Day 14: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

The serendipity of today's events has blown my mind...

Standing in front of the Housing Hotline the window bearing the flyer for the documentary screening, I quickly jotted down the venue and address. The name of the street rang a bell, but I needed to find out exactly where it was. As I walked back up the street toward the police station, these two gentlemen were looking in my direction, more curious than anything. I reached them and asked if they knew the address. “Are you going to see the film?” the elderly Black guy inquired.

Before I had a chance to respond, his shorter Caucasian friend with the cane added, “They are showing a film there tonight about the homeless in Newport. We’re the stars in it.”

“Really?” I smiled. “Right on! I just saw the flyer for it in the window. I had only read about it but was bummed because I missed the showing of it before I came to the state.” They told me where the church was located and said they’d see me there. I now had six hours to kill. I passed some time writing in a tea shop before walking along Cliff Walk. I needed to be near the ocean. I needed the smell of it to wake me out of my lonely, walking slumber. I needed the sound of it to replace the echoes of hate and indifference from the shelter with its clapping sounds of joy and welcoming. I needed the deep, electric blue of it to recharge my spiritual, mental, and emotional batteries. I needed the cool, energy of it to hold me in warm peace and serenity. I needed the vast, limitlessness of it to carry me away, allow me to let go.

Feeling more centered, more grounded, more connected with God, I left for the church. A lovely woman welcomed me at the entrance to the small parish hall and invited me to help myself to the array of refreshments. Tea. I needed tea as I was near frozen from the falling temperatures outside. Another lady from the church introduced herself to me and inquired as to how I learned about the event. I told her and expressed my desire to learn if anyone in this state ever proposed a bill of rights for the homeless. She said she had never heard of such an action but strongly suggested that I speak about it during the Q&A after the screening. We settled into our seats, the lights dimmed, and the documentary started. Soon after, my two new friends and stars of the film arrived and sat behind me.

The film shed much needed light on the plight of the homeless in Newport. I had no idea people were sleeping in graveyards. In fact, it’s one of the more “popular” places for them to sleep. For the life of me, I cannot understand why. I actually do not understand a lot of the day-to-day struggles they endure although I am certainly beginning to learn. My heart just hurts for them.

After the film, the producers Jimmy Winters and Al Angel were introduced and spoke their words of thanks. Then, the questions began. I waited patiently as others were called to stand up at their seats and ask the panel their burning questions. Finally, I was called to not only stand up but to also come to the front of the room with the panelists to pose my question. I introduced myself as the founder of the Coalition who has worked in the community with disadvantaged families including the homeless for more than eight years. I explained that I moved here on a leap of faith to undertake a spiritual mission which landed me in a shelter. Faces in the audience contorted into various expressions of confusion and surprise.

“The treatment that I am experiencing and which I am observing other residents experience has led me to propose a bill of rights for the homeless such as that passed by the House of Representatives in Illinois. If an organization is working on something like this, I would like join forces. If not, I am willing to get it started.” Before I could return to my seat, several people stopped me with information, suggestions, and offers to help.

After the forum adjourned, a gentleman came up to me, gave me his card, and said, “Let me know when you’re ready to move on this thing. I’m a former congressman and I know most of those guys up there.” More people came up to me. Some had the same reaction as the Window Man and the lady from earlier in the day. “Please don’t tell me you’re in [shelter name]? Are you still there?”

One very nice lady offered me a room in her home! I told her I had to come back to Newport for a meeting tomorrow. “Perfect, call me. It’s just me. I live in a nice, old Victorian. I have arthritis so maybe you can help me around the house. Call me and we’ll get you moved and settled.” She wrote her name and address on the back of my business card and gleefully chirped to several friends, “Sapphire is going to come stay with me for a little while.”

Another young lady came up and introduced herself as someone who is presently interning at the shelter. “I know what you are talking about. I see it, too,” she said. She, too, is aware of how staff and security personnel are treating the residents. Perhaps she sees the truth because she is just getting into the work—is still fresh, new, and untrained in the ways of the system there. She left and another artsy, hippie type young woman took her place. Her work focused on ending child sex trafficking; she proposed that perhaps our organizations could collaborate on a project.

“Sure,” I exclaimed in an understated tone. I was just overwhelmed by this point. My goose was cooked. Hippie Chick drove me to the transit station and waited with me until the bus back to Providence arrived. I boarded. My phone rang a few moments later. It was the Victorian Lady. She asked me more questions about what I had and what I needed—winter clothes, shoes, etc. She assured me that they would be able to get me a bed for the room, as it was empty, and anything else I would need.

When I hung up the phone, I exhaled. Finally, God is getting me out of this place.

Opportunity to Celebrate

Obviously, we should all celebrate the roof over our heads and the nourishment we receive no matter how it is viewed by economic or social standards. Yet, how can you "celebrate" blessings if you are homeless, hungry, unemployed, and cannot provide for your family? How, as a citizen or community leader, have you honored the value in all individuals regardless of their economic status or living situation? I celebrate by giving praise to God for providing for my needs and then share that praise with others as I do with this blog.

Share your story on our official Sights n Sounds Blog.