"...finding myself sitting down at a bus stop on Shattuck Avenue...I came to a fairly stark realization: 'I have nowhere left to go!'"

I think it was this. I had gotten so used to only being accepted by people who were outside, and being looked down upon by people who lived inside, I couldn’t imagine them doing anything other than to look down on me, even as I played the piano.

Often, society’s expectations of unhoused people are degrading, and do nothing to help get people indoors.

Mainstream expectations make some people feel trapped on the street, Pope rights.

The pace of a “normal” life simply does not fit for some, Pope writes, and those who can’t keep up are often resigned to homelessness.

How the shame associated with homelessness can become something like a mental illness.

Even after moving inside, one may never stop "feeling" homeless—as if they might be "found out" for their past at any moment.

There’s something about a “Buck- Twenty-Five Tree” that doesn’t quite have a nice ring to it.

All we really wanted down there, any of us, was to be treated with normal human respect and dignity, and treated as equals—not as inferiors. We wanted to be listened to, we wanted our voices heard.

During many years of homelessness, I lived in a place where there is no shelter. Now that sheltering in place is required, I am living a lifestyle that is the direct opposite of my previous manner of life.

When I was homeless, I was in a constant state of shock. Now the “shocks” are only intermittent. This is the essence of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

When I was first trying to get inside, I made sure my prospective landlord wouldn’t know I had ever been homeless. Why? Simply put, I didn’t want to jeopardize my chances. It was enough to tell him I was on a fixed income, which at the time was Social Security Disability

My relationship to many things has changed since I’ve been living indoors. Obviously, my association with homelessness and with homeless

When one lives outdoors, and weather conditions are less than favorable, one sometimes wakes up freezing and soaking wet—not to mention flat broke. Under such circumstances, you can’t imagine the feeling of grati- tude that would overwhelm me as I succeeded in scraping up 63 cents for a senior cup of coffee at a Mac- Donald’s. At the store most frequented, they wouldn’t let us in if we didn’t have coffee change.

One of the many unexpected challenges that arose during my transition from homelessness to indoor living stemmed from the fact that I had simply gotten used to living outdoors. This caused many of the practices that worked for me when I was homeless to be carried over into the context of indoor living.

When one is homeless, one is by definition exposed to all kinds of elements that escape the confines of one

As the homelessness crisis worsens, cities all over the U.S. are desperately trying to come up with solutions. California, for example, is in a frenzy to build new homeless shelters that will fit thousands of new shelter beds.

Mental illness is often cited as one of the driving factors behind the growing homeless population in cities such as Berkeley and Oakland. A lack of resources for the mentally ill has led many people to the streets.

When I was homeless in the San Francisco Bay Area, I relied to a large degree on the moral support of lifelong friends and family who were not. For one reason or another, it was not feasible for any of them to let me stay in their homes for any substantial length of time.

“Does the crackhead become homeless, or does the homeless person become a crackhead?” This question was posed on the website

To say that there are not criminals roaming the streets at all hours of the day and night would do

It looks as though we’re closing in on Christmas again, folks. That’s bad news in my book, and (I daresay) in the corporal book of homeless people everywhere. Take my holiday experience several years ago, for example. I spent Christmas Day stuck out in the rain, with services closed for those of my ilk, not to mention the usual five-in-the-morning “indoor resources” being closed (Starbucks, McDonald’s, etc.).

Recently, somebody asked me if there were any particular habits left over from my homeless years that I was having

How the language we use can have harmful impacts  Once, before I had gained more savvy in the realm of

When I was homeless in the Bay Area, I had an awfully hard time getting myself to a bathroom on any kind of regular basis. It wasn’t so bad when I only had to go No.1, as we used to call it. I could usually find some kind of bush to duck behind, and the cleanup process wasn’t nearly so involved. Also, the sense of stigma or shame attached to the act of having to pee outdoors wasn’t nearly so severe as the corresponding sense of shame involved in having to go No.2.

It is a mistake to think that one’s primary aim ought to be the acquisition of great wealth. The more I love God, and the less I love money, the better off I am. It is then that my life best reflects my concern and my hope for humanity.

By and by, I calm down. I meditate. I pray. It is a beautiful day. The sun is setting. I weave my way toward the spot where I sleep, where nobody knows where to find me. I look to the stars, and say my prayers to the God who believes in Me.

All we really wanted out there on the street, any of us, was to be treated with human respect and dignity, and treated as equals, not as inferiors. We wanted to be listened to, we wanted our voices heard. But people wouldn’t listen to us. They sure talked to us though.

Imagine the hurt and pain I felt when my own brother refused to let me stay in a spare room at his house after I had become homeless. Multiply that pain by 15, when, one by one, my closest friends and family told me I could not stay with them.