What a day! And it’s only middle afternoon. As per usual for a Friday, over the noon-hour, Judy and I joined other 350 members, demonstrating against climate change on a major intersection in downtown Kingston. We handed out pamphlets, held signs and answered questions. It’s always a well-spent hour, invigorating and encouraging for me.
New topic – same day.
Judy and I share our house with three others, none of which could afford the usual rent for a room. We live this way knowing that we are benefited as much as the others, that all grow best with lives that are shared. We have one ‘spare’ bedroom, kept for visitors or guests, rarely occupied.
There are about 300 people in Kingston living ‘rough’, as they say, mainly in tent encampments around the city. The largest one is a twenty-minute walk from our house. The city has been in a quandary about it for some years now. It only gets worse. An edict from City Hall, three days ago, was to require every homeless person to pack up their stuff and move out of the encampment each morning. They were permitted to come back in the evening, but could only stay for the night. Every day they would have to make the complete change.
The stupidity of this ruling didn’t escape the attention of others and so, for the past three days, volunteers have protested with signs and presence. Every day, those sent to enforce the questionable ruling backed down. So far, no one has been forced to pack up. Talking to others in the 350 gathering, two of those people were wanting to go to join in the other protest. Judy and I offered them a ride and I stayed at the encampment to lend my voice and time. What an education.
In the brief time of one hour, two heart-wrenching events occurred. The first was when two people from the animal control services came and took away an older man’s dog. They had waited until he had gone in the main building for a bit. When he returned, he found that his only companion had been ‘rescued’ for its own good.
What irony! It isn’t acceptable for a dog to live rough, even if well fed and much loved, but it’s OK for a human to barely survive. In our messed-up society, we treat our pets better than each other. We assume that the dog is better off in a million-dollar cage than with a loving person in a tent.
I wasn’t aware of what was happening until it was over. What a missed chance! The video would have gone viral. I won’t soon forget the anguish, rage and frustration of the poor man who just lost his only companion. How will they ever be reunited? What good did it accomplish? What misguided person would have made it happen? This shows our societal errors on a multitude of levels. We may be not ‘scooping’ children as much as before, but we’re hardly learned anything.
Event two:
There were about a dozen ‘outside’ people there, holding banners and signs, so those driving or walking by would be aware of what was happening. We had been brought out coffee, pizza and cupcakes by those who supported the action. Often some of those in the encampment would walk by, asking if they might have some of the food, that was just sitting there. Of course, we always told them to help themselves. It was miserable weather, just above freezing, windy with a bit of occasional snow or rain.
A woman, about 40, came by for a bite, clearly very drugged up on something, hardly able to stand. A man of about the same age was also there, smoking something in a pipe.
(It’s easy to see why drugs are so common among the homeless. If I had been in their situation, with so little control over my life, without the support and help to afford any housing, having to choose between living in a shelter with more controls and limitations than are found in prisons, and living rough, If I had the opportunity to escape through drugs of any kind, I would have taken it. Just to be happy for a few hours. Why not?)
The young man, even though ‘high’, consoled the woman and talked to her for a while, helping her to remain standing. Then, suddenly, he was on the ground, unresponsive. The woman he had been helping, sitting by his head, unable to do anything. We were only a dozen feet away and one of us, a Queens student, I think, dashed into the building to get help. In a few minutes there were half-a-dozen gathered around the man, giving assistance. In another five minutes the ambulance arrived. For the first five, things looked bad. You could see it on the faces of the professionals. Luckily, something changed because he was up and walking, about twenty minutes later. He’ll be fine, until some other questionable drug comes his way, a possibility that will, of course, eventually happen, giving our stupid drug policy.
Why are we so resistant to learning from reality? Why do we pay more to house homeless pets than we do people? Why have we become increasingly stingy toward ourselves, supporting those in need now, less than half of what we did fourty years ago? ‘Disability’ now offers about $540 per month for housing. What are they to do? It’s between the disrespectful and controlling shelters, or independence in the rough.
So, here we are with an extra bedroom. But we’re supposed to be a shared house, with everyone having a say in what happens. I could just get someone from the street to move in; I own the house. But that would betray the trust of the other house-mates. I’ll have to tread softly, but I just must do what I can to get at least one more person out of that situation. I can’t let this day’s experience go to waste.
Anthony, trying to grow each day.
