Walking West on Jefferson in the Late Afternoon...

... sucks.

Generally, I think of all the homeless service centers as being close together. But then, I'm usually speeding in my car.

Walking is such a different matter. The homeless youth are pretty savvy about public transportation, but today is Saturday, and that means less options. The overall upshot is a lot of walking. Now, I am a healthy guy. I walk to work every day. I hike. I run from time to time. But damn. All this walking generally sucks.

But the worst of it is walking west on Jefferson in the late afternoon. A few reasons:

1.) We are walking straight into the sun.

We have been outside most of the day, and whatever minor sunburns we may have had are beginning to mature. I also feel dried out. Baked.

2.) Zero shade.

There is a tall building for half a block, but after that, the empty dirt lots and chain link fences to the left provide scant shelter from the sun. A few of us put in the effort to walk zigzag paths to get what little shade can be had from the occasional palm tree. The rest of us are too tired to chase shade.

3.) Carrying stuff.

The backpack is getting heavy by this point in the day. Gabe has discussed the danger of "having" when one is homeless. Having things means carrying, protecting, and worrying about things. At the moment, I wish I had nothing to carry, but that would also mean having nothing to sleep under.

Unfortunately, I must continues down Jefferson. There isn't a better street to walk down, and it can't be at a different time. So we walk.

Walking with Matt

Matt is our youngest retreatant. As such, his take on the difficulties of being homeless are different that others. The physical aspect isn't his chief concern. His main worry:

Boredom.

He generally finds the waiting for things to happen maddening and suggests that it is the lack of stimulation that would get to him first. He also cites unreliable access to food and uncertainty about sleeping arrangements as hard to deal with.



The lesson here? There are various types of fitness, and as such, the trials of deprivation play out differently. Matt crafts his particular story about homelessness because of his embodied immunity to particular discomforts. At his age, his body is made out of rubber bands shot full of adrenaline. The down side of his metabolic fervor is an increased need for lots of food and an impatience that makes him more susceptible to parts of the mental game.

Point is, we all wear down differently. There isn't a universal story to homelessness. There isn't a single way it sucks. Some of us are harder to wear, some are harder to tear, but it gets to everyone eventually.

Walking to Andre House

After our presentation on basic needs, some writing, and a few games, we leave for the Andre House to get dinner. Andre House is a serves food and provides other services to the community. We have lost a few people to prior engagements, and are down to six people.



Even though it isn't that hot, my skin is dry. Unfortunately, the shade is lacking on Seventh Avenue.

Walking with Jackie

Jackie is becoming an expert on the difference between ground and pavement, and the implications they have for sleeping. Frankly, Jackie is my hero. When the idea of a street retreat was presented during the first Community Outreach meeting, her response was candid: "I'm terrified. I'm not young like the rest of you and I'm diabetic, so sleeping on the streets scares me. But these kids mean so much to me, I'll do it."

She is very conscientious, and every week or so she would have some concern about being a burden on the group and suggest that maybe she shouldn't go. I would tell her she was free to not come, but I insisted she was no trouble. Each time she would look at me discerningly, trying to detect insincerity. But I meant it every time, and every time she would say, "Ok, well, I'm glad. I really want to go, but I don't want to be trouble."

I'm glad she believed me, because her presence is invaluable. Not only is she wonderful and wise, she is more willing to participate and more enthusiastic than many of the younger counterparts. She is motivated by an aunt-like love for the youth, and her genuineness shows.

Youth House or Bust

Up from the nap, people start rustling around for food. We discover most of the food has already been eaten. Fortunately, today is Saturday, and the Youth House is open.



We would be able to walk straight north if not for a fence blocking easy access. A few of us would be up for fence vaulting, but a few of us are not. After some consideration, we decide that walking a block out of our way is better than having to ascend the bridge again. So we head west, cross the tracks, and then turn toward the Youth House.

Walking to the Bathroom

Bathrooms are hard to come by out on the street. One would think that with all the businesses around going to the bathroom would be routine. The problem is, businesses don't really want homeless people hanging around.

So we occupy different space. Often it is underused, industrial space. Other options include the nooks and crannies created by urban superstructure or parks. None of these spaces are known for their excellent restroom facilities. As we walk to the bathroom, we discuss the hospitality and rudeness we have faced thus far on the retreat.

Walking

Homeless doesn't always mean car-less. Plenty of people have lived out of their cars. I spent six months as a vehicle-using homeless person. But most of the youth we serve are jobless, and jobless usually means car-less.

So we walk.

Our first trek takes us from the youth house down on McKinley up to the Phoenix Library. It's only about a mile, and in the lovely weather of an Arizonan April evening, the walk is upbeat, fun.