The concept of time

Posted by Carey Fuller in Uncategorized - (0 Comments)

The biggest realization for me

Has always been

The concept of time

Because it is friend and enemy

Depending on which way

Life decides to run

 

And no matter what words you craft

To describe

How you use yours or how I share mine

None of us can escape

That inevitable race

That is either to or from

Some imaginary place

We think we need to get to

 

I am not a rock since rocks cannot feel

The invisible war raging

Inside of me

But in spite of all this

I have come to see

Eventually

We must grow to let go

Of people, places or things

Getting in the way

Of our being what we need to be

 

But from what I’ve seen

Unfortunately

That is a lesson too many

Learn too late

And I can’t help but wonder which

Is the greater tragedy

Living in the past while

Waiting for the future

Or

Being afraid of what it means

To love who you have in your life

Today

A poem while watching my mother

Posted by Carey Fuller in Poetry - (0 Comments)

Pieces of Yesterday

Strange, this disconnect from what would otherwise be

Some kind of connection between you and me

See, I never thought the day would come

Where I would be standing here

Watching you sleep that sleep

That doesn’t know if there’ll be another tomorrow

But in the meantime

Sitting here in the quiet of dark

Old memories have sparked

Pieces of yesterday back into life

Childhood laughter, childhood tears

All those growing up fears

Are exactly where I left them

But for you I see

Uncertainty

And life simply offers no guarantees

On the time we have granted

We never seem to realize

How small some things are

Until the magnitude of a condition

Much bigger than we

Catches us off guard

And no matter how much

We wish to go back

There is no reset button

On life’s current path

And as the journeys end

Suddenly comes into view

I am looking into the future

For I am what remains of you

, , ,

These seeds

Posted by Carey Fuller in Uncategorized - (0 Comments)
White Eagle corn in my hand

White Eagle corn in my hand

Been busy working in the gardens lately as I’m pretty much in charge of 6 plots. In addition to growing food for those who can’t afford to, I also grow indigenous plants to save them from extinction or exploitation. I got in the mail the other day, some seeds I had been wanting because they were the kind my grandmother’s grew and holding them in my hands inspired another poem because when you hold in your hands a reflection of your people’s history, you have a responsibility to protect it.

 

These seeds

See them in my hand?

They look like little bits of sand

Because in the eyes of industrialized

Seeds of life don’t mean much

But these grains in my hand have travelled through time

Connecting me to my father’s passed

And I know my grandmothers don’t want me to forget

The DNA in my hands

 

Álenidohá, gágeyui, anadanehá

tsunigayálige iyulistaná atsásdá alenidohá

sgiwadáhilái owenásá

Life, love, giving

Ancestor’s light living

Calling me home

A people’s history wrapped

In a tiny package that

Keeps my connection to the past

Strong

An unexpected blessing

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (2 Comments)

Jeremy of Hinshaw's Honda of Auburn

 

This past Monday I had plans to do as much as I could in one of my garden plots  but the day had plans of its own! I had dropped Maggie off at school and was heading to Kent to meet a Facebook friend at Kona Kai’s coffee shop but just before I got there, the van’s engine light started to flash off and on. Soon after, it was rattling so I continued to a parking spot just outside of the coffee shop and popped the hood so that I could check the oil. It was a little low but I dreaded that oil wasn’t the problem. Not more than 2 weeks ago, I had just taken the van in to have it checked out because the engine light had come on but it wasn’t flashing. The mechanic had cleaned up some oil he had found splashed on a spark plug and replaced it. After he worked on the van that day, the engine light went off but I was advised that if that light came back on, I would need to take it to a dealership to have it checked again as it could mean a more serious problem was on the way.

After my meeting at Kona Kai’s, I decided to head towards Auburn to the Hinshaw’s Honda dealership even though I had no money to even do a diagnostic but I knew I had to get the van off the road because it was too risky to keep driving around with a flashing engine light. I parked outside the dealership’s building and just sat there wondering what and where Maggie and I were going to go if we lost our only shelter and transportation. Unless I had the money to fix the van, it would have to be parked somewhere until I did and there was no guarantee of how long it would take to earn enough money to pay for expensive repairs let alone get enough donations to help pay for everything! On top of that, the dread of getting a ticket for parking too long in the wrong place or getting the van towed was starting to kick in. While I was in the middle of thinking about all this, I saw this brother walk by with a sheet of paper in his hands but he stopped in his tracks and looked over at me. I had the door open so he asked if I needed help. I said “Oh, I’m just here to see about getting a diagnostic on what’s wrong with this van but am stressed about being stranded.” He said his name is Jeremy but if it looked as though I were to be stranded, to come find him inside the dealership and he would help me out. I nodded and Jeremy went his merry way back inside the building.

Well, doing what I do, I got on Twitter and Facebook and started talking about the van’s flashing engine light and my anxiety over what would happen next because in all honesty, I had no idea! I was planning in my head the steps I would have to take to find a safe place to be that night should worse come to worse. In about an hour and a half, enough donations had come in to pay for a diagnostic so I drove the car up to the dealership’s intake doors and walked in. I told the folks at the front desk what I suspected was happening from the last time I had to bring the van in to a mechanic and they quoted me a lower diagnostic fee than the first time I had come in. I gave them the keys to van then went and sat in a quiet corner of the lobby at a small desk that was conveniently located near an outlet so I used it to charge my phone. After an hour then 2 hours went by, I could feel a migraine coming on and I knew if they hadn’t come out after 30 minutes, something was really wrong and it was gonna be expensive to fix. I hadn’t eaten that day but I had no appetite and I was getting nauseous. That’s when Jeremy walked past me but this time he turned and sat in the chair in front of me. I knew I looked pretty haggard and that’s probably why he asked what was going on with the van.

Up until he asked that, I was holding it together but I started to cry as I talked telling him that the van was my only transportation and shelter and if we lost that, I had no idea where we were going to go or do. I had absolutely no money to fix anything! Jeremy smiled then gently asked me how many kids I had and if I was the owner of the van. I said I own the van outright and I don’t owe anything on it because it was donated to me. Jeremy kept telling me not to worry and that he was one of the managers there but he would do everything he could to help me. He had something to do but he would be right back. I just sat there staring at the wall going over and over in my head about what I had to do if it turns out nothing could be done. True to his word, Jeremy came back and asked a few questions about the van then told me he was going into the shop to see if the mechanics in there had a verdict. He then looked from side to side to see if any of his co-workers were nearby (which they weren’t) then said in a low tone, “Sis, listen, don’t worry, ok? I will help you. See, I knew there must’ve been a reason I kept getting this feeling to ask you how you were and I’m glad I did. I know what it’s like, when I lost my job a few years ago and was in school, I had to live out of my car so please, don’t worry. I promise I will do what I can to help you out. If I can get you into a new car with no money out of your pocket, would that be something you’d be interested in?” Well yeah! I didn’t have any other options! “Ok”, said Jeremy, “let me see what they say is going on with your van.”

Jeremy disappeared for a few minutes and while he was gone, I went into the women’s restroom to splash my face and let out a few sobs. Once I felt like I had regained my composure I went back to where I was sitting and sat down to wait some more. Jeremy finally came back and said it was going to be a bit longer as the mechanics were trying to figure out what was wrong with the Odyssey’s electrical system and a coil on the 6th cylinder but the bad news is that replacing those coils were expensive but they did go ahead and wash the van for me. This was definitely not the news I wanted to hear but had a feeling something big was going out on the van even though it only had 48,000 miles on it. Jeremy then said, “Come on and hang out with me for awhile, I want to show you something.” I followed Jeremy out into the lot where some new cars were and he let me drive around in one of them. Personally, I think he was just trying to lift my spirits to distract me from having a panic attack and it worked! I wasn’t expecting to get a brand new car in exchange for the van but I needed something and I needed it fast!

When we got back to the office, Jeremy asked if I needed anything or wanted a refreshment from the coffee stand. I told him I had had enough caffeine but I did grab a couple of cookies mumbling that I hadn’t eaten yet that day. While Jeremy went to his office, I sat back down to recharge my phone and after another hour had went by, the service desk guy I gave my keys to came over and told me what they thought was going on with the van. Jeremy overheard the conversation then sat down in the same seat as before. “Ok sis, we gotta get you into a better vehicle so that you don’t have to worry about paying money that you don’t have on expensive repairs and I don’t like the idea of you and your kids being stranded on the side of a road somewhere for days at a time. Let me get some more info on your van and I’ll be right back.”

I called my teen to get her little sister from school as I wasn’t going to make it to pick her up on time. Jeremy came back with a handful of car keys and motioned for me to follow him out a different door of the building to walk across the street. He showed me a Kia and a Scion and talked to me about the cars but my attention kept going to the Scion with only 23,000 miles on it that came with a warranty. I told him I’d be interested in trading for that one because the tires were brand spanking new, it was a 2010 that looked like it had just come off the assembly line! We went back into the front office only this time I sat in the other lobby and waited. Jeremy introduced me to Ron Heath and said they would be buying me something to eat while they got the Scion’s paperwork ready and filled with gas. Ron brought me some food from Taco Time and Jeremy gave me some fruit they had in their break room.

The Scion

Ron sat with me for a little while and even helped move my stuff that was in the van over to the Scion. Dang it! Just occurred to me I should’ve gotten a picture of Ron! Anyway, both Ron and Jeremy were excellent at customer service in my opinion and through the whole process, they never talked down to me in fact they were more supportive than anything else. If I could give them an award, I would! While I was sitting in the lobby, I had a chance to watch all the other staffers there and not once did I see any of them act less than professional and that tells a customer a lot! I’ve been in customer service for over 20 years and I have never seen such dedicated staff at a dealership in my life!

Now to some, dealerships are just shark tanks waiting to tank advantage of anybody who walks through the front doors and granted, there are some out there that do that but……I have to weigh my options because out here, there isn’t much wiggle room when you’re homeless. I could either keep the van and risk breaking down somewhere really inconvenient and fret about repairs I simply do not have the money to pay for or I can trade straight across for a newer car with better gas mileage and longevity. For me and my situation, trading a 2009 Honda Odyssey for a 2010 Toyota Scion was not just a better choice but a matter of meeting immediate survival needs. If I hadn’t of made the trade, I never would’ve made it to the caregiving job scheduled that night and the next day which was an opportunity to earn badly needed money!

Even as I’m writing this, I keep wondering what would’ve happened to us if Jeremy hadn’t stopped to see how I was doing. I keep wondering if me and Maggie would be sleeping on the bus right now.  Jeremy and Ron went above and beyond their job descriptions and I hope the powers that be recognize the gems they have in these two guys. I do!

Thank you Jeremy, Ron and Hinshaw’s Honda of Auburn, Washington!

 

 

, , , ,

Helping others to help others

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (1 Comments)

Been awhile since I posted but that’s because there’s always more to do than there are hours in a day! It’s that time of year again to go back to tending my micro urban farms to help those who cannot find enough help to make ends meet but before that, I’ve been doing what I’ve been doing and that’s helping homeless to survive another winter. It’s always refreshing though, to run into other individuals doing what they can to help their communities be a better place for everyone regardless of what other people think. That’s why I tell people to grow a tough hide out here because the more you start making an impact, the more static you’ll get from the status quo!

Just to give you an example of what a typical day is like out here, I’ll share with you how this morning went. First call of the morning came from my very first homeless volunteer, Betty. She found Jay, a local disabled homeless man in a wheelchair, sitting outside of a Valley Cities Mental Health services office without his wheelchair. Turns out it broke down and a church had given him two walking canes to get by on but using them is a big strain on Jay. Betty went to a local senior center before Valley Cities opened to see if she could find a spare wheelchair he could sit in for awhile but she didn’t stop there. She got on the phone and called Jay’s caseworker from Health Pointe and they were on their way with a new chair for Jay. This isn’t the first time Betty’s sharp eyes have caught other people in need when no one was around to help. That’s another fact of life out here. Often, it’s other homeless people that come to the rescue because there isn’t much outreach going on in Kent unless it’s to recruit you into somebody’s church services or….a drug dealer looking for a new customer and for the youth, it’s usually recruiters from local gangs.

Betty has let me know of pregnant women and families with small children living out of their cars or sleeping at parks simply because she’s like me and does her daily walks to check and see where people are and how they’re doing. Nobody is paying her to do this and I don’t get paid either. Sometimes Betty doesn’t feel well but that doesn’t keep her down and if I can help her with rides (when I have gas!), bus fare or help with groceries, it just makes her life a little easier and provides her the support she can’t find anywhere else.

I happened to be in Auburn this morning doing one load of laundry (that’s all I could afford) before the library opened but once it was finished, I drove around the block to check on the older car dwellers to see how they made it through the night. Sure enough I found another gal I met at another park a few months ago, doing her own community outreach to the “campers” needing food. I asked her how the good fight goes in Auburn and discovered that she had been helping a family with small children to stay at a motel for a month because after all the running around they did with local service groups, they couldn’t get help fast enough to find shelter in the cold windy rain we’ve been having. Even though her finances were already strained to the limit, that didn’t stop her from helping others who have it worse than she does. That’s what outsiders often do not understand. For the folks who are out here or have been out here, the sense of urgency is acute. If we don’t act as soon as possible, somebody will die out here. Now this gal needs help making up the rest of her rent and I’m hoping folks who are reading this will make a donation to help her out IF they are able to.

Come hell or high water, for those of us who know what the reality is out here, we often have to make personal sacrifices because there are no options we can conveniently wait around for. When people are desperate, they will do desperate things to survive even if it’s negative so I don’t judge people for that. I do however,  take issue with folks who do nothing to alleviate poverty when they have the power to do so but don’t. This isn’t about enabling people others are quick to judge, it’s about providing our own support system to keep from spiraling further and further into hopelessness. People trying to help themselves will get burnt out sooner or later chasing around dubious services but they keep looking for them anyway. Problem is, it’s taking too much time to get help and that’s why I do what I do. I see the reality every day because I’m still living it myself!!

To those who take up advocacy, I give you these words of advice. Don’t worry about the negativity of other people who aren’t doing what you’re willing to do. There’s no one way to help people and it’s a learning process to find out who is worth your trust but if you don’t give up, the right people will come into your life at the right time. The trick is not to let yourself get distracted by other people that don’t share your vision. I would also say to do your best to take care of your needs by not cutting too deeply into your own resources but I do understand that in some cases, it’s damn near impossible not to. We already know we’re on our own since there’s a never ending onslaught of budget cuts to state and federal programs. We already know people are afraid to step out of the safety of their own comfort zones to care about anybody else. We also know that people are quick to judge instead of actually doing anything but we also know we can’t quit. We may never know the impact we make on other people’s lives but I’d rather do what I can when I can than regret it later.

Just know that your efforts, no matter how big or small, made the world a better place for the people you chose to help.

Thank you for all that you do and thank you for taking the time to read this!

 

 

, , , , , ,

A nice letter to the cowards who hide behind fake id’s on the internet

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (3 Comments)

Internet trolls come and go but they all share the same habits. They have nothing better to do with themselves but make accusations they can’t prove thinking they actually have something to prove. Sadly, they spend inordinate amounts of time worrying about what everybody else is doing instead of minding their own business and oh I don’t know, investing in their own personal growth. The best way to deal with internet trolls is to ignore them. Hiding behind fake id’s is the hallmark of cowards so why waste your energy on people who open their mouths but have closed minds?

I’m out in the open about what I do and don’t feel it necessary to waste my time on people who don’t have the balls to be out in the open about who they are. Unless you got proof of anybody actually committing fraud, you’re basically a useless bag of air. I don’t get money from the state and everything I actually make does get reported. I’m an accounting major and have worked in financial services for years. Oh and another thing, url’s can be tracked to their location even if you’re using a fake id, something not too bright people don’t seem to get.

So, if you find yourself pestered by trolls, don’t get too worked up about the dribble that comes out of their mouths. If somebody commits slander against you, sue them. Otherwise, they’re just static noise in the background nobody cares about anyway.

Verifying homeless people not making it with more bureaucracy

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (0 Comments)

Dshs verification form

 

 

I just came back from a visit with the local DSHS office for a review because they mailed a review notice I never got in time to prevent medical and foodstamps from expiring at the end of December. I sat in the waiting area making small talk with the filled room for about an hour when my name got called. I followed the caseworker to his desk where he quickly went through screens filling in the blanks with answers I gave him to all the questions I was being asked. Pretty much everything is the same …except for the fact I got a $200 a month income from maintaining a production company’s online presence via social media. I don’t have any written contract with the guy or anything so the caseworker suspended my food stamps until I can get a letter from the owner of the company stating I get paid a set amount once a month. In addition, the caseworker wants me to write out a letter stating how I’m surviving homelessness even after he clearly saw that I haven’t gotten a child support check in three months now so I asked “You want me to come back with a letter stating how I’m not making it instead of me telling you while I’m here?” The guy said yes and that was the end of the “review”. I did get medical reinstated and as if he thought this would make me feel better he said “Oh don’t worry, once you get that verification back to us, we’ll reinstate your food stamps back to the beginning of January.” Here’s the problem. What do I do about today?

I took the time while at this “review” to ask the caseworker about me being told by another caseworker from Childcare Assistance mind you, that I was told that I couldn’t get help with daycare because the job I was applying for that wanted to hire me was minimum wage. He adamantly told me that whoever told me that was not telling me the truth and it couldn’t have been through DSHS. Fact is I said, it was and that’s why I recorded the phone call and put it on YouTube. Not on that I said, I tried to work for another company but they only paid once a month and since you guys take three weeks to get anything done, what daycare is willing to wait a month to get paid? The caseworker couldn’t comment on my question but I could tell he cared it’s just that he was frustrated with the way things are just as much as I am.

So, here I am at the public library pondering on the fact that I have about a quarter tank of gas, $2.00 in my bank account, about $2.00 in my PayPal account and no idea if and when we’ll see child support again. I blog about my day to day “adventures” to show people reality and to my amusement, a wanna-be troll made a comment about making thousands of dollars off of their erroneous assumptions that just because a homeless person has a blog and an old laptop, they must be a scam. Ha ha ha ha ha haaaa! Ignorance rears it’s ugly head once again! Trolls come and go and it’s usually cowards hiding behind an online account so I don’t waste too much time on them.

In the meantime, the real-time reality for me is that 1, I’ve got to find a safe place to be with minimal travel to conserve what gas I have. 2, hopefully, there’s a feed nearby we can get to without having to burn up a lot of gas. 3, I can get this verification form or a letter from the owner of the company I do social media for to fill it out asap! If I can’t, well then, we’re pretty much screwed and that’s the way it is for too many people in this country that can’t get immediate help!

Oh and one more thing, if anybody with half a brain knew how to read, they’d notice that my donate button on this site usually is to fundraise to buy other homeless people things to make survival a little more bearable, things like handwarmers, $5 fast food cards, socks, sleeping bags, tents, etc. but due to the economy, folks who donate can only contribute to these things a few bucks at a time if and when they’re able.

Stay tuned folks…I’m sure this adventure in survival I’m having is about to experience more twists and turns in the coming days…..

 

Tales from Brokeville: How to make a lasting impression

Posted by Carey Fuller in Survival | Uncategorized - (0 Comments)

It’s easy to get caught up in the banality of everyday living, something I don’t recommend doing. Since I can only speak from where I’ve been and see myself going, I can only give you glimpses of the life I’m currently living. Yes, to many it’s a nightmare they don’t want to live much less read about but for me it’s all in the learning that comes from watching other people who for some reason have taken an interest in watching me. More importantly, I think it’s about listening and sharing things that aren’t always easy.

When I think about it, it was those really hard times that taught me who I really am and what I’m capable of. I have become my own survival guide because of how I grew up so for me, people who can’t figure that out for themselves are baffling. See, I grew up in a place called Brokeville, maybe some of you have heard of it? Hell, some of you have lived there yourself if you aren’t already there right now!

Anyway, my time there as a child was always an adventure in growing older. Can’t really say growing up because what if after puberty, you haven’t? You could always have an adventure in Brokeville but sometimes there were kinds you’d rather not. I learned how to fight in Brokeville and I think at the time I must’ve been about five years old. I remember waking up and running to the living room window of our apartment, crying. Crying because from where I stood, I could see my father getting into a car and leaving me by myself.

I opened the door and ran out, hoping to catch him but all I could do was stand on the second floor walkway and watch him drive off. I’m not sure how long I just stood there sobbing but it didn’t take long to realize somebody had been watching me. Laughter from the neighbor kid, Michael, snapped me out of my despair and replaced it with dread. I hated Michael with a passion because Michael had a problem nobody else knew about. The first time my mother left me and my sister at Michael’s house to babysit us, we soon found out all about Michael but it wasn’t until his parents left the room.

Michael was a few years older and bigger than I was. “Awww, did your dad take off and leave you by yourself?”  I turned and ran back into our apartment with Michael running close behind me. I managed to shut the door in enough time to slide the chain above the deadlock into place but the door was still partially open. Michael kept throwing his body against the door, attempting to dislodge or break the chain but it was strong. Michael was furious and kept yelling at me through the door to unlock the chain but I just stood there staring at it. Then I had an idea. “Back up so I can close the door to unlock the chain.” I had no idea if he would but when he did I closed the door and turned the knob on the deadlock then I stood on the couch in front of the window and grinned at Michael’s angry face on the other side of the glass. Realizing I wasn’t about to open the door anytime soon, Michael retreated to his own apartment.

The day after this incident, I was outside poking around the grounds looking for a rock. Not just any rock, a revenge rock. Once I found it, I climbed up the stairwell to wait for Michael’s school bus that should be arriving any minute. Sure enough, here came the bright yellow short bus that always dropped Michael off at the curb. Michael couldn’t see where I was perched and I patiently waited for him to walk closer. As soon as he approached the stairwell, I launched my rock and watched it bounce off his forehead. Instinctively, Michael’s hands flew to his head and he said what I was pretty sure were swear words. Then he looked up and saw me standing above him with my fists clenched, waiting for him to take another step. He began going down a list of things he was gonna do to me as tears ran down his face but I stood my ground and said “Go ahead. Tell you mom and dad I hit you in the head with a rock ‘cause when you do, I’m gonna tell ‘em what you did when you locked me into the closet with you.”

Michael’s face went from red to almost purple and he was breathing hard but he just stood there staring at me. Down the walkway, I could hear the door from Michael’s apartment open and his father leaving for his night job. He noticed Michael near the stairwell and called out to him “Michael, you better hurry up. Your mother has dinner on the table and yours is gonna get cold.” Michael still didn’t move. “Okay dad, I’m comin’.”

Michael and I watched his father get into his station wagon and drive off. Once he was gone, Michael wiped his face and continued up the stairwell. I thought for sure we were gonna get into it but instead, Michael walked past me and kept on going until he was back inside his own place. Due to the dynamics between my mother and father back then, I never did tell them about Michael. I had become accustomed to not being listened to anyhow.

From time to time I wonder whatever became of Michael since I have no idea how his life turned out after “the incident” but I do know that he left the same kind of impression I left on his forehead: permanent.

, , , , ,

Everything costs more when you’re poor

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (0 Comments)

Somebody recently accused me of doing what I do just for attention and you know what? They’re absolutely right! I want to bring as much attention as possible to the reality of homelessness because that’s the only way to get rid of ignorance!

For those of you who don’t know, once you fall through the cracks and find yourself living out of a car, you will quickly discover just how much everyday things begin to eat away at your income.  For instance, once you are degraded down to homelessness, you will spend more of whatever income you might still possess on gas and maintenance to make your only source of transportation and shelter last longer. If you don’t have friends who will let you come over to take a shower or do laundry, you will have to pay to access a laundromat, a hotel or showers at a public pool and there is no way around that unless you live in a rural area but even then, you gotta pay for gas to go somewhere to set up a camp shower.

If you’re a family living out of a car, then most of your income will probably be spent on childcare if both parents are working, not to mention healthcare costs, food and anything else your family needs on a daily basis. It’s worse if you are a single parent paying for everything yourself even while working two jobs, something I can more than speak about from experience.  If there is one thing I’ve learned about being homeless, it’s that you can’t rely on false hope or have the expectation others will help you. You might get lucky here and there but the reality is…you’re on your own and you better hope your health stays intact the longer you’re stuck out here.

For all the studies so-called experts write, I find it curious that not one of them actually tracks how the poor survive on a daily basis and I’m not talking about via prostitution, drugs or violent crimes since you don’t have to be homeless to engage in those activities. Maybe that’s why so many policies fail. How do you even pretend to know how to end poverty when everyone’s situation is different? Also, the face of poverty is not the same as it used to be. People’s lives aren’t as simple as a printout of numbers on a report based off of somebody else’s statistics.

Maslow’s observations on the hierarchy of needs are very true when it comes to poverty. A person simply cannot focus on anything outside of immediate survival when most of their time is spent in trying to acquire basic necessities. Housing isn’t free and subsidized housing is becoming a pipe dream. Everybody likes to believe that education is the great equalizer but in reality it isn’t anymore. Think about it. In order to qualify for higher earning careers, a student must take on heavy debt to pay for an education (something grants can’t pay for on their own anymore since many colleges deliberately raise their costs making it almost impossible to go to college without taking on a loan). If and when a higher income is found in today’s economy, those paychecks will get eaten up paying back student loans in addition to the rising costs of living. In view of reality, how can we keep telling our young people to chase their dreams of a higher education that may or not be worth anything in the future?

For many, income will never be the same as wealth and the working poor already know this. You can have an income but what good is it if you still can’t pay for housing, healthcare, food, utilities, etc.? Everybody knows that the only thing that helps people help themselves is resources. You need resources for housing, education, healthcare, food and the list goes on. What we don’t need is endless vague waiting lists to be put on another waiting list. We also don’t need judgment that gets in the way of actually helping people. The ugly truth in America is that this country could end homelessness if it really wanted to. The problem is that ending poverty isn’t that much of a priority in this country. Maybe that’s because people don’t want to see an ugly reality that has always been there. I think it’s called being in denial.

, , , , , ,

Are still echoing

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness | Poetry - (0 Comments)

This is the month I found out what happened to them.
Sammie Jo and her sister Carmen, two homeless native girls I tried my damnedest to help. The man who murdrered them deserves the death penalty but time will tell if that ever happens.

If you wonder why I do what I do with homeless youth, well this it:

http://www.idahostatesman.com/2013/01/04/2401358/child-killer-joseph-duncans-competency.html

Every year I write about how their memory has affected me. This year’s poem is called “Are still echoing”

The haunting has begun
Tears run through my fingers
The way their raven tresses did

Footsteps of the missing
Are still echoing
In those hollow spaces
Filling up my mind

Through the other side
Of a store front’s window
They used to wave at me
Waiting for my shift to end

I’d get them something to eat
Even though
Those closest to me
Refused to get involved

Round and round I went
Looking for resources spent
On never enough
I guess other people’s children
Don’t mean as much

And every drum at the powwows
Is another heart beat dancing
Wanting to be remembered as anything other than
Homeless

How can we say we’re about unity
When everyday our children see
We’re not

, , , ,