{"id":1630,"date":"2022-12-16T23:19:01","date_gmt":"2022-12-17T04:19:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/?p=1630"},"modified":"2022-12-16T23:20:25","modified_gmt":"2022-12-17T04:20:25","slug":"the-immigrant-a-homeless-tale-of-a-foster-kid","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/2022\/12\/16\/the-immigrant-a-homeless-tale-of-a-foster-kid\/","title":{"rendered":"The Immigrant: A Homeless Tale of a Foster Kid"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

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The feeling of devastation and helplessness kept growing as time closed in on my 18th birthday. Now I understand the excitement around turning eighteen, given that is marks the start of adulthood and all. However, this birthday was no milestone for me. I was well aware that as soon as I turned eighteen, I would no longer be eligible to live in the group home that I spent the last year living in. Although it wasn’t a place that I could call home, it provided shelter and food for me, something I never took for granted. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Photo by Ozan Kose\/Agence France-Presse \u2014 Getty Images<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

I would like to introduce myself… My name is Jafar Hussien. I am an immigrant that was placed in the foster care system after my mother lost her battle with cancer. My father was never around, I have never met nor spoke to him. All of my close family members live overseas. I moved to the United States at somewhat of a young age. My home country of Iraq was not a safe living environment for my mother and I as we were in the midst of war upon departure. Now that you know a little about me, I’m going to take you through my journey and the struggles I faced in my transition from my teenage years to my adulthood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two weeks after my eighteenth birthday, I received the unfortunate news that I had been dreading to hear… I was no longer allowed to live in the group home. At first, I reached out to a friend from the home that had previously been adopted. He was about two years younger than me, but we were close friends. His family offered me room in their home for about a month to help me get on my feet. I was beyond grateful for the opportunity and looked to seize it by finding a job and saving up some money to help build myself a future. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as simple as I anticipated. Most places that I applied to work at never responded. Whenever I was able to land an interview, questions of my living situation would arise. Initially, I didn’t think this would be an issue for a young adult willing to work long hours just to make ends meet. I guess it’s different in the eyes of employers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

To them I am someone young who is lost with no sense of direction in life. A person that is not responsible enough to ensure his own living situation. A person that seems to be unable to commit to something so basic. I was devastated. How could they not see that I was willing to give them everything that I got? Without a mode of transportation, I was running out of businesses nearby to apply to, and I had overstayed my welcome at my friend’s home. I would have asked to stay for a longer period of time, but it seemed like they had given up on me as well. I was getting treated worse and worse everyday. There were days towards the end of my stay where I felt completely unwelcome. They stopped inviting me to eat dinner with them, avoided starting small talk as if it was a way for them to show that they were not pleased with my stay. So I decided to not be a bother any longer and left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Photo by Mario Tama\/Getty Images<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Nothing could have prepared me for what would happen to me after I left my friends home. The first night I had to spend living on the street. Tattered underneath my only blanket, next to my small backpack containing all of my belongings. I felt downhearted. I had nowhere to go, no idea on what to do next, and very little money to help me survive a few nights. One thing that hit me hard was the treatment I was getting from people. It was like I was not even there. People would walk by and not give me a single second thought. Some people would give me dirty looks, while others would simply walk all over and kick my backpack. Why are they being so rude? I don\u2019t even know these people! I had a small cup set next to me in hopes someone would bare the heart to leave me a few coins. Unfortunately, most people just ignored me and continued on with their day. Even the people that did leave some coins did not want to talk to me. Any person that left any money in my cup I tried talking to. I was looking for quite literally anything that can get me going. I felt like a ghost. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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My first night on the street I was woken up by a kick on the leg. I was surprised, I thought I was invisible. To add onto my surprise, the person that had awakened me was a police officer. Did this police officer feel bad for me and want to help me out? I found out almost immediately that it was not the reason he came up to me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t sleep here\u201d he yelled to me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I explained to him my situation and that I had nowhere to go to which he replied, \u201cif you stay here I will have to arrest you, it is not allowed for you to sleep here\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Arrest me?” I thought to myself, “why am I being treated like a criminal?”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Photo by Gregory Bull<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The look on my face must have made him realize how desperate of a situation I was in. \u201cThere\u2019s a homeless shelter two miles away, you can sleep there for the night\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe he does want to help me. I was unfamiliar with homeless shelters as I was still somewhat new to the country and did not know all of the resources that were available to me. Nevertheless, I finally had some hope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I arrived at the homeless shelter with widened eyes and a spirit full of hope. Unexpectedly, I found out that this homeless shelter has a curfew. Not only that, but you would have to apply to get in. Almost as if they do not believe you are homeless and are just begging to steal resources from them. I also came to find out that these applications can take days, even weeks to get approved which means I have to spend a few nights on the street regardless. With all this new information, I made my way back to the streets and made not sure not to go near a public area so I could stay away from the shame of the public and the law. I did not want any trouble with the law. It is the last thing that I need as it would make finding a job even harder. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few days went by with me living on the street. I always made sure to move from one spot to another to avoid police officers. Around my 4th day on the street, I started to face more serious problems. I was running low on money, with the money that was being thrown into my small cup not being enough to sustain me through the day. I was beginning to starve, cutting my meals into barely one full meal a day. My clothes were getting dirtier and I couldn’t recall the last time I had taken a nice warm shower. Of course I had not stopped job hunting, but the fact that I do not look nor smell presentable really held me back from pushing harder into finding a job. My main concern was to provide enough food and water for myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By the end of my first week on the streets I was drained, both physically and mentally. I knew that I couldn\u2019t stay like this for much longer. I had to take action, I was never really the person to sit back and give up. I just didn\u2019t have a clue in the world what to do. My frustration grew bigger and bigger. Everyday I ate less, my hygiene was getting worse and the weather started to get colder. I checked back with the homeless shelter only to find out that they had lost my application. The only option they gave me was to fill out another application and go through the waiting process all over again. At this point I was livid. Not even a homeless shelter cares about me. The one place that is supposed to help people who are in desperate need doesn’t even have the correct resources to ensure that would be possible. I just wanted to sleep on a bed and not on a cold, hard sidewalk. On top of all of that, I was down to my last few bucks. I had no money, no place to sleep, and no clean clothes. There was no hope left inside of me, only anger that was growing bigger by the minute. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Photo by Caroline Patrickis\/ABC7<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
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As my last resort, I began walking into department stores begging for any help. Whether it was food, water, clothing items to keep me warm, or even small amounts of money. Unfortunately, nobody wanted to help me. I walked into one last store that looked like it was a small family owned business in hopes that they would have empathy for me. I asked the guy behind the counter if he could help me in any way. I even offered to work at the store for a small wage. He took a quick glance at me and bursted out in laughter.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou look disgusting and smell even worse, get out of my store before I beat the hell out of you\u201d. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can\u2019t say I was shocked anymore. I could feel myself pervade with rage. I don\u2019t deserve this type of treatment. I have been nothing but kind to people my whole life and now I’m getting treated like I’m worthless, as if I’m not even a human being. In one sentence I was humiliated, threatened and harassed. This stranger had no right to treat me like garbage. He is no better than I am. As a matter of fact, I think I’m a better person than him. If someone came to me asking for help, I would do everything in my power to help them. I didn\u2019t even respond to him. I simply walked out of the store, but I knew I was coming back, and this time it would be without good intentions. I was tired of being dismissed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sat nearby the store and waited until they closed. An hour later, I walked to the front of the store with a convenient brick that I found. I was going to make sure that I took everything I could from that store. I was craving a sense of control. I smashed the glass door, reached in and unlocked it from the inside. Alarms went off as soon as the brick broke through the glass. I rushed into the store faster than the adrenaline that was rushing through my body. For some reason, I went straight to the beef jerky. Old habits die hard. So many snacks and drinks, it felt like a kid in a candy store once again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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As I was stocking up on beef jerky and sodas, money crossed my mind. I was like Mr. Krabs with dollar signs for eyes. I smirked a little as the thought of having over a hundred dollars hadn\u2019t crossed my mind in forever. As soon as I reached for the register, I heard the sirens close by. I’m not moving fast enough. Trying to get the register unlocked didn\u2019t seem to be a reasonable use of my time so I grabbed the brick and tried smashing it open. It wouldn\u2019t open. I desperately tried over and over but nothing was happening. Next thing I knew, a cop is pointing his gun at me. Here I am today, writing my story as I serve my three year robbery sentence.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Photo by Shutterstock<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Image Sources<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Photo by Gregory Bull: https:\/\/www.police1.com\/chiefs-sheriffs\/articles\/lessons-learned-from-25-years-of-policing-the-homeless-gasUkFoPcwEBEAAT\/<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Photo by Ozan Kose\/Agence France-Presse \u2014 Getty Images: https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2020\/10\/18\/us\/politics\/trump-refugees-iraq-afghanistan.html<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Photo by Caroline Patrickis\/ABC7<\/em>: https:\/\/wjla.com\/news\/local\/dc-restaurant-feeds-the-poor-and-homeless-every-single-day<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Photo by Shutterstock: https:\/\/www.latintimes.com\/homeless-man-chooses-jail-rather-take-chances-sleeping-outdoors-during-cold-spell-465090<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Photo by Mario Tama\/Getty Images: https:\/\/www.urban.org\/urban-wire\/homelessness-blame-game<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The feeling of devastation and helplessness kept growing as time closed in on my 18th birthday. Now I understand the excitement around turning eighteen, given that is marks the start of adulthood and all. However, this birthday was no milestone for me. I was well aware that as soon as I turned eighteen, I would Read More …<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4229,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1630","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fa22-illuminations"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1630","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4229"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1630"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1630\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1664,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1630\/revisions\/1664"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1630"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1630"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1630"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}