I often hear people express their frustration about the poverty in DC. It's ironic that such an empowered class of people, in one of the most powerful cities in the world, feels completely powerless to help the numerous homeless people around them. Some people would argue these professionals are simply indifferent to DC's homeless, but I give the creative class a little more credit, after all DC is the non-profit capital of the world. In fact, I most often hear people claim they simply don't know what to do or how to interact with the poor.
On one of those sweltering summer days this month, I was on the 54 when I noticed it was taking a little while for the bus to get going after one of its stops. Finally, we all looked out the window to see a seemingly homeless woman with a very LARGE and very FULL shopping cart asking the driver to lower the wheelchair lift so that she could bring her shopping cart aboard. The whole bus did a head spin to see if the driver would really do it, after all, this thing would likely take up the whole front of the bus and make it difficult to reach the door.
Hesitantly, he said okay, and lowered the lift. There was a collective groan from the passengers as everyone got up and headed for seats in the back, to make room for the new arrival.
It took forever for this woman to get on the bus.....and I have no doubt that people were late to work because of it. Plus, she smelled badly and looked miserable...everyone noticed it.
However uncomfortable, I thought the whole event was fantastic. If we're ever going to find effective solutions to poverty, shouldn't we at least start by being exposed to the poor!!
Being uncomfortable and inconvenienced forced me to at least think about this woman's situation, something I guarantee I wouldn't have done otherwise.
3 comments:
You never cease to amaze me... and I venture to speak on behalf of the internet masses/aficionados as well: Every good author exercises his/her ability to create experiences that continue beyond them with the words and sensitive perceptions they write of - I'm glad for the privilege of seeing the world through your eyes on the Southbound bus...I look forward to the adventures to come.
And, always carry your headphones just in case.
I gotta disagree with you here. I was on the bus (perhaps the 54) a while ago and there was this mildly retarded dude attempting to conversate with whoever was sitting near him. No one was very receptive, but he was very friendly and quite adept at finding commonalities with everyone based on his/her shirt, bus stop, or other trait that most of us fail to notice about random people on the bus. While his joviality posed a severe hindrance to people’s much cherished glum bus rides, people chose to ignore rather than be annoyed by the man. I was more than willing to chat with dude, but I sitting in the back of the bus like cool kids always do and didn’t want to walk all the way up to the front just to sit near Forrest Gump and let him talk to me. Anyhoo . . . also on the bus with us was a homeless guy/smelly weirdo. He was one of those that emanated the aroma of old urine and had with him an assortment of plastic bags. Rather than initiate the “Stop Requested” lady upon arriving at his desired location, he shouted for the bus to stop. It did, and he shuffled his way to the front. As he grunted and befouled his way past the other riders, everyone leaned towards the windows and ensured that he not brush against them. As soon as he disembarked, our observant mentally challenged companion was the voice of reason. “Mr. Bus Driver, Mr. Bus Driver! You shouldn’t let him ride on the bus. He shouldn’t be on the bus like that.” While upholding the international public transportation standard of staring at the floor, we all silently agreed. There are norms and standards by which we must all agree to live. Electing to not participate in society is all well and good, but with this disengagement comes the loss of certain privileges. Mass transit is reserved for the masses, and need not be burdened with those who disassociate themselves from us. Being homeless is fine, smelling like a port-a-potty is not.
I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me loquacious retards over malodorous vagrants, or give me death!
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