Picture this: you are sprawled out on a hard, damp floor, your body close to shutting down. Too tired to move, too scared to sleep, too cold to stay in one place. Knowing you are at constant increased risk of hypothermia, schizophrenia, heart disease, infectious diseases and even physical and sexual violence. You are disgusted by your own smell, frustrated at your situation and angry at the world for putting you in this position. You need to look like you need help, to appease the average middle-class do-gooder, but you want to preserve some self-dignity, some pride. You are embarrassed to beg, but you have no other choice.

 

You want a job, but look at your condition, you want a friend but nobody will talk to you. You see asking a shelter to house you as a sign of failure. You are not a failure. People might think you are, but you are not. Although you might have made a few bad decisions, you had an unfair amount of bad luck in your life. But nobody sees that, they see the stained clothing, the bloodshot eyes, the shaky fingers and assume you are an addict. They see you as a rabid dog. In truth, stained clothing is far from a surprise, considering the living conditions of some street homeless people (those who live on the street with nowhere to sleep at night). As for bloodshot eyes and shakiness, these are symptoms of sleep deprivation. To make this situation worse, you might even have a disability, you probably had a traumatic childhood and you may well be homeless due to escaping domestic abuse. Imagine living this life, day after day, month after month, perhaps even year after year.

 

Now back to the reality of your life. The chances are that you are reading this from the warmth of your home, worrying about something other than when your next meal will come. It is all too easy for you to ignore this, and do just as I have done in the past: turn away as you walk past a street homeless person, too embarrassed at your own privilege to look at them. You soon leave behind this fleeting encounter as you are absorbed in thoughts of your own life, forgetting that the person you ignored cannot move past their situation. They need help. You probably also justify your actions on the basis that the street homeless person would only ‘spend it on drugs’.

 

A word that has recently caught my attention is ‘sonder’. It is the profound feeling of realising that everyone, including strangers passing in the street, has a life as complex as one’s own, which they are constantly living despite one's personal lack of awareness of it. This is particularly pertinent when it comes to street homeless people. We often look down on them, seeing them as undeserving or addicts, when they most likely came from unstable backgrounds. In England, between January and March 2019, 6,000 people became homeless due to domestic abuse; one eighth of the total number of homeless people. That person living on the street, whom you turned away from, could be one of many to have had the courage to flee from domestic abuse. Unfortunately, finding themselves in extreme poverty, without a home. Homeless people have a life as intricate as ours. They have their own story to tell, and yet we push them away without listening. They wish to be happy, just like the rest of us.

 

My school recently organised a sleep-out to raise money for ‘New Hope’ (a charity based in Watford that offers support to the homeless). This was an event where pupils across different years had the opportunity of sleeping outside throughout the night. A fellow pupil, Noar Zabergja, described it as ‘a humbling opportunity that put into perspective the everyday challenges of sleeping rough.’ I agree wholeheartedly. However, lasting through one night was trivial when compared to what homeless people have to suffer on the streets, night after night, rain, sleet or snow. If you would like to support my school in its effort to raise money for ‘New Hope’ then feel free to donate to the JustGiving page:

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/mtssleepout2022

 

This article is not intended to pressure you into giving, but I hope I have instilled sonder in you. I hope that after reading this, you remember not to judge homeless people, or anyone for that matter. I hope that you realise, in twenty years-time, if the cards are against you, it could be you, sprawled out on a hard, damp floor. Your body close to shutting down.