7
Street roots
Jan. 21, 2011
Getting back on your feet, with support
BY SAM AL-JONDI
blowing from every direction. It was raining
and because the wind kept changing
o one was born to say, “I want to be
direction, it was very hard to find a dry spot
homeless when I grow-up.” It is an
where one could put a sleeping bag or
experience that does not appear on
blanket. A group of us gathered under the
anyone’s radar screen. When you have Broadway Bridge and we each found a dry
reached adulthood: You have a job, a wife
spot where we could lay our heads. There
and a mortgage. Everything is hunky-dori
were four of us.
and is going according to plan.
A short time later a woman on a bike
Then any number of things can happefi. 1 made her way to us. She put her bedding
Your job gets outsourced to China or India
down and lay down on her blankets. She had
o r any number of other places on earth
no tarp..Everyone fell asleep, cold, listening
where labor can be obtained cheaper. After
to rain and wind whipping up around the
all, the corporation that we work for is out
bridge. Like I said, the wind kept changing
to make a profit, so if need be, that might
direction. When I awoke again, I uncovered
mean shipping your job overseas. If this
my head from the tarp and sleeping bag-to
happens, it can all start to fall apart. You
see the woman getting up. She was literally
lose your mortgage, the bank takes your
soaking wet and shivering. She boarded her
house and in the process, you lose your wife bike and le ft I looked at the sky and
and family. Then, for many, they end up out
thought, “what is wrong with you?”
on the streets.
I woke later that morning to a man
Of course, there are many reasons for
kicking my feet demanding to see some I.D. .
people ending up on the streets, but the
It was a police officer that had driven his
results are the same. You find yourself
car under a portion of the bridge. He took
walking around - feeling like the world is
each of our I.D. cards. I feared what he
closing in on you. You see no hope on the
might do. My heart raced. He took our
horizon. You forget what to even hope for.
names and gave us a warning, but said next
Somehow you can’t help blaming yourself-
time we would be arrested for trespassing.
and believing it’s your fault You believe you
Something inside of me felt like a boxer
can’t escape i t You know you must take
down on my knees. All I could hear was the
responsibility for yourself. This is the
voice of my coach who’s mouth barely
psychological drama you find yourself living
reaches the platform, yelling at me, “Get
in, right beside your physical need for
up. Get up, you bum. You can win. You can
shelter and food. Some people simply give
get out of this. Get up and fight”
up and resort to drugs o r other things to
For me, my coaches in this circumstance
cope. Others are able to hold on and search
are people like Israel Bayer, Joanne Zuhl,
for that roadmap to living again.
Kreeg Peoples at Street Roots, the people
Not all the homeless are good and not all
of the Northwest Pilot Project and Rebecca,
them are bad, but none of them deserve to
Jason, Jessica and the children who get up
suffer and die on th e streets. A lot of them
a t 5 a.m. to go to Blanchet House to serve
are vets who put their life on the line to
the homeless. I hear their voices saying,
protect this country, and its way of life,
“Get up. You can do this. F ight” They are
ultimately, protecting the haves sitting in
the voice of that coach who belived in me
their mansions.
and helped me win.
I have experienced homelessness. My
I am not out of this nightmare yet, but I
own set of circumstances put me there, and
am on my fe e t It is indeed the American
I want to talk about some of my
spirit and the great hearts of the people
experiences.
and services I mention that are making the
One cold night recently, the wind was
difference.
C O N T R IB U T IN G V E N D O R
H
S a m Al-Jondi is a Street
Roots Vendor
Ocean
Michael Vance
Spew forth your relentless power
Come crashing over these buildings
drown these freeways and overpasses
leave not one courthouse or police car
behind when the tide retreats.
Let the high rises sink to the deepest abyss.
I’ll be on my lifeboat popping the bubbles
as they surface with an American flag
pole in my hands and a shit eating
grin on my face. We’re starting
this mother fucker over! Amen.
Untitled
sonia i. french
Oldies, classic rock,
playing on the FM
shaking memories loose
I can't turn down the volume on my
past
It screams decibels over the sound
of my future
Two year old E m m ett
Quigley stuffs dollar
bills into the Panera
Cares Cafe donation
box as his aunt,
Julieanne Quigley
reads the mission
statem ent o f the
shared-responsibility
restaurant. The
Hollywood Panera has
become Panera Cares
Cafe, a nonprofit
business that offers
suggested donations
fo r goods. I f people
can’t afford to pay,
they can pay less, or
nothing a t all.
PHO TO BY KEN HAW KINS