They're not Invisible but They May as Well Be

I have begun ignoring homeless people. When I lived in Chapel Hill I had a policy of giving them one dollar once, and buying meals for the homeless population on occasion. Here, however, I was so overwhelmed with the sheer number of people who did not have a home or chose to live on the streets I have started to become one of those people that ignores them. I get requests for money on a daily basis (when I barely have any myself) and at first I would tell them no, or offer them dinner, or do whatever to get out of it. Now I have a scowl I shoot them if they're being particularly harassing, but for the most part I just ignore them. I step over their living areas and around their signs and pets and keep going.

The way homeless people set up here is fascinating. They generally claim their own areas. There is a couple around the corner from me, a tiny girl and who I guess must be a friend or boyfriend who sit out on the steps outside the closed gallery on Spring between Mercer and Broadway every day. She's been there for a little over a month now. She spends the day reading or writing or drawing- she has charcoals and a sketchbook and she seems to be very good. I look at her when I think she can't see me and wonder what happened to her. Every day she drags this giant suitcase and bag full of everything she owns, probably and sets up her sign and a coffee cup and waits. The sign says:

I am Homeless. Every day is a STRUGGLE. Anything you can give will be a HUGE HELP.

Every homeless person has a sign. Hers, for some reason, affects me, probably because it's true. Everyday is a struggle. I never see her beg. She just sits and waits. People give her cigarettes and magazines and snack foods. Her face has become very dirty and I wonder when the last time she bathed was. Another interesting point, while we're on homeless people areas, is that they will often leave their things in a location for a half-day or several hours and no one messes with it. Books and clothes and everythign else. There seems to be some sort of rule regarding what you can and can't do and this is a can't do. You can steal from others, but not from other homeless people.

I love the fact that they have their own laws and rules, even as they scoot around what we call normal, sleeping in parks after hours and under steps and stealing food and anything else they can get their hands on. At least, that's a general assumption and honestly one I would be following right along with were I homeless. But here they don't. There are certain rules to follow, and those include leaving other people's stuff alone. I find it impressive in a place where people get stabbed over IPods. I like that there are codes to follow here.

On a more clever note, here are some Homeless signs I've encountered.

"I just want a beer. Why Lie?' (Times Square)
"Yeah, Me too." (guy beside beer man)
"if you don't have any change, you could at least hand over a cigarette." (girl on Sixth Ave)
"God is watching you." (Washington Square Park)
"I promise I'll pay you back." (Washington Square Park)
"No job, no money, no ticket to my honey." (Seventh Ave and 21st st)
"My parents kicked me out" (looked like a college kid)

Almost every homeless person here has a routine or a sign or something they're trying to do to impress upon us that our change would be well spent. There were two women on 3rd Street the other day singing acappella in the cold, show tunes ringing out around the bar crowd. I've discovered a whole other culture here in a city that boasts some of the richest people in the world, and also, as I have seen first hand, some of the poorest.