"Eyes wide open

Always hoping for the sun

And she'll sing her song to anyone

that comes along."

Today was a shit day. Or rather – it was probably a shit week. Ok maybe not totally shitty – but it wasn’t a mostly productive, fun-filled time.

Lets see – the beginning part started out kind of nice. I came back from a delightful weekend spent at home with mom and brother. It was filled with lots of tennis games, a rather hair-raising driving experience with my brother and a lot of just lounging-around-doing-nothing sort of time.

Then I came back here – to Boston and Harvard, to the Square and PHealth and that was fine. I found myself floundering a little trying to get used to all the solitude and nights spent in a heated oblivion but it wasn’t all that bad. I went to visit the “ghetto kids” as I fondly call them. (I suppose they’re actually not all that ghetto after all, but they do live in Dorchester and use a lot of those terms like “hold up” and other things that just make me laugh). So...yeah – did some exercises with them and tried to instill in them (and myself I suppose as well) more wholesome attitudes towards eating and snacking and all of that kind of stuff. I did some psych tests for money and made my way to Boston Medical to start in on my weekly shifts of advocacy and “resource-linkage” with the clients.

Except – I don’t know – it should probably make me feel useful and wholesome and good, but it doesn’t. Most of the time I leave shift with little inkling of whether I’ve actually remotely helped anyone that day, which makes me wonder frequently why I’m doing it at all.

There were some especially low points in the week – some moments of frustration, boredom, and loneliness creeping in. One thing that sticks out in my mind was being berated by a homeless man while waiting for the T at Downtown Crossing. I was standing there with the 3 other girls after our visit to the “ghetto kids” and we were all just trying to fill the time with some harmless (or it would seem) banter about summer camps and camping and whatnot. Suddenly a voice behind us starts yelling and for a split second I’m not sure if he’s actually talking to us or some other evil, evil individual who has been babbling on about their upper middle-class lifestyle and all the adventures they partake on. NOPE – it was us he was directing his anger towards.

Of course it was all justly deserved. One of us had made some off-hand comment about how it isn’t the most pleasant experience to spend a week in the woods without showering (surprisingly not myself) and he stepped in to angrily inform us of how it sucks that he has to spend most days of his life sleeping on T benches without being able to shower. How he must take his worn and disgusting blanket to the Laundromat just to be able to afford some efforts at cleanliness. As he went on his tirade I wished that the ground would just swallow me up. How could I have been so stupid as to forget myself and not even be concerned about the other people around me? Everything that he was saying was absolutely true. He was truly suffering while I spend parts of my day complaining about how I’m not getting my due or enough free meals.

Not one of us even really acknowledged his concerns or frustration. We just tried to turn a deaf-ear as if we were perfectly right in talking as we had. No one really spoke of the event afterwards. We all knew that we were complete assholes – even if we were spending a good part of the summer trying to help out individuals like him.

The thing is that I’ve recounted the story to a few people and sure, they all laughed at what had happened but, you know, maybe the right thing would have been to turn around, validate what he was saying and then maybe refer him to our organization and try to get him hooked up with a shelter or some food or something of the like. It’s like, we go and do our shifts and feel like we’re all helping people and doing something good, and then the second that we leave we retreat into our own worlds and forget about it all. What the hell good is it then? It’s hard to live in that sort of mindset all the time but isn’t that the sort of thing that we should be striving to more and more?

I don’t know – I feel bad every time I pass a homeless person or have an encounter like that one but then the moment passes and I forget about it as I browse through Urban and look at all the pretty new things that I could buy. As discomforting as the moment with that homeless man was, I should try to remember it more so that I can focus on that aspect of living and how I can change my general attitude.

Or I’m just in a pissy, disheartened mood and want it all to just go away. Who knows anymore...