Stigma & chagrin

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Much of society ends up treating the marginalized outdoor people differently in ways that are, intentionally or not, dehumanizing and sometimes even darkly comical.  Our culture dictates that there can not be enough collective will and inspiration to find solutions that outweigh the costs; how can the average citizen, not to mention those who live tangled in safety nets, be expected to understand the intractable economic inequalities and social injustices this breeds? 

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Most self-respecting homeless folks in the San Fernando Valley know about the generous feasts offered at St. Nicholas Episcopal Church in Encino. Photography is not allowed at the Tuesday night dinners, I learned from a tall, deep-voiced gentleman who sidled over to me with the muted warning. Minutes later a young, fit man with slicked black hair, matching black clothes and a plastic-coated identification badge pinned to his pocket approached me with the demeanor of a no-nonsense bodyguard.  Without a greeting, I was told to delete whatever photographs I had taken. With some impatience he immediately offered to delete them himself. Instead, like an idiot photographer I told him I knew how to operate my equipment, and showed him the few randomly composed snapshots I had taken of the crowded room. He was about to repeat his order when I told him why I was there. His tune changed quickly upon learning that I had come mainly to introduce myself to the pastor and learn about the dinners. He seemed as skeptical as he was apologetic when telling me that he had thought I was one of the “clients.” I imagine he had been watching me mill around the crowded dining room, chatting, maybe acting a bit too comfortable. When, as sometimes happens, I’ve been mistaken for a member of the homeless community, I find it disconcertingly humanizing. Orders to delete my photographs ceased.

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Attention turned to Shane, in his 40′s a playful, lunkish Bill Murray kind of guy I met at a community breakfast at the North Valley Caring Services months earlier. We had a jolly reunion under the circumstances, until cold water was thrown on it when Shane himself was admonished, even though this was several minutes since he had used his own cellphone camera to make a selfie of us. The friendly Polish-American with the bull neck and shoulders didn’t take kindly to what seemed at the moment an unnecessarily strict rule. He snapped back, keeping himself in check though fuming, and for a moment could not be placated. “It’s OK,” I offered to the guard in our mutual confusion, “he’s my friend.” As though my credibility overrode Shane’s violation of the no-photography rule.

The guard, or whatever his official role is, was only reacting to the stresses that come with experience and knowing that Shane was just one of many in the room of 200+ experiencing emotional trauma and other issues, some bubbling under the surface, some on full display. The room was loud, conversations flowing freely, as men and women enjoyed a warm meal and a few hours indoors. Keeping the lid on is likely part of the job description, resulting in the occasional heavy-handed rebuke or warning … One can begin to understand why such a large percentage of homeless people prefer life outdoors to shelter systems and other institutional oversights. I compartmentalize the sadness of remembering Nancy, who when returning to meet us at a church breakfast where we were working on portraits and interviews last summer, met a harsh rebuke. Entering a side hall from the dining area, the aging, still proud southern former debutante was humiliated after being scolded for entering a section of the building that was off-limits. Weeping, she complained about being treated like “retarded kindergartners.” Goes with the territory sometimes, to be filed under tough love.

In an effort to mollify Shane and diffuse the situation, our guard leant in and apologized. Like a finger snap Shane was on his feet going for a hug. Life is  better these days, he told me. Turns out he has found employment again as a waiter, something he had talked about enthusiastically months earlier. He’s met Wayne Gretzky at his Malibu café, and later texted a selfie he took with a game Cindy Crawford. Still homeless. 

Listen to an interview with Shane, from August 2016.

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