When I Was Homeless

I don’t actually know this woman personally, but we’re connected, connected enough for me to find this post, and connected by enough shared humanity (of which she has too much and I not enough) for me to want to share this. And I am disconnected enough to feel guilty about sharing it, because it’s not my story, not one I could live and not one I could write. But I’m sharing it anyway because this is a story I want to keep for myself, and to give as well. I don’t know what else I can gove in return for it.
I hope you all read it.

Beyond the Barbed Wire

By Cat Jones

I'm all right now, but this is a story about where I've been recently. I’m all right now, but this is a story about where I’ve been recently.

People who have never been homeless don’t know shit about it. And the real problem is, they don’t know that they don’t know shit. The ignorance around this issue has real and painful consequences for people impacted by poverty. This point has been underlined to me recently, with a spate of incidents and conversations involving friends of mine whose normally compassionate natures were suddenly and inexplicably shrouded by ignorance, entitlement, and lack of understanding when it came to people who are homeless (not to mention the ridiculous spectacle of a couple of New York senators making asses of themselves by insisting we need them to limit the ability of food stamp recipients to buy “luxury items” with their SNAP benefits, as IF that were even a thing). I’ve been thinking about this a lot…

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