Carol Samson's WRIT 1133 Class

Project Homeless Connect Reflection
Meagan Brown

I did not know what to expect when I saw K and J walking up the steps to the Ritchie Center in the bright sunlight, holding on tight to their jackets and bags and each others' hands.

K was short, her shoulders were hunched and when she smiled and shook my hand I could see that all that was left of her upper row of teeth were the two front ones. Her hair was misplaced, but it looked clean, and there were no signs of gray yet, though the wrinkles in her face, especially around her eyes gave me a clue to her age. The look in her eyes as she met me was hopeful and nervous and hesitant. She was determined and willing to do whatever it took to get herself a house of her own.

J was a typical four-year-old boy, holding tight to what he knew, his grandma, and hiding from the looks of strangers. He ducked behind her leg when I smiled at him. He was small and his eyes were full of wonder and confusion. I could tell he wasnt sure what was going on.

We walked inside and she readily gave her coat to the people at coat check.

Yes, thats a great idea,. Then Ill have free hands to use.

She only let go of Js hand for a second to hand over the coat and then made sure he was holding on again before we started walking. We sat down and filled out the questionnaire that asked about her life and her situation at the moment.
Ks life was one of struggle and hardship, test after test of courage and proof of her determination and love for her family.
K has been homeless for ten years now. She has bounced around from place to place, each time thinking that it would be the last. She is currently living with her daughter and her two grandchildren who she adores more than anything. Before that she was moving around, staying with different honies. She told me of their substance abuse, the way each and every one of them had promised to change, had told her they would shape up and stop.

The only one that stopped drinking was me, she said with a look of pride in her eyes. Now all I have to do is stop smoking.

Her granddaughter hides her cigarettes from her, hoping that her attempts will help her grandma stop.

The last place she stayed before taking refuge with her daughter was the worst, she says. He was always drinking and hitting her; it was a bad situation, and she had to get out of it. She had only just gotten her divorce papers to go through.
She had stayed with her husband long enough she told me. There was no easy way to leave him; and the paper work only made it worse, but it had to be done. There was no way she could go back to him.

I asked her what she wanted to make sure she did at the fair, which booths she wanted to hit first. She said housing. All she really needed was housing. She could stay with her daughter until the end of the month if she watched the kids during the day; but after that, she needed to find a place of her own. Her daughters fianc wanted her out.

She also needed another birth certificate. She had left her last honeys house in a hurry and forgotten it. There was no way she could go back she said.

So we went to the housing area and got a ticket number. 115. They were on 32.

Its going to be awhile, Why dont we go see what else we can do for you?

A haircut would be great.

We put her name on the list for a haircut and talked some more. I sat next to J and played games with him. She sat on my other side and sang his praises.

His mom asked which kid I wanted to bring and I said J right away. Such a good boy, his sister on the other hand shes quite a handful.

J told me he could do cartwheels and showed me how good he was. I marveled at him and for the rest of the day it was cartwheel after cartwheel all the way down the hallway, out into the grass, back around into Gates Field House. That little boy did not walk, he cartwheeled from that point on. While we were waiting for a haircut, he spotted the pool and ran over to the window to watch the swimmers. His grandma went on and on about what a little fish he was. She told stories about how hard it was to get him out of the bathtub and how all he ever wanted to do was go swimming. He stood watching the swimmers in amazement, entranced by the size of the pool.

Be careful, warned K, once he gets comfortable with you, you wont be able to shut him up.

She sat down to get her hair cut and J, and I went to see what number they were on for housing. 57. It was going to be a long day.

We played games and talked about his favorite animals and hobbies and how to spell cat while we waited for his grandma to get a haircut. He told me about how much he loved school and how he couldnt wait to go back next year. He bragged about how he will be going to a school for the gifted.

Grandma finally finished her haircut and told me she needed to get something to eat. Her sugar was getting low, and she is diabetic. I was in awe of how brave this woman was. Despite everything she had gone through and dealt with, she was still so incredibly strong.

We picked up sandwich bags, turkey for all of us, and sat outside on the grass. She asked questions about my life, where I am from, what I am studying; and she told me stories about her youth, how she wished some things were different, but how grateful she was for her family. When she looked at J, I could see the love she had for him pouring out. She would do anything for her family.

J wanted to roll down the hill, so I went over with him and grandma took that chance to smoke a cigarette. He fell in love with the hill.

I just love spinning!

J arent you getting dizzy? Grandma called.

No I love it!

He rolled and rolled and rolled until grandma wanted to go back in. I scooped him up and spun him around.

Spin me more! Spin me more! He shouted.

I put him down and he swaggered around and then went right into a cartwheel. Grandma and I looked at each other and laughed. I could see how much joy this little boy brought her.

We checked on housing again. 75.

We got her a check for a birth certificate and some free patches to help her stop smoking. We walked back inside towards the booths while J cartwheeled along side of us. At the booth where they were giving away shoes and hats and other goods, J got a bright blue hat and flip flops to match. The woman working there asked what size shoes grandma wanted. She just said she wanted another small pair for her granddaughter. Nothing for her.

I have to be fair with them, she told me. I have to look out for my babies.

J discovered that there were candy bars in the bag and looked at his grandma with pleading eyes.

Its my fault, I have such a sweet tooth; Ive spoiled them as well. His mother is a health nut so I have to sneak them candy.

I laughed at how much this was like my grandma, always saving the last piece of cake for me, or putting aside an extra chocolate because we shared the same sweet tooth.

Our number was finally almost up for housing, so I sat and played with J while grandma talked to the people. Twenty minutes later she was done. They had given her a few options of places to check out, and she seemed satisfied that she would find somewhere to live. She had explained to me that she received $250 a month from Medicaid for her diabetes and bipolar disorder. My respect for this woman continued to grow throughout the day; and by the time I was walking them to the bus, I was sad to see them go. I gave little J a huge hug and told him to take care of his grandma.

You love your grandma, dont you? I asked.

Shes the best grandma ever! He said.

Ks eyes welled up, and as they boarded the bus, J ran over to the window and waved at me until they were out of sight.
I walked home satisfied with myself and my day. I knew that she would make it, and I knew that her determination would be passed on to her kids and her grandchildren and that she would be an inspiration to them all.

I felt proud for having contributed to the Project Homeless Connect. I only wished that more people had taken advantage of the opportunities that were hosted here. I was talking to K about why she thought that people didnt come, and she gave me an honest answer.

There are people who just couldnt get here today, and there are a lot more people who just decided to hit the bottle instead.

I was saddened at the sight of a lot of the people that I saw and by the thought that so many of them only needed one lucky break to get their lives back on track, and instead they just kept getting beat down. All they needed was an opportunity that they could take advantage of. I suppose, though, after each no you hear, it gets easier and easier to give up. With the right mindset and the capability to persevere, anything is possible; but some people just cannot get the break that they need. Thats what Project Homeless helps with, and I think that it gave a lot of people the break that they needed.

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