By Keith Wasserman

As some of you may already know, since 1989, I have been spending several days every few years living among homeless people in different cities in the United States. I go to live on the streets to expand my perspective and understanding of homelessness and homeless people. Here are some of the other reasons I go:

• I want to have my reservoir of compassion replenished! I too can become insulated to the reality of the pain, uncertainty and fear that homeless people feel. I go to the streets have my compassion renewed.
• As a Christian, I believe that since Christ incarnated himself into our world in order to be a bridge for men and women to have a relationship with their maker, we too then, must incarnate ourselves into the world of those whom we care about in order to understand how they think and how they feel in order to really love and help them.
• To feel with in order that I might understand better and create structures and opportunities for others to serve.
• To re-evaluate how we are serving the homeless at Good Works--to explore what we may need to change and how to go about doing that.
• To know what it's like to be on the receiving side. This helps me to gain renewed perspective on the feelings of strangers. (Exodus 23:9)

  In Lexington, Kentucky I learned about FEAR. I learned that going into a shelter and spending the night with strangers day after day in FEAR wears down the body's natural defenses and makes one vulnerable to sickness and mental breakdown. I learned that it is FEAR that often makes a person compromise their own moral and ethical standards to survive. I stayed with 150 men plus women and children for 3 days on the floor of the gym in a Salvation Army. I slept next to a man with a knife. The only reason I knew he had a knife is because I watched him threaten to stab another man earlier in the day. Fear changes one's personality and life choices. Prolonged fear turns you into someone you don't like and don't want to be with. Could it be fear that prompts the homeless to lie in order to survive?
  
  In Charleston, West Virginia I learned that the system of sheltering the homeless caters to the chronic and not the crisis. I felt treated like an alcoholic and a drug addict. I didn't have proper identification and when I went to the Police to obtain the I.D. the shelter wanted, the police wouldn't give me anything. I returned to the shelter and the staff implied that I was lying. I felt caught in the middle. I felt misunderstood. It was in Charleston that I befriended an un-employed pimp. I learned how to listen to the voices from the streets; the voices of men and women who are survivors in a world in which they see little opportunity.
  
  In Indianapolis, Indiana I learned that time is the enemy of the homeless. It seems like there is nothing to do and no where to go. So much idle time to get depressed. So little hope. Yes, you can work your tail off for 8 hours at minimum wage but you spend each days earned income to meet the needs of each day. I learned that it is very difficult to save money when you live on the streets. When you do earn money, you become a target for others to steal, exploit or beg you to give to them. People are in a rut and need someone to pull them out. It is this sense of hopelessness that often tempts people to medicate themselves with drugs to relieve the pain.
  
  In Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania I learned...

  In Akron, Ohio I learned about the need for privacy and loss of identity. Privacy is a commodity purchased by those who have money. The more money one has the more privacy one can purchase. The less money you have, the less privacy you can obtain. We need privacy to maintain our mental health. I remember feeling like there was no place to go where I could be alone, to be myself. We were always around others who could potentially take advantage of us. This low level stress combines with physical sickness to make a person behave strangely. No wonder some of the homeless appear mentally ill.

  I also learned about the loss of identity. When we lose a sense of who we are, we lose the realization of the image of God upon us and our purpose in this world. The loss of family and work confuses our identity. We become vulnerable to the seduction of a new identity; the identity of a bum; unattached from the network of accountability which fosters real human growth. Having a family (or "a people") gives us a sense of identity. Having work gives us--especially men--a sense of identity. Being loved gives us a sense of identity. I saw the loss of family, work and love, and with these things, the loss of identity.

In Tulsa, Oklahoma I learned...

In Jacksonville, Florida I learned that while there are many good and caring people on the front lines of helping the homeless, the problem of homelessness doesn’t seem to be getting much better. I stayed in a city with an estimated 3000 homeless people. I went to shelter after shelter looking for a bed. Only by God’s grace was I able to find a place to sleep. Homelessness continues to be the result of a collision of personal choices and societal systems beyond one’s control. Homeless people are caught in a nightmare of social oppression combined with the learned coping habits of survival.

I speak about 80-100 times a year around the US on many topics related to the ministry God has trusted us with.  This talk is called HOMELESSNESS: THE VIEW FROM THE OTHER SIDE Part 1 and Part 2. Both parts were given recently at Cornerstone Festival in Bushnell, Illinois.

As I enter my 30th year with Good Works, I am aware more than ever before how these experiences have helped me to more fully understand that homeless people are real human beings; people who in many ways are not much different from myself. I learned that in order to understand and help people who are suffering, one must leave the comfort of one's own security and reach out, perhaps incurring some personal risk and pain. As a Christian, I now more fully understand what Christ Jesus has done for me. I am grateful and I want to continue to turn my gratitude into a godly activism.

Keith Wasserman
January 2010

To invite Keith for speaking engagements, e-mail him at keith@good-works.net or phone 740.594.9000.