A Homeless Heart

by Kelly Robinson

Published: October 23, 2009

I was thinking this morning that homeless can be a state of mind. No really - hear me out. I have been there. I’ve been the one who was curled up in a shelter lost and alone, so don’t think I am talking out of turn. I have also been the one living in a house but equally as homeless because I had no options and no other place to go. I would have to think hard about which was worse. I still have no verdict on that. When I was homeless, at least I had options. I could get in my car and find new shelter or new choices. So state of mind? Maybe, at times, that is true. Maybe, sometimes, we become so disheartened that we have a homeless heart.

It is common among non-working housewives, believe me. I am one and have been one in the past, so I know. But back in the day when a housewife wasn’t the exception, but the rule, women didn’t hate it so much. They didn’t have options, but didn’t really know much different. They were copying the models laid out before them by their own parents. There were exceptions where the marriage was just horrible, but mildly bad marriages were acceptable. Divorce wasn’t the obvious step, keeping your family together was. As the feminine movement raged forward, families lay in ruins behind it. It is the part that isn’t talked about or acknowledged, but before women stopped being “just” wives and mothers, there was a certain order to things. Oh don’t tell me how repressed we were, I know. You don’t think we aren’t still repressed? We just show it in other ways now.

Then the sixties and the seventies hit and women started leaving their husbands on a whim. This isn’t conjecture. I watched it happen. I grew up in a brand new subdivision where we knew every neighbor and their stories. That is how it was back then. There was a house next door to us that we called the divorce house. It seemed that anyone who moved into that house got divorced. Who knows why. A bad floor plan? Nah. The point is that it was the only house in our neighborhood that had been hit by divorce. Then all hell broke loose and you’d be hard-pressed to find a neighborhood where divorce hasn’t happened. This is progress?

Anyway, as the years ticked by, women started seeking out their own identities and living in their husband’s shadows wasn’t okay anymore. I look at the world now and don’t really think that we have made progress. Our society as a whole is in an identity crisis. Personally, I think it began during the seventies. I have heard the year pinned down to 1968 and wouldn’t disagree. It was the year that started it all; the year that logged more social changed than any year before or after.

What does this have to do with homelessness? Everything. During that time there was a change in social consciousness where our neighbor was no longer our responsibility and we stopped caring. We stopped fighting for our families and started fighting with them. It has been a slow dissolution since then. It is no surprise to me that a divorce is actually called dissolution of marriage on legal documents. Families dissolve into fragmented units, family members who need each other turn away and people end up on the streets instead of with family to care for them. That is so messed up. It was messed up when it happened to me and it is messed up for so many people. I can count on one hand plus a few extra fingers how many family members I have that had extra bedrooms when I was living in a shelter. I wasn’t on the outs with them; things were just complicated with some and unknown to others. I don’t know that the fragmentation of family is the main cause of homelessness, but it contributes.

Everything is relative, though, right? I heard a song that said, “There is no telling how much a sunrise means to the one who had a terrible night.” What homelessness means to me is so different than it means to others. It strikes fear in the heart of most people who have never experienced it. They see the images on television and envision the worst of it, as is human to do. My mother is so afraid of it that it drives her life, yet she is really not at risk of it ever happening to her. Others, who are at the brink, don’t give it a second thought. I don’t know.

I can only speak for myself. It was awful as it happened. The worst was the first day when I had no idea of where to go or what to do. I was scared out of my mind. I drove for hours and hours just crying and praying and wondering. Then logic kicked in and I turned to the closest social services I could find. No, they were of no help, but they did lead me to the Salvation Army and at the risk of sounding trite, they were my salvation. They gave me just enough security to let my mind rest and let me figure out what options I had and what my next step should be. Now, a few years later, I am so grateful for that experience. I no longer fear homelessness. I don’t want it, but it doesn’t feel like a death sentence anymore. That’s a gift.

The biggest risk and the worst part of homelessness is thinking you are out of options. As one of the wisest people I know once told me, until you die, you have options. Try not to panic so much that you forget that. If you can remember that you have options you will be able to climb out of homelessness. The options might not be the same as say Oprah or a Trump might have, but options are options. There are multiple house-sitting websites that can give you information about house-sits that are for as few as two days or are as long as a year. It is up to you to find the ones that fit you, get yourself together to apply and set up a couple of friends or family who will be your references. Even if it is just for a month, that is long enough to have an address and be presentable enough to find a job. Baby steps. Baby steps. You just have to take that first step.

Another option, one I almost took, is a live-in work arrangement. They are out there. You just have to look. You often have to be on call at all hours, but when you weigh that against homelessness, is there a question? Really? There are also agencies that will help to retrain you in a new vocation and will set you up with opportunities when you are finished. Some even house you during training. As another option, if you are the right age, there are always the armed forces. That is hard to recommend right now as we are fighting two wars, but many love it and it is an option. It is all about the options, your attitude, your willingness to fight for yourself and where you are. If you are in a place where the options are limited, leave there. Please. Please, don’t have a homeless heart. Don’t give up.

Just remember, there are people who care. Even if the ones who care about you are people like me who fight for the rights of the homeless and don’t personally know you - yet. We only don’t know you because you haven’t introduced yourself yet. Here, I’ll start. Hello, nice to meet you, my name is Kelly.

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