Unprovoked and Unimaginable

This is a story from the national wire about an increase in the number of homeless people who are becoming victims of violence.

After meeting the people in Pottstown who are struggling with homelessness, I can't imagine one of them being treated like this.

There are no reports of anything like this happening in Pottstown, but with the senseless violence that has begun to permeate all communities it is sadly imaginable that something like this could happen close to home.

The writer has done a great job of weaving a personal story into a statistical one.
Give this a read and them comment on the exposure and vulnerability of the homeless.

Taking it a step farther

This Temple University reporter really got down and dirty with his reporting.
And I'm not talking figuratively either.
Click here to read about his experiences on the streets of Philly.

Whatta ya think?

Hey folks - that counter at the bottom of this Web page says about 50 of you have stopped by... but no one has commented.

I can only assume this is because you are unsure about how to post, not because you don't have an opinion on the matter.

A mini-tutorial - the little "comments" link at the bottom of each post (which is currently at 0 for all) is where you click to add your commentary.

So, what do you think about the state of homeless in your neck of the woods? What are your personal stories or impressions of Pottstown's homeless? What did you think of the "Without a Roof " series?

Hope to talk with you soon!

Q and A

It's tough meeting new people, especially if the people you are meeting are going to be counting on you to pull through should something tricky come up.
This is the concern most volunteers have when thinking about staying overnight at the homeless shelter.
Most of the responsibilities include spoonin' up soup and coffee talk, however there are always emergencies that could arise.
The folks over at The Ministries at Main Street realize there are some concerns about working with the homeless, so they've compiled a list of questions (and answers)one might have before volunteering.
You can find it here.

"Blurring the lines between us and them"*

I no longer refer to the homeless as "them."
After four weeks learning about Pottstown's homeless population;
After four weeks of meeting them and seeing where they sleep at night;
After four weeks of coming to understand that their interests, their problems and their desires are as varied as our own, I have come to the conclusion that "them" is us.
In the fleeting months of winter I researched Pottstown's homeless and wrote a series called "Without A Roof," which ran in The Mercury between March 4 and 6.
During this project, which is better characterized as an experience, I asked myself a lot of questions simply because they were "them" and not us.
"Should I refrain from dampening my thumb with my tongue to turn the page on my reporter's notebook?"
"Should I wash my hands more during this project?"
"Should I have someone walk me to my car when I stay at the shelter past midnight?"
"Should I not go traipsing into the woods to see the tents and tenements?"
Maybe.
But maybe we should all wash our hands more and stick them in our mouths less. Maybe we should all be more cautious at night and most importantly, maybe we should all walk in the woods — and in someone else's shoes.
Shoes that are worn through, second hand, the wrong size, fit and feel, because that's what the homeless wear.
I guess one of the good things about walking in someone else's shoes is that you get to peel them off, which is what I tried to do at the end of every night I was researching the "Without A Roof" project.
I'd roll into my driveway around 1 a.m., too tired to shower, even though my mind told me I was covered in filth. Filth that was amplified by pre-conceived notions. I'd hit the pillow with relief, only to find myself face to face with the homeless again.
Tossing around in the comfort of my sheets I dreamt of sitting across the table with one. On another night, I rescued another fellow from a storm. One night, my dreams had me fleeing the eagle-eye of a man who obviously would have preferred that I mind my own business.
Outside of my dream-life, one such man, a tangle-haired fixture on High Street, always intimidated me. I would see him while on errands or walks during my lunch break and even simple requests from him, like for the time or a quarter, felt like a violation of my comfort level.
Before I started the homelessness series, I wasn't sure this man was homeless, but instinct told me I would be stepping into his territory with this project.
He was, and I did.
He wasn't interested in participating in the project, though I didn't actually ask him. His reluctance was communicated through the way he would grill me from across the room or leave the table when I sat down for a cup of coffee and conversation at the shelter.
There finally came a point during my last night at the shelter when I realized you don't have to have a roof to have guests, and that's exactly what I was. Who was I to rudely avoid one of my hosts?
I approached the man who had repelled me and said, "I'm Sarah, and I'm writing a story on homelessness in Pottstown for The Mercury." I knew, he knew, who I was and why I was there, but we hadn't been properly introduced yet, and frankly I didn't have much more to offer. "Is there anything you'd like to add?" I asked.
I expected him to laugh, point out my naiveté or tell me to get lost.
He smiled and politely told me he wished to keep to his own but he accepted my reason for being there.
The homeless I met may want Pottstown to accept their reasons for hanging out on High Street, chilling' out in a diner or finding solstice in the woods and the library, but I can't.
In communities the world over there are places where the homeless can go to be warm, clean and comforted.
There is no such place in Pottstown.
I cannot accept the burden of many falling on the few.
And I cannot accept that the urgency of this issue will just fade away as the temperature rises.
What happens when the temps go so high that their skin begins to redden and peel and their showerless bodies begin to stink?
Is this any better than a Code Blue night?
Is this any condition in which to interview for a job?
If Pottstown doesn't decide to care for its own, then the plight of the homeless will worsen and the strain on their advocates will compound, leading to inevitable collapse.
Kork Moyer and his volunteers from the Ministries at Main Street cannot maintain this pace. They cannot maintain this level of caring for people whose needs are both basic and overwhelming; not without some support from the community which, for better or worse, the homeless call home.
Support comes in many forms.
Maybe you can volunteer to sit in the shelter one night a week, or a month.
Maybe you can talk to your church about hosting the shelter.
Or maybe you can do what I now do; make eye-contact with those living on the street. Smile and talk to them and make them feel accepted in this community.
Because after all, "they" are part of our community and deserve as much acceptance as you or I.

*(This kick-off post originally appeared in The Mercury on Sunday, March 18 as a print column.)