Homelessness/ 96th street on a saturday night

This problem of homelessness in New York City always gives me pause and food for thought. Individual bag lady or shopping cart people , panhandlers, and runaway teens from Hick town America are only some of the more visible types of homeless. Like many people, I feel sympathy from a comfortable physical barrier. When one has to smell a crackhead's funk on a subway car , it has a tendency to make you hope that this encounter will be over with as soon as possible. How many of us have heard the , "I'm a veteran,, burned out of my apartment, and H.I.V positive stories and said to ourselves "After I give them this change, I hope they don't stand in front of me until the next stop"? Homelessness in your face is uncomfortable, disturbing, and sad. The majority of folks have their brief encounters with it, but don't think much about it after the moment is over. This is not an indictment on peoples reactions. It is a complex issue to ponder as we fight through for survival in our own lives. Occasionally even Hollywood and the Godhead/television have presented characters that find themselves shit out of luck. Of course these characters are usually sages who impart wisdom from the shopping cart. Or they turn out to be some legendary figure from the past who gets resurrected because of some child's relationship to him/her (usually him). We rarely have to think about the cold nights slept on subway cars, dehumanizing interactions with society, fear, shelter conditions , deteriorating health, stark poverty, mental illness,or drug addiction that accompany this life condition.Although I have done work in shelters using role paying and facilitation to teach health information , I recently found myself guilty of reacting in an inappropriate way during an incident with homeless man.
My Girlfriend and I were waiting for a train at 96th and Broadway. As is frequent on a Saturday night in NYC, the trains were rerouted. We had started out on a express train that had been making local stops before 96th . Anybody from NYC can tell you that trying to decipher what is going on from those warbled announcements over the train or train station's p.a systems is like trying to listen to a symphony underwater. When we got off signs were posted that explained what you needed to do to get to your destination. At this the 96th street stop, a homeless man in a wheelchair was tearing down one of the signs. I asked him "What are you doing?" Then I said" My man, people need to see those signs, chill." Well, that unleashed the fury of mental instability as he proceeded to curse me out. Instead of letting it go, I said" You can say what you want, but what's up with tearing down the signs?" He rolled up and down the station ranting about how people need to mind their business. Of course my Girlfriend is appalled by my actions. When the train finally rolls into the station , I know that this incident can end at last. I have never been lucky like that. He rolls his wheelchair into the same car as us. He then asks if anybody has a pen. I nudge my lady and whisper"Give him a pen please, maybe he'll go away." She gave it to me and I handed it to him. He snatched it from me, turned the sign over, and wrote I'm homeless and hungry on it. My lady gave me a "shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself look. I felt bad , but I mean during all of this he never paused from cussing at me or about me. I gave him a dollar to show no hard feelings. When he stood up to snatch it, we both noticed at the same time that he had a putrid knot the size of a grapefruit sticking out of his knee. My girl just gave me the gas face as he limped through the car giving his Vietnam Vet speech. All the while he pointed me out to everyone in the car. When he got back to his wheelchair , he asked her "Is he aways this nosy?" She nodded. He made some kind of muttered threat to me. The train came to his stop( a known drug spot I might add) he stumbled to his wheelchair and rolled off into the night.
I don't really care what those people on the train thought of me. I do care what my girl thinks. Although my experiences with other single homeless adults leads me to the conclusion that he is off to see the wizard of crack. Is that my business? Whatever gets him through the night of cold, fear, pain, and possible voices in his head is his business. This homeless thing is so complex.

Stay tuned - My next blog is on family homeless and the Family shelters. I have worked with this on so many levels
Peace
Daniel