People survive. Though it may be a much more complex concept than we think, survival happens. It happens in a myriad of nuanced ways. Needy people find food, clothing, and shelter in random ways. Take a walk through an area you normally drive through and see what shows up. If your survival depended upon it, the fear or stigma of bending down to pick up something discarded fades away. We see the consequences of survival all around us. Walk foe a mile and then make a list. Tell me what you see. Put what you find on that list.
I succinctly recall one of my college professors lectures on Social Darwinism. His thesis was that the concept was bogus because with human beings the Darwinian notion of "survival of the fittest" doesn't apply. It's not just the fittest who survive, some people who are far from the upper echelon of the fittest, will survive. "They are not the fittest," he said. "But nevertheless they survive. They are fit enough to survive. Maybe barely...but they survive.
We see these folks everyday. They are in your town...the dystopic version of your town. One of the common crises we all face in this culture is that the army of homeless in both urban and rural areas is advancing. It's advancing because it seems to be growing. The growth is not only in size but also in visibility.
In my home town, Portland, Oregon, the bloom is off the "Rose City." Like many urban centers one has only to find their way to the closest freeway, look under or around the overpasses or on/off ramps to find tents that spring up like mushrooms. The larger population centers have the larger tent camps. In my town they spring up along public walking and hiking paths that wind their way from the river that bisects the city all the way to the base of the national forest and mountain range that looks down on the changing metropolis below.
My specific community is currently debating the creation of a homeless village that would see about 15-20 folks living in small houses, the tiny ones currently so popular, clustered on a patch of green that has been provided by a Christian church that owns the property. Community meetings have been boisterous, if not contentious. The proposed village is half a block from a daycare and two blocks from an elementary school. That fact, along with all the other common notions and stereotypes that people have about the homeless is enough to set opinions flying. Nothing has been decided thus far, but transparency seems to be lacking because some people think a decision has been made while others are working to bring a lawsuit.
One of the things I've noticed from these community meetings is that the advocates for the homeless village don't especially like the term homeless. They prefer "houseless." I get it. There is a affordable housing crisis in Portland, and the terms used make a difference. But I've been thinking about these terms. In the Great Depression of the 1930s, Woody Guthrie, the great folk interpreter sang:
I ain't got no home I'm just a ramblin' round,
Just a wanderin" worker, and I go from town to town,
The po-lice make it hard, wherever I may go,
And I ain't got no home in this world any more.
If you replace the word home with house, you miss the point of the song. Home is more than a house. So, is it possible to have no house but have a home?
I succinctly recall one of my college professors lectures on Social Darwinism. His thesis was that the concept was bogus because with human beings the Darwinian notion of "survival of the fittest" doesn't apply. It's not just the fittest who survive, some people who are far from the upper echelon of the fittest, will survive. "They are not the fittest," he said. "But nevertheless they survive. They are fit enough to survive. Maybe barely...but they survive.
We see these folks everyday. They are in your town...the dystopic version of your town. One of the common crises we all face in this culture is that the army of homeless in both urban and rural areas is advancing. It's advancing because it seems to be growing. The growth is not only in size but also in visibility.
In my home town, Portland, Oregon, the bloom is off the "Rose City." Like many urban centers one has only to find their way to the closest freeway, look under or around the overpasses or on/off ramps to find tents that spring up like mushrooms. The larger population centers have the larger tent camps. In my town they spring up along public walking and hiking paths that wind their way from the river that bisects the city all the way to the base of the national forest and mountain range that looks down on the changing metropolis below.
My specific community is currently debating the creation of a homeless village that would see about 15-20 folks living in small houses, the tiny ones currently so popular, clustered on a patch of green that has been provided by a Christian church that owns the property. Community meetings have been boisterous, if not contentious. The proposed village is half a block from a daycare and two blocks from an elementary school. That fact, along with all the other common notions and stereotypes that people have about the homeless is enough to set opinions flying. Nothing has been decided thus far, but transparency seems to be lacking because some people think a decision has been made while others are working to bring a lawsuit.
One of the things I've noticed from these community meetings is that the advocates for the homeless village don't especially like the term homeless. They prefer "houseless." I get it. There is a affordable housing crisis in Portland, and the terms used make a difference. But I've been thinking about these terms. In the Great Depression of the 1930s, Woody Guthrie, the great folk interpreter sang:
I ain't got no home I'm just a ramblin' round,
Just a wanderin" worker, and I go from town to town,
The po-lice make it hard, wherever I may go,
And I ain't got no home in this world any more.
If you replace the word home with house, you miss the point of the song. Home is more than a house. So, is it possible to have no house but have a home?
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