Imagine for a moment walking in for a job interview.

 

What do you see? Most likely you're well dressed, you're well groomed and rehearsing your previous experiences.

 

     Now..... Imagine this....

 

You haven't showered in three days, you're drenched in sweat, your hair has lice, your breath stinks and you're starving. The last meal you ate was almost a day ago, it was half a hamburger somebody threw out and you were lucky enough to pick out from the garbage. You're not rehearsing your skills or previous experience because when you were 20 years old, you were charged with a felony while experiencing a manic episode thanks to Schizophrenia, which has for the past five years gone undiagnosed while you sat in jail.

 

The manager has a soft spot in his heart for the homeless and decides to afford you an interview, knowing full well that because you don't own a cell phone or home phone, the interview must take place upon the moment you turn in the application.

 

Lets assume he chooses to ignore the box for "felony" as well as your horrendous hygiene and lack of skills or experience.

 

You sit down and the manager begins his questioning, in a professional matter. When suddenly you hear someone tell you "PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE" you belch out mid-interview "NO". The man responds "PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE OR HE'll EAT YOUR INSIDES OUT". "PUNCH HIM, NOW! PUNCH HIM!". You start to panic. You scream and blurt out "HE WON'T EAT ME! LEAVE ME ALONE!" You cause a scene. Customers are disturbed as they begin walking out.  You stand up, swinging your fists at the man who's telling you to hit the interviewer. The manager, runs to his office, dialing 911.

 

We can imagine what happens next.

 

Ever wonder how people become homeless? Better yet, why they stay homeless? Mental disorders often play a large role. Couple this with a lack of access to treatment for them and it becomes far less surprising that walking throughout Pinallas County we encounter homeless individuals. Unfortunately, I was unable to attend the Civic Engagement Fair at USFSP; however, I have done work with a Hillsbourough County non-profit called Northside Mental Health. The company works with mentally disabled individuals, often homeless and with criminal backgrounds, to aquire steady work and assimilate into the normal population.

 

As the famous adage states "Feed a man a fish and he will eat for a day, but teach a man to fish and he will never starve". Northside Mental Health strives to achieve this by providing individuals with interviewing skills, coping skills, transportation, shelter, mental treatment, and shelter as a means to help these individuals lead a normal and productive life.

 

I believe dispensing the grant to a similar Pinellas County Non-Profit would be a smart decision because it helps provide a permanent solution.

 

**

Vincent House

Recently, I rediscovered a place I visited two years ago while I was still in school at St. Leo. Started by a father, whose daughter suffered from being bipolar, the organization has grown to a tremendous success.  More will be to Come on the organization. Check them out----> Vincent House

 

see also:  Habitat For Humanity

 

Isolation

 

I've lived in St Petersburg for just a few months.  I live downtown and see the homeless daily.  Never have I seen the number of homeless concentrated in an area like I have here.  The longer I live here, what strikes me is the social isolation.  I don't see groups.  Rarely do I see folks in pairs.  Mostly, I see them alone.  Sometimes they read.  Sometimes they're asleep.  Mostly, they're staring into space or watching the world go by.  I wonder what their inner dialog is like.  What are they thinking about on any given moment?  That in itself must be a daunting mental challenge.  It reminds me of a scene from the film, "The Fisher King" where a homeless man sees the girl of his dreams in a train station and wants to meet her - but can't. 

 

 

I tried to talk to a homeless man once to thank him.  It's a strange story.  I ran out of poop bags and my dog had just ... well, you get the idea.  Having a dog in my life, I feel very responsible for all matters of "doghood".  Not having poop bags is just poor manners in my opinion.  But there I was, sans poop bag.  A homeless man was within earshot and me feeling embarrassed, said aloud - I can't believe I forgot to bring a poop bag.  The homeless man looked at his bags.  He had two Publix plastic shopping bags, double-bagged and stuffed to overflowing.  He grabbed one of his bags and removed the outer bag and gave it to me so I could clean up after my dog.  The bag was riddled with holes so I might as well picked it up with my bare hands.  But that wasn't what struck me.  The man has few worldly possessions.  Yet, he spared something for me - without me asking.

 

I don't walk the dog with a wallet on me normally, so all I could offer was humble gratitude in return.  The moment stayed with me.  And a few weeks later, I saw the man in the park again.  This time I did have a wallet on me.  I walked the perimeter of the park three times rehearsing what I might say to him.  Finally, I walked over to him and said, "You probably don't remember me, but you gave me a plastic bag a couple weeks ago when I forgot to bring a poop bag for my dog."  He eyed me with suspicion and said he remembered.  "I just wanted to say thank you," I said as I stuck out my hand and gave him a few bucks.  He took the money and said, "Okay".  Nothing more.  No verbal clues or body language to engage further.  So I just said have a nice day and kept walking.

 

Social isolation can wear on a person.  Homelessness can do the same.  So as much as someone needs nourishment in their bellies, their minds need it as well.  A job, a meal, and some therapy.  These are the things that might set someone on a path of dignity. ~ Jay Boda

 

A few weeks ago, while walking down Central Avenue  I handed a homeless man some change, when I peered back over my shoulder, I watched him drop the fifty cents into an expired parking meter where a car was parked..... 

 

In response to Jay's above statement. When I wrote this I was not particularly inclined to sharing my own personal experiences with being homeless back in December. After several negative factors converged forcing me to leave home in a substantial amount of debt, I found myself living in my car floating from super wal-mart parking lot to Shopping center parking lot. Having to drop out of College and bring what had been a professional career as a triathlete to an end became tremendously difficult to deal with. With no marketable skills outside of being an athlete, it was virtually impossible to find work. Furthermore, its difficult to maintain an approachable appearance when your needing to shower outside by the beach on the public showers meant for cleaning sand off your feet. DESPITE the challenges, the most difficult I discovered was the feelings of complete abandonment and Isolation, very quickly one finds it ever more and more difficult to interact with people. As you start to isolate from mainstream society you begin to resent it and yes... like in the movies, you begin to imagine, even convince yourself that you are loosing your mind.  I can quite easily understand how people whom suddenly find themselves in this precarious situation will develop social anxieties and psychological disorders. Furthermore this is why I support the idea of Vincent House because it provides "Community" and an ease into mainstream society while teaching marketable skills to be self sufficient. - Javier

 

--

Javier - once again, your personal account is compelling and worthwhile for your essay.  You've stated an issue in the community (homelessness and mental illness) and defined a specific symptom (isolation).  In your next draft, tie them together and direct a specific action for the reader - to learn more, volunteer, donate money, or whatever you feel is useful.  Your searing honesty cuts through the BS and really puts a face on the issue.  That more than anything moves people to act.  I wouldn't water it down.  Don't get too bogged down on grammar/spelling early on.  Let your words flow and edit later for grammar.  When you feel you're at your final draft, let me know and I'll put fresh eyes on it for grammar/spelling  ~ Jay

 

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This page is A HAPPENING...keep dialoguing, always write in the edit window, in the body of the "page" - ShareRiff

 

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DOOD!  Where's the 12" ultra-remix version of your awesome essay?  I wanna comment! ~ Boda

 

^ sorry bud, I got caught up with some travel over the weekend... Just kinda gonna throw some thoughts out though....

 

I've never been one to judge. People, I've always believed do things for a reason. Most often those reasons are beyond our comprehension.

 

So when I found myself sitting in a Jail cell over a year ago listening to a short man tell me about how he'd served 15 years in Alabama for attempted murder I wasn't surprised by how numb or nonjudgmental I felt. "He was pickin on my sister and he wouldn't quit". My response was a mere "Oh?".

 

It was hard to speak in the cell. " You notice how all our words reverberate off these damn walls? It's driving me nuts "  He frowned; "Thats the point. They do it on purpose"

 

I believed him.

 

Me: "So what happened with your sister?"

Him: "It was bad luck, the cops pulled up right as I was stomping his face into the pavement, I didn't realize I had beaten 'em up that bad, his brain was spillin out onto the dirt".

Me: "That sucks"

 

I didn't know what he was in here for now, but I couldn't help looking at his scratched up and pricked arms, fresh wounds of course, I could tell he was still high.

 

Him: "Hey when you get out can you call my mom? And my job? I really don't wanna loose my job"

 

The other guy dove into the conversation "Your getting out tonight!?"

 

Me: "Yea, I had my bail set before coming in, they let me turn myself in at noon"

 

The other guy asked a similar question "I can't loose this job, can you call my work too and my landlord, I've paid rent 3 months ahead, can you see if he can bail me out?"

 

Me: "Yea, I certainly can."

 

Collectively we rehearsed the numbers, what I was to say and whom I was to talk to.

 

I laid on the floor, barefoot, they take your shoes and belt at the door, put one arm behind my head and drifted off in thought.....

 

It was April 19th, Just two days before one of the most important races of the year. St. Anthony's triathlon was one of the most stacked in the country and took place here in St. Petersurg.  I had a professional triathlete in my passenger seat. She'd flown in from abroad and I'd picked her up from the airport. I was in perhaps the best shape of my life, speeding down 275 to drop her off at her hotel room and still make it to my College's Athletic Banquet where I was due to receive two awards and address a large crowd as captain of the cross country team.

 

Phone on my lap, vibrated. I answered. "Cops came with a warrant today. They found stolen audio equipment. They want to speak with you, I already called an attorney, go get your stuff and stay away from the University". 

 

Few months ago...

 

 "Javi, buddy, I really can't pay text books bro, is there any way you can loan me 300 bucks, I swear, I'll pay you back in no time, I promise, i really really need the help" (help self before other)

 

Me: "Dude, not even a big deal"

 

The next day, a big grin on his face, 300 dollars in his hand...

 

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned into a couple months.... no money, but new shoes, new Ed Hardy shirts and expensive nights out with his girlfriend seemed pretty damn affordable.

 

So we struck a deal, his sound system, until he could pay me back, it was his idea.

 

It sat in my closet, never doubting he'd pay me, but he didn't, he reported the equipment stolen instead. He reported his equipment as well as some imaginary equipment that never existed. No signs of breaking and entering, no alarm went off because as he stated "I'd stolen that too"

 

I never knew investigators could lie when conducting investigations? My attorney sitting across his fancy desk, in that perfectly plush leather chair. "I'm sorry your friends threw you to the dogs Javier"

 

I remember that conversation with my best friend months after it was all over  "The investigator told me you couldn't have done it alone. He said that you told him I'd helped you take all the shit out of the car bro. You woulda done the same bro! C'mon my mother woulda killed me....... i mean your fine now... its all fine"

 

The days leading up to the pre-arranged arrest (turning myself in) seeing my recent ex-girlfriend of four years, our break up over a guy she'd regretted cheating with.  Asking her "I spent that night with you!" "The night it was reported stolen" "Leeann, I'm begging you, you know that night we watched a movie and fell asleep, I cooked for you!"

 

"Javi, I can't get involved." such a simple response that spoke more than anything she'd  collectively said to me in four years.

 

JAVIER. IS JAVIER IN THIS CELL.

 

" Yes sir, I'm right here"

 

Officer: "This way"

 

Short guy: " Don't forget man, please don't, I can't Loose my job"

 

Officer: "Hey guy! Shut up!"

 

I followed the cop, bare feet.

 

Finger printed, Mug shoted and asked a few simple questions about my physical and mental health, a surprisingly small set. 

 

They pointed me toward the phone area, confused I asked an officer where the phones were.

 

He mocked me: "here use my cell phone" outstretching his arm, phone in hand. Surprised I reached toward him, "thanks"

 

"HA what do you think this is a hotel?" snapping his arm back. I felt degraded then smirked as I turned around, it seemed ironic to me... Ironic that we were in the same place. Stuck behind the same walls and he'd have to come back every night.

 

I sat at the phones, no calls getting through, I waited. And waited, They started changing inmates into the orange. My bail was being processed. They sat staring at me not a single glimmer of envy...... I don't know that I could have been as much a man.

 

I tried talking to an old man, Wearing orange, he was barely coherent. But physically seemed healthy, no drugs. All his hair, all his teeth, no sores, healthy weight.

 

"He backed out of his drive way and hit a parked car. Then drove off"

 

I asked the guy, thats why he's here?

 

"yea, this system is just about money"

 

I looked back at the old man, he was so scared, so confused, constantly forgetting, he didn't remember any family, any phone numbers and I couldn't believe that with just two years of a psychology degree it was blatant to me that he had Alzheimer.

 

It was dark when I got into the elevator shaft, shoes on my feet, belt on my waist and nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep, no one to call anymore, only an empty car and a Wal-mart parking lot. - Javier

 

When I stood there, outside a jail, with nowhere to go, I felt baffled, in a sense I wished I could turn around and crawl back into the cell where at least you knew what to do. What I couldn't believe is how quickly, how swiftly people disregard you.

 

As Jay mentioned in Pay it Forward 5000 its everybody's responsiblity to push forward favors, at that moment, nobody was willing to pay it forward to me. As he also encourages finding a non-profit which does not pocket or salary their workers high wages, it reminds me of that moment standing in that parking lot, not knowing where to go, what to do and wishing I had just one person. I wished for COMMUNITY, a community to fall back on, one that was not existant to me at the moment, ultimatly... it takes ZERO dollars to create a community, it takes a collective peoples.  It takes a "paying it forward" mentality, that in turn will have a much greater and lasting impact than any amount of money. I looked back at the old man, he was so scared, so confused, constantly forgetting, he didn't remember any family, any phone numbers and I couldn't believe that with just two years of a psychology degree it was blatant to me that he had Alzheimer. When I look back at that moment I think what a lack of community in reference to this man was like, Perhaps he wondered why he was sitting in a jail, wondering what he'd done wrong, or simply, not understand where he was. - Javier

 

 

 

 

 

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