Dear Solana,
So I am the lucky one huh? I mean after everything that has happened to me, I am the lucky one? Oh, Im not just talking about my disease and the constant pain, Im talking about my life in general. The constant 4ams at Starbucks, quad accidents, 31 moves, heartbreaks, drama, school decisions, and disappointments, and yet through all that I still come out on top.
In Santa Clarita we live in this extremely annoying bubble. You can walk the streets safely and your kids can avoid and unsightly "blemishes" that you would consider dangerous. So, I spent time in San Diego with these "blemishes" surrounding me and thought nothing until I saw four people my age homeless and hungry. Can you even begin to imagine being homeless at the age of 20?
Homeagainsd.org, an organization that is looking to end chronic homelessness, estimates that 8500 people are homeless in central San Diego alone. It is estimated that 2200 of them are under 21. So if you are under the age of 21 this challenge is mostly for you and myself. The next time you or I throw out food, complain about the $150 dollar jeans your bought for you, or think you deserve better than what youve got, think what it would be like on the streets. Humble yourself and count your blessings.
When my boyfriend and best friend, and I were in the gaslamp district it was literally one bar after the next. Each filled with the skanks and pimps that would drop hundreds of dollars on drinks and other entertainment necessities. We came to the conclusion that if each person at least dropped 50 cents, it would be more than enough to feed that entire block. So what happened to the four people my age on the street? Well, as people passed them by and they called patiently for peoples leftovers, well all passed them at first. Then we kind of stopped and I asked if anyone wanted the food. My boyfriend and best friend agreed we did not need it. As I handed the food to one of the girls and quickly walked away I heard, "oh Sweet! Thank you!" and saw nothing but smiles from all four of them.
I have to say it ruined my night. Soon, I was angry passing every person walking on that block. Everyone just wanted to get in a bar, while some of the people on that street just wanted food. And here I bring you to the even that changed my life. I have encountered many events with homeless people. Each one shaking me, changing me, softening my heart. Last summer my brother and I helped a homeless woman cross a street who just recently lost her home because of losing her job. And I thought to myself...Wheres her family in this whole mess? Where was anyone? Why was it that the 19 and 17 year old were helping her cross the street and we couldnt do anything more but just leave her there with 5 bucks?
I could of slapped myself for not carrying more money in my wallet that day. But not everyone has the same outlook as me do they? They think it only goes to alcohol, but no one offers to buy food, to ask what they need. Just a week before I went to San Diego, Jon Foreman, lead singer of the band Switchfoot wrote an article in the Huffington post about this exact topic.
He states,"At Stand Up For Kids I've seen her eyes shine with joy when she gets a cool pair of donated jeans. How lucky! Yes, her mom might be in prison. Maybe, she doesn't know where her dad is. Chances are she has nowhere to sleep tonight. But you see a resilience in her eyes. A fire. A spark. How lucky, a pair of jeans that fit! How lucky, my friend is here! How lucky. And us. We unfortunate souls. Complaining about our lukewarm coffee, about our cellular service, about the smell of this airborne neighbor of mine. At the Bro-Am I met a young man named Sean who graduated from high school while battling homelessness. He went to Haiti a few weeks later to help kids that were less fortunate. He chose to call himself lucky and overcome his situation. He chose to call himself lucky and help other less fortunate folks out. In all of my years I've never heard any of the aforementioned kids complain about their situation. Not even in passing And yet most conversations I overhear around the world have grumbling overtones. We're so good at it. It comes so naturally. And besides we've had years of practice. If you're dressing for the occasion, grumbling is always appropriate. I am not throwing stones! I've spent an embarrassing amount of time grumbling better than anyone. But I'd like turn in my grumbling rights. I'd like to burn the authorization that I was born with, the authorization to complain, moan, and sigh heavily. I'd like to surrender my weapons of privilege. Here and now, I lay them down. Maybe their ashes float gracefully in that exquisite air that lingers between 40G and 40F."
I could not agree with him more. So while my experiences seem to be a constant reminder that God is giving me, I think we need to be aware of how big of the situation truly is in the world. And what better place to be aware than in Santa Clarita, which makes tremendous efforts to hide them away. This is my heart, and I want to do just this: I want to help them. End of story. I hope this becomes your heart too, if not already.
Love Sam
