A familiar corner This is the Emergency Shelter in my city. If it’s full, there are plenty of places to hide outside. During the day, the bricks, glass, and metal become sinks.The day I took this photo, the center manager came out asking about my motives. I explained I was a previous resident working on this project. She brightened, asked me about my story and invited me to come back to share my “success story” with current residents. I wonder if she knows she could be a resident one day.
I thought about what I might say to any of the women in the shelter today. I am not a success story. I’m just one story that includes a time I had no home. I graduated from college, got married, bought a house, attempted suicide, gave two children for adoption, wrote poetry, painted a small bathroom.
I remember trying to explain to someone that I wasn’t “homeless,” I was just staying in the Emergency Shelter until I could work things out. People don’t realize how long dysfunction has to be in place. It can go on a long f***ing time before the place is on fire. By then approaching the fire is so tough. Can you get this if you haven’t lived it?