Homeless are our people.we should treat them like that

He grew up in rural central Georgia during the Great Depression. He used to tell us, half-jokingly and half-seriously, that when he grew up, his family was very poor and didn’t know the Great Depression was happening. It was a normal time for them. When he was thinking more seriously, he explained in detail what he was trying to say.

He told me that he still wore the hand-me-down clothes from his older brother even after they were worn out and full of holes, even though the size didn’t fit. He told us a story about waking up early before school and going hunting because the only way his family could eat meat was if he and his brother took successful hunting trips. did.

He told us the story of lying about his age so that he could join the Navy towards the end of World War II. He even told us the painful story of his life. They didn’t want their sons to play with someone they thought was poor, white trash.

Years later, those experiences still haunt him. And after telling those stories, he always taught me the same lesson. He never wanted to hear us making fun of, disrespecting, or excluding anyone because we were poor. Had it not been for the grace of God, we would have been in exactly the same boat, and for his brother and I, the lesson took hold.

Because of my family history and upbringing, I have always had a special interest in the poor. It is from that concern that I have to say

In July, Tennessee passed a law making camping on public property a felony. I believe the law is not only morally unconscionable, but incredibly short-sighted. By making it a felony, the law can prevent people from entering public housing. They will find it difficult to get jobs and may even be stripped of their right to vote. That said, Tennessee law exacerbates the very problem it seeks to solve. It keeps people trapped in a system they claim they want to end.

State legislation also has unintended consequences for such border communities.Bristol is currently facing a severe housing shortage. And that, combined with the lingering effects of the pandemic and inflation, leads to an intolerable situation. The number of people experiencing homelessness in this community is now increasing. The signs are everywhere. Additionally, many, but not all, of the homeless community suffer from mental illness and addiction. Simply put, they need our help, not our contempt.

The long-term solution to this complex problem is more housing. I know both cities are working on it, but understandably, it will take time. In the meantime, there are specific things we can do to help alleviate this problem. The first thing we can do is remember that people in the homeless community are humans.

The first thing we can do is treat them with the dignity and respect they deserve. It means talking to them, listening to them, and not paternalistically thinking that we have all the answers to their problems.

The second thing we can do is support the good work of the organizations that already help these people. Organizations like Family Promise, Salvation Army, Haven of Rest, and United Way need community support. They need volunteers and need additional funding. Putting people on buses and sending them out of town is not the answer. It’s about connecting them to service providers.

Third, we need to work as a community to significantly increase shelter space, especially when people are criminalized by camping on public property. Far more people are now experiencing homelessness than have beds in local shelters, and they deserve to have a safe place.

Finally, we need to look to increase mental health and addiction services in this community and region. If everyone agrees that mental illness and addiction exacerbate the problem, more housing can be a big help, but it doesn’t solve everything. We must treat this as a complex problem and try to solve it holistically, not through slogans or half-hearted measures.

A few years before my grandfather passed away, he became ill and naturally began to decline mentally. The first sign we noticed was a change in his vocabulary. Whenever he met or talked to strangers, he would always ask if they were part of “his people” after his grandmother had gone away. Of course, that meant being part of his family, but he finally stopped talking about his family, instead asking whether the people he met were “his people.” was fascinated by Anyone he spoke to could become one of him in “his people.” He didn’t know it, but he taught me and his little brother one more valuable lesson of his.

People currently experiencing homelessness are not “homeless people” because they are not defined by the lack of housing. It is not defined by resource scarcity or state. Rather, people come first. Specifically, they are “our people” and it’s been a long time since we treated them as such.