Stop Treating People Like Crap

See the person behind the person

I lived in a very shitty, rough part of town, in a crappy apartment. To me it was a palace, I had lived homeless only 6 months before.

On my first night there I slept great feeling my life was really coming together. In the morning I woke to a siren and police and ambulance lights. A person had been shot outside the apartment — I had not heard a thing. What the hell!

I had found my way into university and this was the only place I could afford.

The prostitute

Each evening on my way back from the university I would walk down the last few streets to my apartment.

Various female prostitutes would be at places in the last few blocks. Once they realized I was not looking for their company they would leave me alone and ignore me.

One specific lady had a tendency to hang out by the apartment front door. She would say hello as I went by. I would politely answer back.

One day she asked about the heavy backpack I was wearing each day. I shared I went to university. She said to keep working my ass off.

She would come and go through the fall, but always stop to say a few kind words and ask how school was going. Those often were the only kind words I would hear in a day.

On a cold night as fall deepened, I took her down a cup of tea. Her expression of gratitude was so genuine. She left the cup on the step for the next morning.

Suddenly she no longer was there. I have always hoped she found a way to rise; I always feared the worst.

The world would have seen her as a crime, loath, and been disgusted with her. I imagine so many people treated her like crap. I saw her as the kind person she was, I saw her humanity, she saw a kid trying to go to school. She deserved more.

My buddy

Growing up poor, I had a great friend I hung out with. He was fearless, reckless and his family was loaded. That meant he always had money to buy fast food, which was awesome.

He would end up stealing cars, drinking to excess, and stealing more cars. He even stole the small town Justice of the Peace’s vehicle. At the time it was an epic story. He would tell a story of getting arrested by one young officer that was so scared. He talked the officer through the ordeal and how to deal with him and rated him on his arrest. He shared that the officer thanked him for making it so easy on one of his first solo arrests.

The thing about buddy, he was incredibly charismatic and brilliant. I would connect with a teacher of ours years later. He would share that I had no idea how truly brilliant my friend was. Apparently, he had the highest IQ the teacher had ever taught — well into the genius level.

From the time he was 13, Buddy would spend more years in jail than out of jail. He looked rough and could fight like nothing you had seen. You would have seen him as such a drag on society and useless. However growing up getting beaten daily and hearing your sister get raped does not make a healthy human, even if you are a genius.

Buddy was my friend. I would challenge you to find someone who was more kind than him. He took care of me during some tough times as a kid. He would connect as an adult when he was out — he got me drunk after my first divorce.

He died before he was 40, he did not deserve to be treated like crap, he deserved better.

The drug addict

Harry would come to my university classes. In one calculus class, there were over 300 people in the lecture hall. Harry looked like crap and stood out at the best of times, however, he would beg me to go to Math class as he called it. I could not say no, it was one of his few joys in life.

Harry would be on and off the booze and soft drugs. He had first overcome heroin when he was 15. Occasionally when he had money he would do cocaine, but after the heroin, he considered everything soft drugs. He got kicked out of school in grade 9 and never went back.

In one particular math class, we were learning how to solve for something like the 6th root of a number. The prof put the question on the board and started to show us how to solve the problem, without a calculator. Harry leaned over and said 4.3 put that down. I did not, he insisted more loudly. I told him to shut up so we would not get caught with him in class.

Thirty minutes later the prof arrived at the answer at 4.32. Harry glared at me. He would also go on to get the next three questions in an instant, all within a decimal place.

Harry got ignored most days and looked at like a loser to others. He was mathematically gifted and worked in kitchens. He deserved better.

Everyone

• Bruce in the wheelchair on the corner, missing two legs.
• The taxi cab driver with two doctorates.
• My admin assistant repeatedly got asked if she speaks English even though she held three university degrees, was born in a non-English speaking country, and corrected the grammar and spelling of the executive team.

I see these people on the fringes, or immediately in front of us, and how people see the cover and not the person.

They all deserve better. I would wish they would not be treated like crap!

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