In our walk this week with Joe we met 2 ordinary men, Jamie and Daniel. I sit down on the sidewalk outside one of the shelters to speak with a slender man in his mid-40's. He lies on a piece of cardboard in the afternoon sun. He doesn't want me to take his picture but he tells me it is ok if I tell his story. He's here for surgery and staying at the shelter - he needs a skin graft. The left side of his neck is wrapped in white gauze and I note that his head is also wrapped as a small amount of gauze is peeping out from under his cap. He's in a considerable amount of pain and says to me: "I'm my own worst enemy!" and laughs. I get it. He knows he should be in the hospital. But it is a beautiful afternoon and he has a feeling that they will turn him away if he shows there. His surgery isn't for a week and he is here for a few tests before his admission.
He knows about the options on the streets - where he can get a meal, where Street Health is located, and the clinics. He talks about his kids, his ex-wife, his struggle with past addictions, his disability. I know so much about him in 20 minutes. He has piercing blue eyes and laughs easily. And he's been in and out of hard places. But he doesn't want that anymore - he wants a life where he can be with his kids, where he can have connections to other people, and a community. When he shifts his position on the sidewalk I see him wince. He is legally licensed to smoke marijuana for his pain - it does help. But on the streets it can also make him a target for violence. I know why he is here, I understand his words, but on a structural level, I wonder why a man in need of surgery is laying on cardboard on the streets of downtown Toronto?
We continue on our walk. Outside the Gateway a bed is being moved; Jim is chatting with some guys from Sanctuary and we are getting ready to take some photographs. I have to admit that most of the day I am talking with people on the streets, not modeling "how" to take shots. But that's ok. Kevin shouts out that someone is eating from a garbage can. I tell him that maybe I'll go across and ask the person to stop - it is really quite dangerous to eat from a garbage bin. You can
become seriously ill. Kevin is a bit worried - "but what if he's dangerous Nancy?" I tell him that I'll assess the situation and Kevin decides he'll join me for backup."Hi, you look pretty hungry." He looks up and keeps eating, smiling in agreement. I suggest that he could get sick and he stops, saying he has a job interview the next day. He graciously extends his arm to the curb and invites Kevin and me to sit down and chat. We do. Turns out he is from the Kawartha Lakes region, a gorgeous spot. He has been homeless for 5 years and was recently housed. Problem is that he is also trying to get off the serious drugs and there are dealers located on either side of his bachelor apartment. Another problem is that his apartment has no bed, no sheets, pillows, pillow cases, towels, toilet paper, dishes, pots for cooking, or cutlery. He can't call this housing a home. He also doesn't have a phone, can't afford it - to make or receive calls to schedule the delivery of a bed. Again I understand why people choose the streets over the housing our society is providing them...
