Not all “homeless” are “drunk, “junkies” or “prostitutes”!

Observations & corrections to your stereotypical labels.

Human is the only label that applies.

When people first discover that I am ‘homeless’ they make some very stark presumptions about the person I am.

There is a story that society tells itself about how humans become homeless. There is a lengthy list of stereotypical values they believe can be automatically applied along with the ‘homeless’ label. They are often applied inaccurately, with no regard for individual morality, personality or truth.

Societies stereotyping makes no apologies for ignoring the vast spectrum of individual experiences that are the very foundations of humanity itself. Sometimes societal assumptions can have devastating consequences (both physically and mentally) for the individual they are incorrectly placed on.

I’ve personally experienced this on many occasions over the past two years. I’ve had many of those stereotypical tags and the abuse that accompanies them, applied to me. But the people that apply them don’t even know me — I’ve never seen them before! Their labels are untruthful. Personally I find them very offensive. As a result, I face unnecessary insult from them daily.

What follows is a personal story of one awful night, where I had numerous incorrect tags applied to me by one stranger.

One awful night

I’m sitting outside, downtown one extremely hot summer night. Causing no harm to anyone, just relieving myself of the suffocation of the tent. I’m enjoying the cooler night air that wafts its way round this part of town. Minding my own business, reading a book under the available street light, as my torch has once again eaten all the batteries. There’s the usual bustle of a busy town on a Friday night, but it has been quiet, until now.

There’s a man staggering down the street. He moves with that habitual wobble of a fellow who’s had too many pints. And there’s a distinctive bottle of alcoholic beverage in his hand. I’m naming him Kicker because as I found out, somewhat painfully, that’s what he like to do to ‘homeless’ people.

Kicker is shouting abuse. Every variation on an abusive word is streaming from his relatively revolting mouth. He is getting ruder and louder and more obnoxious as he gets closer. It’s becoming problematic to ignore him, especially as I’ve just realized, his abuse is directed at me. Concentration on my book becomes impossible. I’m sensing an air of trouble, so I put it away in my bag.

Kicker stumbles over my legs, kicking my shins as he goes. He barely able to stand, but continues with his torrent of insult. My legs aching where his just bruised up my shins.

His words mostly incoherent, because of his drunken slurring. But I catch enough of them to understand his base impressions of me. ‘’oh, you. “Pretty Homeless bird’…… You want me to give you monnnnnney? You can go buy your drugs and boo ooze! I’ll do you a ten’rrr, you can get a bag of ‘brown’ or ‘white’ for your next ‘fix’! You f… kn junkie!’’

I’m remaining calm, despite the pain in my legs, and my very obvious urge to thump him. I restrain myself, as I’m not a violent person. It’s not like I haven’t come across this scenario before. But I don’t want to encourage him to stay. I address Kicker as calmly as possible, informing him that I’m not interested in anything he just suggested. I’ve asked him to go away — my request dismissed — his persistent on hanging around. I try ignoring, but now he’s getting in my face with his abuse.

.

‘If I give you a fiv’rr…. will you suck my c…. ck?’’ The words come slurring out of his filthy drunken mouth. His hand and elbow striking me on the head as he stumbles with enthusiasm. ‘’Or maybe….. you’d like to come home with me? I’ve got a house with a nice gigantic bed. We could have a ‘good time’!

I (not so politely) refuse his offer, telling him ‘’I’m not that desperate.’’ You can see and smell the man has already urinated himself. His clothes look like they haven’t been changed for at least a month. His hands and face are filthy. I’m getting annoyed! I’m afraid I let my satirical side takeover at this point. “I already have a man, thanks. When I want I’ll go have a ‘good time’ with him!’’

The man looks puzzled. It’s obvious he thinks his the catch of the century. “AHH, but does he have a house? Does he pay you for your time?” Kicker is now scrambling through his pockets. Presumably his expecting to find his wallet in there, somewhere. When he can’t find it, he starts accusing me of stealing it.

Again a torrent of misconstrued abuse comes tumbling out of his mouth. He’s calling me all the names under the sun. Every insulting stereotype he can think of, whilst continuing to stumble around, kicking me as he goes.

I’m about to stand up, get ready for the final blow. I know it’s coming soon. I’m not taking it sitting down. I really don’t like being forced into this situation. Because when one bad egg starts the ball rolling, you can guarantee — it’s the homeless person who will end up taking the fall. For what? Defending themselves (as if we don’t already have enough to contend with!)

Thankfully, the bouncers of the local nightclub turn up just in the nick of time. They recognize me and know I’m not like that. They also recognize the man from ‘the house with the gigantic bed’., Kicker’s abuse has become somewhat of a regular occurrence of late. So, after a bit of a tussle, they move him off the square — his barred!

Resulting Thoughts

I started out enjoying a quiet read of my book, under an available street light. I came with one ‘label’ — ‘Human’ with the accurate added stereotype of ‘suffocating in a tent’.

I leave in bewilderment. How did I acquire so many labels from one ‘drunk’ ‘abusive’ ‘man’, who doesn’t even know me?

I’ll accept being labelled ‘homeless’. It’s somehow easier for people to accept and understand. Although, I have a home — it is a tent. So, the precise term for me would be ‘houseless’, (or considering my personal aspiration ‘boatless’).

Sometimes through forced circumstances, you could, I suppose label me a ‘beggar’. Although I never actually ask for money. But when all other sources of income fail you, and you havnt eaten for three or four days on the trot — what else can you do. More empathetic people who know my circumstances will help me out. I am grateful for their considerate donations, whether they are monitory, food or clothing. Everything helps me to survive an otherwise cruel world.

Not a single drop of alcohol has passed my lips in at least eighteen months. The last drink I had was a one off, on a cold Christmas night, bought for me by a friend. I have never even considered resorting to the ‘drugs’ the Kicker referred to. So, I resent the implied labels of ‘alcoholic’ or ‘addict’ and especially ‘junkie’.

I will never, even on my dying day, resort to selling my body. I have a loving man. He is my soul mate. I’m with him for eternity. I would never consider betraying him like that. So sorry to disappoint — the ‘prostitute’ label is off the table.

Lastly, I’ve been labelled as a ‘thief’. I have never in my life even considered steeling a thing. I resent the implication that I would regard it an option. I’m not worried about what other people have. As long as I have what I need to survive, I’m happy. I will work when given the opportunity to do so, to earn my way in the world.

Just because I’m ‘houseless’ doesn’t mean that I’ve lost all sense of moral values or integrity. No one ever gets to take that away from me.

Conclusion

My scene with Kicker is just one example of the harassment ‘homeless’ people receive daily. As it goes it’s a mild incident. My partner has in the past, had his neck slashed by a knife, for just sitting on the street — simply because he had nowhere else to go. Others have received beatings, rapes and other criminal and violent offences perpetrated upon them. Often these offences are ignored by any official of justice. All because they do not have four brick walls to live inside.

Stereotypical labelling is a route to injustice. They authorize people to become dehumanized by their current situation. They define limited explanations as to an individuals’ truth. And they misguidingly authorize others to justify their misbehaviours.

OK, so maybe Kicker had an awful day at work or home. He certainly had a skinful, trying to drown his sorrows. But was it his place to take it out on me — a stranger — whom to be frank — already had enough on her plate!

I, prefer to take a more empirical approach to people I don’t yet know. I’ll introduce myself. I’ll ask questions regarding their personality and situation. I don’t like to judge on first impressions. Unless — you come at me with a meat cleaver, or other obvious forms of attack! Then, of course, I am going to defend myself.

Outcome

When I was at school, it was often imparted to me, that what distinguishes the human species from others on this planet — was our diversity (given through individual experience), our ability to show kindness, and our aptitude for empathy. In the 21st century, many will simply disregard these as human qualities. They’d much rather package everybody up into a box. Apply a label, and its stereotypical values, and send them off to a land of never-ending Lemony Snicket events.

Are we seeing an evolutionary degeneration — Are we devolving as a species?

If so, where will it lead us as a species?

let me know your thoughts?

oXo Rhoda