Sunday, January 25, 2015

Perspective From a 2 Hour Hobo





The youth from church do an activity each year called "Where's Waldo" where they get members of the congregation to dress up abnormally, go to a public place, and see if the youth working in groups can find the 'Waldos'.  
Of course I have no shame when it comes to costumes, so over the past 15 years off and on I have been asked to be a Waldo.  Not only am I confident enough to look like an idiot in public but I'm also extremely competitive and I take this thing probably way too seriously.  My goal is always NOT to be found and quietly get pissed when I do.  My goal this year was to be a dirty (literally) older man.  I had a newspaper that I would take to a bench, sit with my legs wide open, and wait for the wife to shop with the paper inches from my face which would force the youth to actually have to engage in conversation to get a good look at me.  Just that one act alone scares so many away.  Sad really.  Where's the creativity?  How about: "What time is it?"  "Whatcha reading?"  "Excuse me mister, can you direct me to Dairy Queen?"  I know for years we teach stranger danger, but come on now, you're teenagers, who cares about your safety?!?
Kidding.  But in all seriousness, the lack of ability to engage in conversation makes me want to teach a class about it.

This year an outside outlet mall was the selected public place.  I went early to scout my area where I would be for the night and cringed the second I started walking around.  There were only 4 other people (actual customers) walking around the complex.  I thought, "Oh, no.  This thing is going to be over in 10 minutes."  Time to improvise. Time to not only hide my identity, but to hide myself altogether.

There is a portion still under construction and I thought maybe I could pass as a construction worker on break- but the place was dead. No one would buy it.  So as I looked down at the broken sidewalk taped -off area I got an idea.  If the youth are uncomfortable approaching a stranger, how much more uncomfortable and awkward can I make it for them if they think I'm a homeless guy?  Light bulb.

I crammed most of the rest of my pizza down my throat and left a few bites in an open box.  Then I positioned myself in a sleeping position and for the next two hours laid on the concrete with my newspaper draped over me and pretended I was asleep.  I have to admit, it was brilliant and I was so excited to claim victory!




But as the night wore on, a deeper concern and more powerful message enlightened me.
I hardly watch the show "Undercover Boss," but I love the concept.  I've had similar, more simpler experiences just in my role as a school board member.  I've walked into a school site before and was treated horribly by the front office staff, but by the time I left, someone must have filled them in on who I was and immediately they were bending over backwards with kindness towards me.  At that point I was like, 'too late.'  I already saw and experienced how you really treat people.  Why do we let people's statuses and positions justify and dictate how well or bad we treat someone?

As I laid on the concrete that night with a newspaper covering half my face, I took notice of those who passed by.  There were those who noticed, but as fast as their eyes saw me, their glance diverted  to another direction.  I had parents who clung on to their children, pulling them into their bodies as if I was a monster who would hurt them.  But I think the one thing that disturbed me most were the ones who passed and pretended I wasn't there.  In a matter of 2 hours, I went from feeling devalued to a predator to worthless and then to feeling as though I didn't even exist.  2 hours.  I can't imagine how a person on the street would feel after weeks, months, or perhaps years.

I don't write this to persuade you to run and give every homeless person a hug or even engage in a long conversation, Obviously, safety is always a factor and we need to use good judgment, but I do want to remind us all that these are people, like us, who once had dreams. They had lives of their own where people did acknowledge them and through circumstances we'll never know, are brought to this point.  Sometimes we may engage in small chit chat, maybe we buy them something warm to drink on a cold night, maybe we spare change from time to time (without judging how they will spend it), maybe it's just a nod of our heads or a smile acknowledging that we 'see' them, or maybe it's just a silent prayer on their behalf. The lesson I learned from this experience is two fold really.  Not only can my actions help them feel of worth in that they haven't disappeared into non-existence, but it also speaks of my worth in evidence of how I treat others.  Once we turn off the caring and compassionate side of our hearts towards our fellow human beings and replace them with harsh judgments and assumptions- then sadly, we are the ones who've become worthless.
worth·less
ˈwərTHləs/
adjective
  1. having no real value or use.
    "that promise is worthless"

    • (of a person) having no good qualities; deserving contempt.


And, only one group legitimately found me.  :)

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1 comment:

Unknown said...

Great experience and thought provoking. Thank you.

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