The story of Samuel K. by Talia Belowich
“Sweety don’t get too close, he might be dangerous.” A woman who looks to be in her mid-thirties yell-whispers to her daughter.
‘Who might be dangerous?’ I mumble to myself. They’re the only ones on this street.
Then I realize what’s happening. The girl with the sparkly headband pinches a brown paper bag and sticks it out in front of her — right into my face. I shimmy my back a little straighter against the wall and take inventory of my appearance. I think about what I must look like. It’s been two weeks since Lara kicked me out, meaning it’s been two weeks since I shaved or showered. I run my fingers through the scruff on my chin and my matted hair.
This child looks at me and doesn’t see a virtual pharmaceutical representative, a University of Michigan honors graduate, or a respectable fiance. She sees a filthy, stereotypical homeless man.
My present is my past and future, by Samuel K.
My past is abhorred,
My future ignored
My present is all that they see.
The lawyer turned unemployed
Is only unemployed
When asked about his profession.
The homeowner turned unhoused
Is only unhoused
When asked for his address.
My past is abhorred,
My future ignored
My present is all that they see.
For the first few days after Lara kicked me out, I slept in our front yard. She wouldn’t let me in to use the bathroom, arguing that I already shit all over her life by cheating. After almost a week of that, it started to get cold. I had no idea how to find shelter. One day I tried to get back inside to grab my credit card, phone, and some cash. I waited until she was at work, and manually lifted the garage. Unfortunately for me, she remembered to lock the basement door.
The only place I could think to go next was the nearest public facility. That just so happened to be the Ann Arbor public library. I walked into the library bathroom and, when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the face staring back. My eyelids were puffier than I’ve ever seen them, my cheeks streaked with dirty tears. there was dirt on my neck, and snot on my cheek. I was a mess.
People seem to think that just because I cheated means I no longer cared for Lara. That’s not true; I cheated because I cared. It had been a long couple of months trying to get pregnant. She was becoming depressed because her ovaries were “inhospitable” and I was getting depressed because she was no longer attentive in our relationship. So I did the practical thing, and tried to find a surrogate. I thought I’d surprise her with a child. Is that not the most caring gesture you’ve ever heard?
I try and try, by Samuel K.
I tried so hard to do the right thing
But apparently my gift was adultery.
I don’t see it that way
My gift was a child, a life, a birth.
Sex was simply the vehicle for which
That birth, that life, that child
Came about.
I would do anything to make my wife happy
No matter how unhappy it makes her.
I guess that’s the problem.
After washing my face and mouth in the sink, I walked over to the library computer. After opening my email to a notice from my boss telling me that I’m fired for missing two consecutive weeks of work without informing anyone, I typed in: “Nearest food bank.”
That’s how I end up here.
I grab the paper bag from the girl and snap it open. A can of rice. No can opener. A motivational sticker that says “Yes you can :)” and a sandwich with Ham, tomato and some sort of white sauce. I guess I’m a carnivore now!
“Thank you dear,” I say. “Stay safe, don’t do drugs.” The mother puts her hand on her child’s back and ushers her away. I chuckle to myself.
It’s been a long couple of days. The food bank that I tried to go to was closed by the time I got there, so I had to wait outside until the morning. When I finally got inside, I stuffed everything I could find in a bag as quickly as possible. I wanted to shout “I don’t belong here! I’m not one of you!” But the truth is, I need that place just as much as anyone else, maybe even more. I’m unhoused and, as hard as that is to accept, it’s now my reality and I need to make it work.
Since then, I’ve been staying in a park pretty close by so that I can get food when I need it. The park is also located about a half mile away from a public restroom. It turns out, getting my basic needs met is exhausting. But, what’s even worse is how I feel once those needs are met. When you’re homeless and unemployed there’s NOTHING to do. There’s nowhere to go, nobody to talk to. It’s boring, but worst of all, it’s depressing. I feel so hopeless.
Boredom – by Samuel K.
I finger the tears in my torn up socks
And I sit and I mope
Waiting for the hours to pass
Life is bleak
Every day of the week
Is another that has to
[grass? Sass? What words rhyme with pass?]
More boredom
I think I’m going to start a diary.
Yes, “The Chronicles of Homelessness”
All of the pages can be void of words
But the tear and dirt stains will be enough
Even more boredom
Somebody is approaching.
I’ll be back later. Goodbye.
“Hi! Would you like a newspaper?” I look up to find a woman approaching me. Wrinkly skin, black work pants, and the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen.
“Sure, thanks.” Finally, something to fill the boredom.
“Two dollars please!” She holds out her hand. Does it look like I have two dollars? I’m honestly sort of flattered.
“I don’t have cash on me, sorry.”
“Oh that’s okay, we take venmo, paypal –”
“Sorry, I should have specified. I don’t have cash on me because I don’t have any money at all.” That should get her to go away.
“Oh! Well, are you a writer?”
Why is this woman still standing here? “As a matter of fact, yes! I just started my very own journal series called ‘what does a homeless guy have to do to be left alone.’”
“Very clever name,” she says. “Well if you’re looking to earn some extra cash, you should submit some of your stuff to our street paper. We’re always looking for new contributors.”
Oh, she’s serious. I sit up straighter and try to smooth out my hair. “That sounds excellent! I don’t have a phone though so how can I reach you?”
She hands me a slip of paper with the address of the street paper headquarters, and the contact information of someone named Lindsay. I try to conceal my excitement as she walks away. Then I open back up my journal. Wait till Lara sees me now!
I’ve survived – by Samuel K.
It seems as though
It’s my turn to shine.
The fog is lifting
I’ve survived
Analysis
I tried to combat the stereotypes of homelessness through my character, while still incorporating some of the common barriers that many homeless people face. For example, I made Samuel a bit delusional, as reflected by his reason for cheating. I didn’t want the reader to automatically feel bad for my character just because he is homeless. It gives a story more dimension if the main character is a little bit evil and a little bit good.
The reason I included the scene where Samuel receives a donation bag, is to highlight the mismatch between what is so often needed about what is given. Something we discussed in class is that people so often donate canned goods, yet so few homeless people have access to can openers. People also frequently donate perishable food that cannot be taken by homeless people with allergies, or by any established food bank or corporation. In a report done by the EPA, it was found that 84% of all donated clothing ends up in landfills (Souza, 2022). We discussed in class how a large demographic of the homeless population wear XL or XXL sized clothing. There is a large mismatch between what is donated and what is needed.
I also included that Samuel’s socks are torn in the poem, to emphasize how quickly socks get destroyed when you’re walking around all day. I incorporated that the food bank was closed when he arrived in order to show the consequences of the complicated schedules that homeless resources and shelters have, and the inaccess that homeless people have to these schedules. Lastly, I decided to incorporate GroundCover news to demonstrate how excellent street papers are for providing homeless people with purpose, hope, and a real chance to get back on their feet.
Sources
Armata, S. (2020). A little bit more cloud cover made for a stunning orange and blue sunset. How to predict a picture-perfect sunrise/sunset! Retrieved from https://www.nbc12.com/2020/09/02/how-predict-picture-perfect-sunrisesunset/.
The Common Wealth Fund. (2014). In Focus: Using Housing to Improve Health and Reduce the Costs of Caring for the Homeless. Retrieved from https://www.commonwealthfund.org/publications/newsletter-article/2014/oct/focus-using-housing-improve-health-and-reduce-costs-caring.
Williams, T. (2021). The Robert J. Delonis Center on Huron Street in Ann Arbor provides temporary shelter and essential services to people experiencing homelessness. The Washtenaw Voice. The Washtenaw Community College. Retrieved from https://www.washtenawvoice.com/2021/03/04/despite-the-covid-19-pandemic-fewer-people-are-experiencing-homelessness-in-washtenaw-county/.
Souza, A. D. (2022, November 28). This is what really happens to your used clothing donations. Reader’s Digest. Retrieved December 16, 2022, from https://www.rd.com/article/what-happens-used-clothing-donations/
Springs, A. G. (2014). State law bans “begging in a public place.”. Michigan Radio. Retrieved from https://www.michiganradio.org/education/2014-02-10/ann-arbor-based-non-profit-is-dedicated-to-building-links-between-homeless-homeful.
Stanton, R. (2015). MLive. BY THE NUMBERS: A QUICK LOOK AT THE ANN ARBOR AREA’S HOMELESS POPULATION. Community Solutions. Retrieved from https://community.solutions/press/by-the-numbers-a-quick-look-at-the-ann-arbor-areas-homeless-population/.
