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SUontreat Coffm’s Student ^oxci
From Callousness to Consciousness
The Story of a Day Shared with Asheville’s Homeless Jenna Givens
As I walked the streets of
Asheville, reeking heavily
of freshly cookeef sausage,
and pungent body odor,
I became inescapably
aware of my inequality
with the trendy passersby
frequenting the modern
shops and restaurants
around me. Everywhere I
looked—content in their
agendas for recreation,
and completely oblivious
to the broken eyes watch
ing them. I stood there,
hungry, and aware—
increasingly aware—of
my difference from them.
I felt this deepest in my
gut as we walked past
the little Mediterranean
restaurant where people
were gathered around
outdoor tables that were
covered in plates of warm,
sumptuous portions of
lunch. That is when it
grabbed me—the un
deniable grip of hunger
and frustration, as I had
to pass the sun-soakers
seated on the outside of
the restaurant just to con
tinue down the sidewalk.
It was unavoidable—the
shame and constant voice
of “less-than” mantras as
I remembered my empty
E ockets, my inability to
uy lunch as they did.
The truth is, I only expe
rienced this for a day, and
by my own choice. My
typical weekends include
such activities as outside
dinii^, Asheville strolls,
and dates spent walk
ing by the least of these
with nothing more than
a smile, and some unspo
ken pity offered. But not
this time—this weekend
I was opening my eyes a
little wider as I began to
see the other half of the
demographic of Down
town Asheville. I traded
in my freshly laundered
clothes for hand me downs
in their authentic donation
condition during Montreat
College’s SALT Poverty
Simulation weekend, and
I began an experience
that would change my
thoughts towards home
lessness indelibly.
The weekend tjegan with
the clothing trade, and
followed on toward a time
of self-realization as we
were held speechless at the
sight of the homeless man
sitting at our grocery store
stop, now standing x)efore
us in the program s large
meeting space. We hatl
seen the guy sitting out
side the store on the mulch
bank near the traffic light
with a sign that read “f am
hungry.”Tdiis was the mo
ment it hit me, the reality
of what we were walking
into for the weekend, as
I turned to the people in
my van and said, “Well
guys, I guess it begins
right here. We’re gonna
get a taste of that this
weekend.” I proceeded to
offer him a Lara bar and a
hasty “God bless you” as
I turned to walk back to
the van. He later expressed
how it felt to be the one
sitting there receiving the
“Gocfbless you” and now
he wished for something
more than a Christianese
pity gesture. We may
not dl get the chance to
be videoed interacting
with an intern posing as
a homeless man, but we
can take a closer look at
our empty words, sent
out with good intentions,
but ultimately hollow and
insufficient. Yes, ask God
to bless them, but don’t
let that be where it ends.
Homeless people have
needs to be given in prayer
just like our comfortable
church members. There is
something disconnected
in the church’s wires when
we are so quick to ask a
bible study, a sports team,
Sunday school, or a prayer
list, if there are any prayer
requests, but somehow
we pass by the very indi
viduals with apparent need
because they are dirty,
mentally ill, or maybe
even high. Take the ten
minutes you would have
spent thinking how “sad it
was,” and have a seat and
talk with them—make
use of your compassion by
giving it the opportunity
to evolve into action.
My second confron
tation with this new
humbling perspective
came during our hunt for
food. We were asked to
find lunch as part of the
simulation, and I began
to understand the reason
ing as I confronted the
weight that hunger placed
on my ability to concen
trate. It is the driving
force within homelessness,
the process of finding the
next meal. To my great
appreciation, we were tpld
by a few familiar faces of
Asheville’s regulars where
we could get a meal. We
were tipped off to a B-B-Q
being offered by one of
the local churches around
three thirty. The time
was around twelve when
we asked, and so b^an
the three and a halfnour
painful wait for the feeling
of food in my stomach.
I laugh to myself now
when I hear people com
plaining at restaurants as
they’ve waited too long
for the dinner they chose
from a menu while nib
bling on hot bread on the
table. I always thought
skipping meals wasn t so
hard, and didn’t think the
near 24 hour fast would
bother me, but there was
something I lacked in that
conclusion—the awareness
of the toll walking every
where takes on your body
after a night in the cold,
especially when everyone
else around you is on res
taurant auto-pilot.
As we walked to
the church, we
crossed through
parking
(continued on pg.3)
CL>
“Therefore, since we have been justified byfaith, we have peace with God through our LordJesus Christ.
Through him we have also obtained access byfaith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope
of the glory of God. More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance,
and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because
God’s lot^ has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
Romans 5:1-5