I don’t even know where to begin. Last night someone stole my toque, which normally I’m ok with because I assume that the person who stole it needed it more than I did (it happens frequently). Yesterday was one of the rare circumstances where this probably wasn’t the case. Thankfully, a kind student came by and actually lent me his for the night, despite knowing how greasy my hair currently is. I repeat, people are awesome.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the theme of today. People have
begun to latch on to the “I donated yesterday” line, which I understand, but
also don’t. See this is my problem. In my attempts to be as understanding as
possible, I try to see each person’s perspective. I am also a poor university student and am very careful with my money.
If I had already given my money I would get frustrated by being asked time and
time again. So I get that. But also, we’re talking dollars here. Not thousands,
not hundreds, just dollars. Dollars that I would spend on a coffee with no
second thought. So every single time someone doesn’t
donate I go through this whole mental process of justifying and then
un-justifying their response. This, combined with the mental processes of very
little sleep, results in complete mental exhaustion.
The feeling of rejection is also an unrelenting constant. I
know this is not about me, I know this is not about me, I know this is not
about me. And yet, for some reason, walking down the hall watching every single
person avert their eyes is hard not to take personally. I have calculated the
exact distance of where people will begin to take out their phones when they
see me coming. I have watched people unabashedly run away from me. Phones,
headphones, insanely interesting news articles, other people, imaginary phones—all
have been used to avoid eye contact. One girl actually just yelled banana when
I went up to her. This is one creative school.
In the morning a guy stopped by and told us that he actually
used to go to Woods Homes. At the time he needed the shelter, but they helped
him find a job and now he actually has a home and a job. I repeated this story
over and over in my head; it was huge to have a tangible reminder of why we’re
doing this.
The other thing I’ve observed is that food that is given to
you tastes about 134% better than food you’ve bought. People know that I have
nothing but words of appreciation to give them back, yet they’ve been so
generous. I actually started crying when I saw two of my friends approach with
fresh lasagna. Their hugs and words of encouragement genuinely got me through
this day. I am extremely thankful that I am not homeless and pray that I never
will be, but I also pray that I never lose the appreciation I currently have
for a friendly face. At one point I stopped asking for money and just started
asking people for a smile or even eye contact. I know this all sounds over the
top, but the emotional and physical roller coaster that this is putting me
through is ridiculous. People need to be loved, and shame on me for ever
holding back a smile in the past.
Currently there is literally a snow storm going on outside.
The roof of our dear hut tried its hand at freedom, but we caught it before it
went too far down the hill. After a quick sew job (thank the good Lord that we
have a survivalist on our team) it’s back on now, but tonight is going to be a
bit of a gamble. Fingers crossed that I don’t wake up buried in snow.
Bring it on, Day 3 (he said with less aggression and a little
bit more humility).
(Also, I don’t know who you are, but to the person who read
my last blog and donated aloe vera for the wind burn, may your offspring be
bountiful and your sheep never stop providing wool. And may the odds be ever in
your favour. You are awesome.)
3 comments:
You can do this! (Also, I once woke up covered in sand, under a collapsed tent and I survived that, so you can survive the snow. I know. Totally different. But I'm trying to send encouragement vibes. LOVETOYOU, MICHAEL.)
i know i have said it before but it bears repeating. thank you for doing this. on behalf of all the young wannabe rappers and runaways that walk through my doors every week, thank you. you are changing the world. don't forget that.
I'm so glad that a friend of mine posted the link to your blog so I could read it. Hearing what it is like for you has really changed my opinion about the whole thing. I'm pretty sure I would have walked right past you guys and never brought any money all week if I didn't read what you had to say.
I'm praying for you guys. You can do it!
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