Having a home
This weekend I traveled home from school for 1 day. After traveling the country, sleeping very little and a miserable Pittsburgh winter, it was a much needed break; one I rationalized despite impending finals and travel costs because I'd noticed something. No matter my state, my plans moving forward, my experiences prior, and even the duration of my stay, visiting home puts a new spring in my step. It drives me forward, gives me confidence in everything I do, knowing that no matter what happens, no matter how badly I screw up, there is somewhere on this wonderful planet I can call home; it's a place I can always return to, knowing there will be food at the table, a family that loves me, and a roof over my head. And when I think about how much confidence home gives me, how secure and grounded I feel in this chaotic world, amidst atrocious acts of irrational violence and strife, I can only imagine how awful being homeless is. It is truly rock bottom, to have nowhere to hide from the noise of the world and nowhere to take shelter when the going gets too rough. I push myself as hard as I do in everything I do because I know I can come home, but how can someone who's homeless possibly have that drive without that security? I've read accounts of homeless people having more confidence in everything they do because they've hit rock bottom and know they can go no lower, but I don't think the misery and insecurity are worth it; if anything, they have a lack of complacency. They have no reason to stay where they are, and will do anything in their power to change it. This can be powerful, but without self-esteem having nowhere to go but up is miserable rather than empowering. Maybe the security of having a home and of the lack thereof are similar, but they are sentimental polar opposites. I am incredibly impressed by the drive and ambition of those who pull themselves from homelessness with a fearlessness only they can muster, but most in their situation feel a misery I can only imagine, a misery from which I want to help them escape. The resources to provide them actual homes may not be available easily, but what is feasible is giving them each the opportunity for the security afforded by having a home. If they are to escape they need the sentimental security of knowing there is somewhere they will be cared for, fed and sheltered no matter their circumstances. This isn't a new idea, charitable homes for the less fortunate have existed forever (a testament to the sincerity of mankind), but at least for me I only now realize that there is so much value in a place for the homeless to get these things with absolutely no effort. There is little solace in knowing that with sufficient effort you may be able to feed yourself and escape from a dangerous situation; the security of a home, even if not entirely true, is its permanence. If there were any doubt in my mind that I may not have a home to return to, or that it would take incredible time and effort to secure one, it would manifest in my demeanor. I wouldn't spring forward with such intensity into a risky endeavour if I knew that I may starve if I fail, that I may not have somewhere to go when it's over, that if I fail I will have to work day and night for years to afford the same comfortability I now enjoy. I hear people speak of the homeless as lazy, that they don't work as hard as they possibly can to escape, but the emotional aspects of homelessness appear to be vastly underexaggerated. I hear "I won't give charity to anyone in health. He has 2 arms and 2 legs, he can work", but I suddenly understand the emotional hardship. They are at an emotional disadvantage, in such misery and insecurity that it affects everything they do, and for most only the charity of others will afford them the ability to escape.