Reflections - "As Might I"

By Kristin Bivens
I have never been homeless. I’ve always had a warm bed to sleep in and food waiting in my refrigerator for me whenever I want it. But, living in Chicago over the past two years, I’ve seen my fair share of homeless people. People I walk past without giving them a second thought.
Like so many living here in Chicago, I’ve become almost immune to their existence. I walk right past them downtown on my way to and from class, without the courage to look them in the eye as they jingle their paper cups and create the sound of spare change.

I grew up in Niles, Mich., where it’s still very rare to see anyone begging on the streets. I was raised by a single mom since I was eight after my dad died. And despite my mom’s struggles to make ends meet, I have always had a place to call home.


But tonight, walking the streets around Michigan Avenue, I wondered—what would I do if I was homeless? How would it feel to be homeless in one of the biggest cities of the world?

The whizzing by of cars and the smell of exhaust are something you can’t escape on the streets of Chicago—unless you have a home. When you hear that sound, and smell that smell all the time, I imagine, the city loses its charm.

I imagine as a person living on the street, you see business person after business person who know nothing about you, walking past, but I’m sure they look at you with disgust as they pass by you, knowing they have a place to sleep for the night. I imagine that living on the streets of Chicago, with its huge buildings and shiny lights, creates bitterness.

I know I would be bitter if I had to continually stare into the eyes of the skyscraper giants and know that thousands have jobs in those buildings, but you can’t get one. How that must feel. It must feel like 10,000 people staring at you in the face, taunting you in this city of dreams, where you’ve become just another statistic that everyone counts out of the game.

I imagine you’d feel like no one wanted you. Like no one believes in you. Like no one thinks of you as a person anymore.

When you’re digging through a dumpster or lingering nearby, like one man I saw tonight, I know everyone thinks you’re simply disgusting, as if there is no need for you to be digging in that dumpster. But, I wonder, what would the man in the business suit do if his job was gone, his house foreclosed upon and his pride to high to ask for help?

He’d be digging in that very same dumpster looking for anything edible. As might I.