Homeless Woman-Personal Narrative

As Greg blew into his saxophone, the sad song wafted out into the auditorium. He began to remember his past, his parents dying, him becoming homeless and finding a saxophone on the street and learning how to play it without no help, people throwing money in the bucket when Greg’s playing the saxophone. Thanking the man who heard him playing the instrument on the street and made him an artist, and making him the man he is today, the life he never expected. Going through all the incidents he went through his life, the bad times of him sleeping on the streets, no food, begging on the streets playing the saxophone. Greg is 45 today, it is Greg’s last concert and his birthday, he is dressed up in a black suit with a red tie, his bald head shining

As a consequence of the government’s extreme funding cut and ignorance of social responsibility, the UN Committee has suggested that Canada should consider homelessness as a “national emergency” (Giles, 3). To examine the implications of neoliberalism on the issue of homeless mothers in Canada, Giles uses the technique of misrepresentation and concealment; which is one of the Shore and Trnka’s peripheral vision techniques, requiring critical eyes to capture the hegemonic curtains and the concealed matters (Shore and Trnka, 31).

In this paper, I will focus on the topic of why veterans are coming back homeless. Veterans are seen as a savior of the country they are risking their lives for every day, so why is it that they are coming back from tours and service and ultimately ending up homeless? Since 2009 the United States stated that in five years they would end veteran homeless, but the United States is still facing veteran homelessness in the year 2017. Though the homeless rates of veterans have gone down since then, why are veterans still facing homelessness if so many resources are supposed to be available for them. Is there more than meets the eye when it comes to homelessness especially with veterans, yes. Many things can attribute to this continuing issue such as lack of assistances provided, mental illnesses, PTSD, lack or loss of support from being deployed, the use of drugs and alcohol as coping strategies, and the economics.

jas boothe shows me a around a nine bedroom three story house in Alexandria Virginia.

Although people tend to pass homeless people on street corners every day without batting an eye, it must be realized that the homeless are our neighbors and deserve someone who will show them compassion to ease the suffering they face on a daily basis. It seems as though we have become desensitized to what it really means to be homeless. Although it is common to see multiple homeless people in Denver on any given day, the general public doesn’t often think about what it would feel like to be cold and hungry, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Many

Today, if we see a multitude of skin on the road settled, that there is nothing strange. In fact, according to The State of Homelessness in America 2013, 610,042 people were experiencing homelessness; as the result, we can see a significant number through that report. Due to that reason, many charities have been established to be able to help the homelessness. According to me, one of the charities that I appreciate is Thomas House which is an Orange County non-profit organization for homeless because it provide a safe, supportive environment and the resources necessary for homeless families with children while empowering them to become independent and self-sufficient.

We currently have over a half a million people, a quarter of which are children, living on the streets. Those are numbers we should all feel ashamed of, god knows I do, which is why I have taken in so many over the years. But, even as your beloved Dictator, I can't take them all in personally, so we're going to have to do this wholesale. Now, before we begin, I want to address a few things about being homeless.

The score was tied 2:2, and the clock was winding down like a time bomb. I had the ball. I dribbled it past the halfway line on the left side of the field, and saw my teammate who I will call Bob on the other side of the field. Bob was slower than a turtle, and he would not have the speed necessary to beat the defense, so instead of passing to him, I booted the ball as hard as I could, towards the opposing goal. The ball curved towards the right, and hit the top left corner of the net. I had scored!

Miranda C. Watkins usually I send a private email to those who are leaving the Homeless Program... in my 19 years of working here, truly I find joy in getting to know and work with you. We built a trust that I pray will last for years to come and hopefully out paths will one day cross again...

As a child, I grew up many places, my dad’s old job moved us around a lot. I was born in Hayward, Ca. and moved to Red Bluff as a baby and stayed until I was like 5 or 6. Then I moved to Taylor, Arizona and lived there until I was 8. I moved to The Dalles, Oregon and turned 9 shortly after, we lived at the very top of Oregon, right next to the Washington border. I could see Washington driving down certain streets, but by the time I was 10 I had been somewhat homeless. I lived in a car with my 3 other siblings and parents for a month or so. It wasn’t like it was horrible, we never slept in the car. We stopped at motels and we drove highway 101, because we were struggling and the beach solves everything.

As a kid I had always lived in well diversified areas. I didn't care who you were or what you looked like, I was raised to treat everyone the same. I wasn't personally exposed to the idea of inequality until I was in middle school. I had always imagined that everyone just had jobs and lived their daily lives. I didn't quite grasp the extent of the idea that people can die, be homeless, be criminals, or racists. I also didn't grasp how great the people of our society can be. That was until my parents told me about the first times they had in America coming from Mexico. I don't remember what I said or did to provoke these stories, but they were surely eye opening.

Jerry waves as he walks toward me, a cup of coffee in his hand. He looks cleaner than normal and wears a bright, broad smile. Today appears to be a good day for him. They weren’t always good days and sometimes it was hard to tell what sort of mood you’d be on the receiving end of. I have been running into Jerry off and on throughout the past couple of months that I have been working with the homeless outreach in my town. Sometimes what he said was meaningful and deep, with great clarity. Other times I could barely understand what he was talking about; it all came out as mumbles and gibberish.

As a kid, I never really paid attention to what blessings were, in fact, it didn't even cross my mind. I grew up in a small house, with my parents and my sister. We loved to walk around a lot and most of the time we would come across homeless people. It was like a routine of ours that we would always give back to the people less fortunate. I remember as I was walking one day with my mom, we came across an old homeless lady and my mom gave her 20 dollars. We were lucky enough to have that much change left after shopping for food and we decided it would be kind to give it to someone else, but this lady was very different from most homeless people. She had bright neon pink nails, gray hair that would create an ombré effect almost as if she got it done, she took the money we gave

My friends often describe me as a cynic and a pessimist. For the most part, they're right. Sentiment loses value when it permeates one's attitudes and behavior just as the value of a commodity decreases as it becomes ubiquitous, so as a rule I reserve expressing sentiment for rare occasions that I deem worthy. Fortunately, even the harshest cynics are surprised sometimes.

I hear them get closer and closer as the porch creaks every step to the door. My heart feels like its pounding through my chest, and sweat is pouring off my face as I sprint in a panic. I hear the key turning and the door opening just as I jump out the window.