“Street People” (continued)

The entry right before this one was mostly written 2 months ago. I didn't get around to posting it until this afternoon. It was interesting for me to read it a couple months later and note some differences in my feelings about the subject.

I feel much more comfortable when I cross paths with street people than I did 2 months ago. If we're walking, we often get a friendly wave from people sitting on the curb at the bottom of the drive. Some of the conflict within me has died down. In all honesty, I'm not sure if this is a good thing. It's easier, but maybe not better.

When we visited Red Lake last winter, I observed a couple public places that seemed to accommodate street people. One store I went into had a chair right inside the door. I saw a man come in and just sit there for awhile. While I was in the mission's office, a man came in and used the washroom then left again. I talked about it later with Twila. I thought it was neat that people seemed to be okay with the street people and even let them use their facilities when they needed to. Twila's response was, "Yes, but maybe that's not always good." Meaning that maybe people in Red Lake just accept the street people as a part of life and get used to having them around, but don't really try to do much to help them or interact with them. Maybe we (and yes, I now include myself in this "we") are just too comfortable with the way things are. So I think that's a part of my lower level of discomfort with street people. I still notice when there is a police car or an ambulance at the bottom of our drive. I still pay attention when I hear a ruckus from down there. I still make the boys stay close to the house when they're playing outside. But it's not such a big deal now.

The other side of it is just that I feel more comfortable with the people that are there. So that's okay.

It took a long time for Eli and Evan to notice anything amiss at the corner. I was surprised that they didn't ask questions and didn't seem too concerned with loud yelling or laughing from the rock wall. But one day when Eli disobeyed and went behind a neighboring building, out of our sight, I decided to explain our concerns to him. I wanted him to understand why we wanted him to stay close to the house without scaring him. So I explained that the people who hang out down the hill sometimes drink too much alcohol. They're not bad people and they are people that God loves, but they have some problems. I explained that when people drink too much alcohol, they sometimes act scary or do really crazy things. They can't make good decisions. Eli seemed to understand and not get too freaked out. Apparently the words I used stuck with him because awhile later we passed a man that is a regular here. Eli said, "There's my best guy that drinks too much alcohol." So it would seem that he has favorites.

In the winter the mission does a soup kitchen 2 days a week. I'm hoping to be pretty involved in that. I admit that a lot of my motivation is selfish. I think that if I aquaint myself with these individuals, I will feel even more comfortable. And it gives me a feeling of security if the people hanging out at the corner know the house I live in and know me. And, of course, if I'm doing something maybe I can feel good about that and better about all the conflicts this subject brings up.

When I worked at the homeless shelter in El Paso I loved it. It was so good for me to be friends with people whose daily reality I could not even comprehend. And it felt good to care for people and to be cared for by them. (Trust me, if you want to be pampered and fussed over and get lots of advice, be pregnant and hang out with Mexican women. I just ate it up.) So I look forward to relating to people who are so different from me and yet with whom I have my humanity and all that goes with that in common.