Section 8

Years ago, my mother lost her job and her home.
I welcomed my mother and her particular ways into my life. It wasn’t the first time she’d been in this sort of predicament, without anything. And this time, I vowed to change her life and to find her a purpose.

In fact I vowed to make it my purpose to find her this purpose.

I started my hunt for a brilliant psychiatrist, some benefits, and a life that would match her extraordinariness. Surprisingly it wasn’t as hard as I thought. It only took a few days on the phone to line up a handful of appointments.

I was very organized. Much more so than I was in my own life.

I had a plan A, B, and C.

My mother however, was not as excited about her new life. That’s the thing I learned about helping people in real-time. Helping people in theory is amazing. There are so many beautiful denouements to create for so many kinds of people. But the trick is figuring out how to shove these often unwilling cast members into these narratives, while also preserving our own sanity.

My mother was stubborn. She disliked and did not trust people nearly as much as she trusted her own ways of surviving her anchorlessness. Her own habits were more familiar, more fun, and certainly more reliable than any system I was learning about with its lackluster promises made by people who seemed like they were in need of their own services.

So I sat my mother down before this impressive itinerary of plans for her, and she rolled her eyes and chuckled in that condescending yet appreciative manner she had. “It’s a beautiful plan, Darling,” she said. “But if you think I’m going along with it, you’re out of your fucking mind. It’s just not me.”

And I realized she was right. She had a right to be on her own path. And hers wasn’t a bad path. From an aerial view, it was a path like any other - journeying from the spigot to the drain, with instances of beauty, grace, hilarity, pain, fear, and wonder. So I gave up my plan, gave her my blessing and love, and she eventually continued on her way. And I returned to my own anchorlessness. For a few days or so anyhow, before I realized- maybe I could still save someone! After all, I had all these resources and appointments set up.

So I began my search for someone in need and quite quickly I met someone. A homeless person. He was minding his business on a park bench as I was passing by and I found the courage to ask if I could join him. We spoke about this and that and I found out he’d been waiting for Section 8 housing.

He spoke about his past – the potential he’d had – and the circumstances that took everything piece by piece until he had nothing.

He told me about the time he’d been so cold he could feel the chill to his bones and how he finally got to take a hot shower.

He spoke about that shower in a way I’ll never forget. For 5 minutes, he described the warm water and how it just flowed from the spigot and thawed and then soothed him to his core and gave him life .

That’s when I decided to ask if he wanted me to call the guy who was going to help my mother find housing. And he said ok.

So I called this man on my phone. I’m not sure if it’s the high pitch of my voice, but I’ve always had this way of getting what I want on the phone. People giggle at me and sigh and maybe it’s because they can’t wait to hang up with me, I’m not sure, but they often acquiesce to my wishes.

So long story short. I was able to secure this homeless man an appointment, and because he’d already been on the list, it really didn’t take very long before this homeless man had an apartment.

God, it felt wonderful. Not only had I helped him, but I had a purpose. A use. I started to wonder if maybe I could make saving people my career. I even started thinking up logos for my non-profit.

But then I got the call from the guy at social services, who explained that the man had decided he was happier on the streets. I couldn’t believe it. “It’s more common than you’d think,” the man told me.

A few days later I visited the man back on the bench where I’d met him on. “What happened?”

He smiled. “You’re a sweet girl. But it was too quiet in there. I had a nice shower though.”

And that was that. I’m not saying helping people isn’t the right thing to do. There are so many people who want and need assistance and have every right to get it. I’m only sharing the experiences that taught me not to give one path more value than the next.

-JLK