I mentioned that on July 17, 2016, I prayed fervently to be released from years of demeaning homelessness in the San Francisco Bay Area. I also reported that ten days later, on July 27, 2016, I stepped off a bus in Moscow, Idaho, and have been inside ever since. So how did this remarkable change of circumstance come to pass?
I often compared homelessness to a turnstile at a BART station. I was stuck in the turnstile, as its wheels rolled me rapidly around and around. Eventually, I would be spewed out of the turnstile, on one side of the other: either inside or out.
I completely understood why people didn’t want to have me over, because I probably wouldn’t want me over either. But at the same time, I asked them, where is compassion? Who has a heart? Can’t somebody bend for a little while? When is anybody going to realize that I’m not going to be able to solve any of my “boundary issues” or exacerbations of ADHD or Bipolar Disorder if I don’t find that somebody loves me enough to make a simple sacrifice — and, yet, nobody will.
I may never be homeless again. But that doesn't mean I have to forsake all the things that were good about homelessness — or at least about homelessness in Berkeley.
Before becoming homeless, you should know that people will not treat you as a full human being with needs, rights and sensibilities akin to those of the rest of the human race.
The recent passage of SB 5599 — a Washington Senate bill that supports minors who need shelter and are seeking protected healthcare services — awaits Governor Jay Inslee’s signature.