AY: Paying Attention
My hearing hasn’t been so good these days. I seem to not be hearing the voices in my life. The voices of those who mentor and guide me. Even the guiding voice of the transcendent is more often voiceless to me. It’s frustrating and debilitating.
I was walking home from Urban Grace today and encountered a fair number of people. This is really quite obvious when you think that I am traveling on foot up the hill from the near center of downtown. One would walk past at least a few people … right? I often wonder what the voiceless stories are of the people who walk our streets. So, for some reason today I felt like greeting the folks who shared the sidewalk with me. Perhaps a conversation would stem out a simple greeting. Over the course of my homeward journey I said hello to at least 10 different people. Not ONE said hello back.
I began to think to myself, what in the world is the issue here. I may have a face piercing or two, I may have a couple visible tattoos … but there is no reason these people shouldn’t be saying hello back. Once I got home and sat my lazy ass down on the couch I began to ponder such a strange occurrence. I had already decided I wasn’t scary looking (at least I hope I’m not). Then I began to think that I just imagined the whole damn thing. Or, that I had just fallen asleep on the couch and was processing what could only have been a dream. None of the answers seemed to add up. Then I realized, as I pictured the faces I had looked into with my simple greeting, each of person happened to be homeless. Now I know I am making a huge generalization, of which I often steer clear. But bear with me for one second.
On my walk from Urban Grace to my house you would encounter these locations: The alley behind The MLK Shelter, Work Source, Saint Leo’s Catholic Parish, and Associated Ministries. All of who, to a certain extent, provide services for the homeless members of our community. So given that, I feel like a broad generalization is at least somewhat forgivable. (If not, I am sure the wonderful staff of Exit133 would tell me to change it. We’ll let it slide. This time.)
So, with my gross generalization in hand, I began to ponder a new thought. Why was it that the people I encountered did not say a word back to me? Was it because I was a person of privilege and they felt as thought it would not be right to converse with me? Or did they think there was no way that I was actually talking to them? I’m still not really sure what it was the contributed to their voicelessness.
What I do know is this: I do not often take the time to hear their voices, or even the voices of others who I share our sidewalks with. How can I expect to hear well when I am not even listening to the world around me? How can I hope to hear the voice of God when it is perhaps through the voices I am ignoring that I am being spoken to? I wonder what things I would learn about myself and my city if only I were to pay attention.
I am often far too busy with my own life that I don’t stop to breath, let alone open my ears. Sometimes I am so busy that I don’t even know my own story. I just float through life ignoring the signs. I guess I need to slow down, ask some questions and clean out my ears to hear the answers.
What are the voiceless stories in our community? What would we learn from the man on the corner of 11th and Tacoma … we all see him, her, them, ourselves. But do we hear?
I will leave myself and all of you with a line from a poem by Mary Oliver entitled, Sometimes.
“Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
I think she is right.
Filed under: Adam-Ydstie, General
12 comments
M Mofo from the Hood February 12, 2009
Right. I think, Mr. Ydstie, that you will find the answer that you seek in the movie “Taxi Driver.” Pay close attention to the scene where Travis Bickle is in his apartment and mugging in front of his mirror and saying, “You talkin’ to me?”… “You…talkin’ to ME?”
T That Girl February 12, 2009
While I agree with what you are saying, often times our lives do become too busy that we do have to take a step back to realize what is being said. However, in hindsight as a spiritual girl myself I have to throw up the question…do you think that maybe God isn’t calling you to be a person for the homeless? Maybe God is speaking to you through other poeple. Just a thought…
T Thorax O'Tool February 12, 2009
Many (perhaps most) of the homeless, especially during these hard times, don’t want pity.
And like it or not, tattooed or not, those of us of the younger-persuasion who even give the appearance of being yuppie-ish are perceived as out of touch, being on another planet and only making contact with them to stoke our ballooning self-righteousness.
It’s unfortunate, but true. When you’re down that low, even the good folk who populate the middle class and especially those who populate the upper class are viewed with suspicion.
And can you blame them? When a working man can’t feed his family but some crook of a banker swindles their way to wealth, there is a big problem.
Maybe I’m generalizing, but that absolutely was the prevailing attitude in the late 90s at the Salvation Army shelter over on 6th ave.
A Adam Ydstie February 12, 2009
That Girl @2
Thanks for reading. I think that is the conclusion I have come to. It was my experience walking home that connected my inability to listen in the rest of my life. It helped me see that in other areas of my life I do not listen very well.
TO’T @3
I completely agree, like I said above, this was just an experience that slapped me upside the head and told me to open my ears in other areas of my life.
I think the prevailing attitude you experienced in the 90’s is the same prevailing attitude today. Sad, but true. I guess my question is how can we build a relationship, not to balloon our self righteousness, but out of truly wanting to know a person’s story? Maybe I naive… and I’ll own that, but it is worth asking the question right?
I I'm for Change (for tacoma) February 12, 2009
Great question Adam. I’ve lived in many a city with homeless folks. I was used to saying hi, maybe have a quick conversation, and/or acknowledging their presence as the situation allowed. I wasn’t doing this to “stoke my ballooning self-righteousness”. Guess my parents didn’t buy into the don’t-talk-to-strangers line. anyway…
Once I arrived here, working/living downtown, I found I usually got no response back. If I did get some return answer, I often wished I hadn’t based on the verbal sewage being thrown at me. So over time, I just stopped.
I thought maybe it had to do with living in a colder climate, but that doesn’t jive with other places. dunno… Maybe it’s just a quirk of Tacoma.
K KAC February 12, 2009
I can only speak for myself. I tend to be a bit stand-offish and will sometimes completely not respond to people in really quick interactions (such as hellos on the street while walking in the opposite direction). I’m not particularly interested in that type of communication. And I think that’s fine.
I am more interested in a conversation/relationship building organically out of a common interest or shared space. If you want to talk to me, meet me where I am and stay awhile.
J Jesse February 12, 2009
I used to avoid contact wih strangers quite a bit. Then one day, I was out with my dad, who’s a really talkative guy, and I watched him interact with complete strangers. He just treated them as if he had known them all his life. Some strangers responded well while others gave the non-verbal stop sign to him. All-in-all, I noticed how much fun he had while he was out and about because he genuinely enjoyed people. I had an appifany(sp?) that those who have a problem with your nice-ness or concern are the ones with the problem —- not the person being nice.
Keep being nice Adam.
M Melanie February 12, 2009
Interesting observations by all. Having grown up in NY, I hope for all who believe that Tacomans are stand-offish, never try saying hello to someone on the street on the other coast. You’ll be offended, and probably assumed to be a mugger. I have my own observation and contribution. In my short 2.5 block walk from my car to my office in downtown Tacoma, I regularly greet people in the morning and on the walk back to the car. Those who respond to my hello, make eye contact, and smile are primarily those who look to have housing/food/substance issue challenges. Those people dressed like me: business attire, tend to look away, not respond, or look as if I’ve interrupted their day in some offensive way. Granted, we tend to not know what’s going on with the person that we’ve just encountered. Maybe they’ve just received some bad news; maybe they’ve lost someone close to them; or maybe they’re not one to interact with strangers. Whatever the case, go easy with the generalizing.
T Thorax O'Tool February 13, 2009
I’ve had good results being friendly, regardless of the age/race/gender I’ve talked to.
I do tend to get the silent look of death from the elusive Luxurycar havacus and the closely related species Expensivecondo ownerus.
But aside from those rare animals, I still stand by the fact that Tacoma is the biggest little town you’ll ever find. It really is, you constantly meet people you know, and have known for years, all over town.
There are also people like my sister, who I swear really do know ever person in this city.
S Sandy February 13, 2009
I am finding that awareness takes practice, putting together what you see and hear takes understanding, and being sensitive to what is needed or what is appropriate requires wisdom, and often, courage. Sometimes “hello” just doesn’t cut it. I wish I were better at all of the above—just to make the most of my days I guess. Many times I just say nothing, and think a prayer up to heaven, “Lord, restore.”
Z ZOMG February 13, 2009
There is no god.
S Sandy February 13, 2009
There was a time when that was easy for me to say, too. I’ve since had to recant due to experiences no one stands a chance at invalidating. I can’t take your mantra from you, you can’t take my prayers from me. No hard feelings. Just love.