Mondays and Tuesdays make me giddy right now because I teach two classes on each day and take one film class each day. Do the math. That’s a whole lot of classroom time. I drink green tea and think positive thoughts. Only two more weeks and then the schedule lightens by one class. Still, I’m grateful for all the work. Learned today that my credit score is pretty low and so all this work, plus what looks like a positive sale of my condo, will help me rebuild there–as I’m doing most places in my life right now. So, on Sunday evenings I’m a touch flighty knowing how the work days stretch before me. That was my energy when I turned the corner after parking my car around 10 p.m. and saw Jewel, the homeless woman I have adopted in my heart.
“Moving your stuff,” I asked her happily enough, waving and smiling, too. She mumbled something, so I crossed the street.
“What?” I asked, taking a few steps closer.
I couldn’t hear her again.
“What?” I said some ten feet distant from her.
“Why?” she hissed angrily.
I took a step back. Caught off guard, I just wanted to comfort her.
“No reason. I was just curious.”
“Campbell, right?” she hurled back.
“What?”
“Your name is Campbell,” she responded in hostility.
“Oh, no…my name is Karolina,” I annunciated slowly and carefully.
“What’s your last name?” she snarled.
“My last name is Garrett,” I offered her.
She softened but kept slowly moving in her purpose to pull her two carts to another location.
“Thank you,” she said softly. And turned around.
I also went in a different direction flustered as to what had just happened. Clearly, someone appearing out of no where cannot be a pleasant surprise for her. Perhaps city officials even do a sweep at night before they lock the park gates. I wish I had said goodnight.
The next day I saw her soaking up some sun in the park. At least we have the days to thaw out. I didn’t have the heart to go up and talk to her again. Not quite sure what to do. I’m teaching a class titled “Government and Politics” where we analyze San Francisco’s homeless culture and its public policy. Maybe I will discover some ideas during that time.
At the gym just now sitting in the sauna, I read in a recent Time magazine the editor’s reflection on America’s long history of paranoia in our politics–how we project psychological fears onto the “other.” Why are we so fearful in America? The magazine issue also covered Fox’s Glenn Beck and his wrathful politicking. Anger sells. In contrast, Anna Quindlen wrote a poignant essay titled simply “Homeless,” where she argues that we turn individuals like Jewel into a public policy matter rather than notice how unique an individual she is. Why? Because to notice her hurts too much. Why not fear her rather than say hello? Intellectual paranoia distances anyone from the startling reality that a grown woman with dignity must sleep outside on this chilly night in San Francisco, California–in America, land of the free.
By the time junior rolls around in my home, sociology lessons will probably start as he or she turns one. Good stuff for children to ponder I suppose from an early age. They can read and take notes at that age, yes? Better dust off my child development books and see if I’m accurate on that one. Or ask Jewel. I’m sure she has children somewhere.
Posted by karolinawrites 