A Man and His Dog at Home

Today is April 17, 2012. While driving down the road yesterday, I saw a homeless man and his little dog sitting on the side of the road. The man held a sign asking passerbys for help. The dog just sat there - hoping someone would stop to help his master. Homeless people and their signs have become so common place that I wonder how many non-homeless folks even see them. Do we look right through them? Do we turn and look away so we don't have to see them? Have we all become so callused that we can easily pretend like homeless men, women, children and their pets don't exist? Is it that we are callused or is it really a matter of fear? Maybe we - the non-homeless population - are afraid that if we look at a homeless person - really take the time to see them - that their homelessness - their dirtiness - their shame - their poverty - will rub off on us. Like homelessness is a disease one catches or something. Or maybe we are afraid that if we see the homeless, we'll be forced to do something about it. . . or worse. . .admit we can't. If I pretend you don't exist, then I'm not required to do anything, right? Yes, I believe this is the more likely scenario. People look away - refusing to see the homeless - because they fear having to do something about it. The fear, I think, is more about not knowing what to do then it is about having to do something. What is the solution? How do we as a society "fix" homelessness? Politicians, church leaders, social workers, advocates - many, many knowledgable - trained - people - have tried to find a solution, and failed. And if they can't fix the problem, how on earth can I? So I look away. I don't have an answer. I don't have a solution. I don't like to be reminded of my shortcomings, so I refuse to see you, Mr. Homeless Person. I want to sleep well at night in my big comfy bed in my toasty warm house - without guilt. And how can I do that if I see you? Hey! Homeless People! You hit a nerve in me! But not because I am afraid of you. I'm not. I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of my inability to find a solution. I'm afraid of not having control. I'm afraid of the unknown. It's easier to look away - pretend you don't exist - then it is to face my own fears. I fear I have failed you, Mr. Homeless Person. In fact, I know I have. I am so incredibly sorry. What can I do to fix this wrong? Maybe a place to start is on the curb, by your side, like your little dog. . . fully seeing you.