It's hard to know what to do. Societal problems are so big and complex, addressing them feels insurmountable.
This week there was a homeless guy outside the main entrance to my apartment building. The entrance is on the side of a long building, and the apartment building is in the middle of a line of apartments and town-homes. The situation was unusual. He was rolling on the ground, and upon asking if he needed any help, I saw that he was crying. I asked what was bothering him. “It’s all so hard, they want me to handle everything.”, he said in a choked voice. I didn’t ask him who “they” were, but commiserated, “That sucks.”
I noticed a maintenance man standing inside, behind the glass door. I acknowledged the him; he was motioning to get away from the man laying on the ground. I did not think his warning was baseless, but I also didn’t feel threatened at that moment and it was a long way to escape if I wanted to. I can’t run, and anyway I feel that it’s better to try and talk your way out of a situation, address it head on, than to run. I get that from my father I think, the ability to calmly address a situation head on rather than run away. Sometimes I think it is to my detriment, but in situations like these, it has always worked.
He very sincerely thanked me for asking what was wrong. Like he hadn’t had many people interested in hearing him. I just listened, asked questions based on things he said. He was talking about aliens and being a covert-ops agent. I didn’t try to use any kind of logic, I just accepted what he was telling me. I put myself in his mindset, his frame of reference. He went from being in pain and sad, to smiling and standing up, putting on his shirt. I noticed a hunting knife laying on the ground when he picked up his shirt. He wasn’t moving in a threatening way though so still concerned, and thinking about the maintenance man’s motioned warning, I wasn’t too worried.
He started talking about how he was living on the streets. An idea about offering my place for him to stay briefly flickered in my mind like a light-bulb that just as quickly was discarded. I’m not strong enough so I didn’t offer anything. I was certain that he would have taken advantage and gone a step further, pushed the boundaries of what I was willing to give.
I’m not sure I did anything other than empowering him for a brief moment. Making him feel heard.
The cops had been called. I heard the sirens, didn’t see the cars. Six officers walked up the alley, while he and I chatted. One of them approached him, keeping his distance, as I was. The man said hello to the officer and was almost instantly engaged, his attention fully towards the array of men facing him. They asked him to come sit down on a parking curb stop, he complied. It was obvious he’d had previous interactions with the police.
One of the policemen approached me, asking who I was to the man, asking what we had been talking about. “I live here, I don’t know him.” and “We were just chatting. He’s obviously troubled.” I said, redundantly.
The officer told me that they had been called because the man had defaced a church door down the street, and threatened some people. They were looking for him when they got the call from my apartment building. The officer looked at the now exposed knife on the ground and asked if I’d noticed it. I nodded, “I noticed when he put his shirt on.”
The man was saying, as he sat on the parking curb stop, that he needed help because “they” were targeting him.
I felt I wasn’t needed and he was fully engaged with the officers and didn’t look like he was thinking about our conversation in the slightest. You don’t want to ignore a police officer who is actively focused on you.
So I waved goodbye to the man, who didn’t take his eyes off of the officer, and walked up the alley.
I don’t know if talking helped him, I think it may have, to made him feel heard. So, I can’t save the world but I can do some small things that make me feel better about my place and position. *
Sometimes the best thing is to listen. That’s the most human thing you can do.
* I feel like this story is almost clout chasing, and perhaps it is. Look at me, I’m so kind, I listen to homeless people. Or maybe it’s about an experience I want to share. I haven’t come to a conclusion. What is the line between telling stories, and doing things for clout?
I personally don't think you're going for 'clout' writing this. I am glad that you took the time to listen to the person and have them feel heard. I don't think it happens much.