspiracy Theory

I’ve been a loyal customer of the gas station on Elgin and Scott for the past three years.  For those of you not familiar with the area, let’s just say it’s not one of the “safer” parts of Houston.  As long as I can remember, there has been the same man standing outside the gas station always offering some sort of service in exchange for, what he likes to call “spare change”.  The idea of spare change always seems funny to me, being the poor college student that I am.  Anyways, he always offers to wash my car windows or to pump my gas in exchange for a dollar or two, which I find quite admirable.  Every time I see him he has a huge smile on his face, so I figured he would be the perfect person to spend the day with.  This was my first attempt to hang out with a homeless person and I was a little nervous, so I thought it wise to talk with someone who seemed to have a sunny disposition. 

 I drove up to the gas station, saw him standing outside, turned off my car, and began to walk towards him.  He greeted me with a friendly “Hey lil’ mama”, as he often did.  I introduced myself and asked him if it would be okay to talk to him for a little while.  He was very receptive to my request and his eyes lit up as we began our conversation.  We sat down on the side walk as I got to know more about him.  His name is Tony, and he has been a resident of Houston’s 3^rd Ward his whole life.  After exchanging pleasantries, the conversation took an unexpected turn.  “Hey Sabrina, I bet you can’t name the three families that REALLY control our country”, he excitedly asked me.  I was thinking in my head, is this guy really going to start talking to me about conspiracy theories?  I was intrigued because I myself am a conspiracy theory freak! I quickly asked him who, and he began to tell me about the Rockefellers, Bilderburgs, Rothschild’s, as well as the illuminati and their plan to create a one world government.  Not only did he know an abundance of information about conspiracy theories, he also knew information about the upcoming Presidential election, as well as current events.  I was thoroughly enjoying our conversation, and as bad as this may sound, was shocked that a man who has lived on the streets for most of his life was so intelligent.  He then told me something that has stuck with me ever since.  He said most people look at him like he’s a waste of a life, but he considers himself free.  He is free because he chooses to be.  Instead of creating problems in his head like most people do, he creates happiness by appreciating the beauty in the people and world surrounding him. 

  After hours of conversation the sun started to go down, so I thanked him for allowing me to get to know him and went on my way.  As I drove home, my mind was racing a mile a minute.  It was amazing for me to see a man, who really has nothing, be so happy, appreciative, and knowledgeable about life.  His passion for life was unlike anything I had ever seen, and his words will forever remain in my mind.  My day spent with Tony forced me to think about my own life.  Needless to say, my first time hanging out with a homeless person turned out in a way I never would have imagined.  His words inspired me.  I must admit, I went into this whole experiment not too sure about what I’d learn, and after my talk with Tony, I am starting to realize that what I’m doing is bigger than I thought, and going to affect me more than I had ever imagined.