To me, my white coat symbolizes a willingness to care for my fellow man, and every day I strive to fulfill that challenge. But even the brightest white coat has a few stains. Growing up in a small Midwestern town, I just didn’t “get” the homeless community. They were completely isolated from my day to day life. Surrounded by my local community, I just assumed that the homeless were either lazy, addicts or some combination of both. Somehow, I concluded that their position was their own doing. I mean how else could you end up on the street?
I now realize that homelessness often manifests itself as a series of events that leaves a person helpless and broken. Recently, I became involved with Back on My Feet, a non-profit organization that combats homelessness through running, community support and resources for housing and employment. This inspiring organization allowed me to gain extended one-on-one time with homeless men and women. During our runs, I slowly learned the stories of the homeless persons around me. Often, their path to homelessness revolved around divorce, family troubles or unemployment. I vividly remember one man describing to me how difficult it was to lose his house and family after his divorce. “I showed up one day and the locks on the doors had changed.” Listening to him describe sinking into a deep depression, I began to understand how rapidly his life deteriorated. Sadly, his story and others like it became all too common as I met new Back on My Feet members. Their narratives helped bring to light the challenge of mental illness facing them and the rest of the homeless population.
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