Two weeks and counting until departure and my head is spinning. Whoever came up with the sick idea of telling someone to attempt to pack for a whole year with a possibility of any and all climates and under an unknown multitude of possible living conditions was seriously sadistic. I am totally out of my element, and no packing blog (no matter how detailed) is going to change that. I like to call this stage of the Race: Challenge #1 “Say goodbye to all your attachments to your appearance” (more challenges soon to come).
Ok, ok so this introduction was a bit dramatic, but I believe it does paint a pretty accurate picture of my current emotions. It may seem superficial now, but I’m left wondering what will I be forced to leave behind? Of course, I don’t mean my favorite leather jacket or my chest full of jewelry that simply won’t fit into my 85 Liter pack (regrettably), but in all seriousness, what about my life? My comfort? My friends? My family? My everyday, yes I’m an America and I would like a Starbucks Frappuccino with my lunch.
About a year ago, I found myself in a similar emotional whirlwind. My time at Davidson College was quickly approaching its end and I was left wondering, what will I leave behind? I knew I wanted to leave the campus with a legacy. Bold I know, but in all honesty who doesn’t want to be remembered for something? After all, I had spent a great deal of time getting to know the world in an intimate way, and I owed it to both my Davidson community and myself to share those experiences. See, for me, I found my passion for school in my work in the community. I deciphered Economics by calculating a budget for a recent homeowner who only earned minimum wage (which by the way, is nearly impossible since minimum wage is often significantly lower than the living wage), I rediscovered History by seeing first hand the divide in access to education for the lower class and minorities, I utilized English and Communications by writing formalized grant proposals for non-profits, and I applied Psychology by counseling individuals suffering from mental illness as a result of, or exacerbated by, the plight of homelessness. I had taken my education outside the classroom just as seriously as the hours I spent pasted to my desk listening to my professors, so naturally I wanted to share the things I had learned.
Upon much deliberation (and a guiding hand from one of my internship supervisors), I decided to make a documentary. Mind you, besides lousy home videos and a few school projects, video cameras and I were mere strangers. My ability to find and press the record button captured the full extent of my videography skills (I think you get the gist). Nonetheless, I was certain a documentary on homelessness could get pretty close to the legacy I had been dreaming of.
See if you really knew me, then you’d know that my life was changed my freshman year when I experienced homelessness for 48 hours. I participated in a program where college students come to Washington DC and begin to gain an understanding of homelessness by experiencing it firsthand. The reasons I had accumulated for some sort of justification for homelessness vanished, and in their place arose an image of hardworking, loving children of God who are always worthy. It was this experience, where homelessness came alive for the true injustice that it is, that acted as a catalyst for what I would do with the remainder of my time at Davidson.
I began working and volunteering at a number of different agencies that dealt with the issue of homelessness in Charlotte, NC; trying to obtain a comprehensive view of why this issue still existed and what solutions seemed to work. It was widely apparent that one of the greatest enemies of this issue was the inaccurate stereotypes that surround it (and quite frankly, perpetuate it). The general public just doesn’t have the facts, and unfortunately the information they have about homelessness often comes from some person who has never experienced and/or spoken to someone who faced homelessness directly.
Ok, ok so this introduction was a bit dramatic, but I believe it does paint a pretty accurate picture of my current emotions. It may seem superficial now, but I’m left wondering what will I be forced to leave behind? Of course, I don’t mean my favorite leather jacket or my chest full of jewelry that simply won’t fit into my 85 Liter pack (regrettably), but in all seriousness, what about my life? My comfort? My friends? My family? My everyday, yes I’m an America and I would like a Starbucks Frappuccino with my lunch.
About a year ago, I found myself in a similar emotional whirlwind. My time at Davidson College was quickly approaching its end and I was left wondering, what will I leave behind? I knew I wanted to leave the campus with a legacy. Bold I know, but in all honesty who doesn’t want to be remembered for something? After all, I had spent a great deal of time getting to know the world in an intimate way, and I owed it to both my Davidson community and myself to share those experiences. See, for me, I found my passion for school in my work in the community. I deciphered Economics by calculating a budget for a recent homeowner who only earned minimum wage (which by the way, is nearly impossible since minimum wage is often significantly lower than the living wage), I rediscovered History by seeing first hand the divide in access to education for the lower class and minorities, I utilized English and Communications by writing formalized grant proposals for non-profits, and I applied Psychology by counseling individuals suffering from mental illness as a result of, or exacerbated by, the plight of homelessness. I had taken my education outside the classroom just as seriously as the hours I spent pasted to my desk listening to my professors, so naturally I wanted to share the things I had learned.
Upon much deliberation (and a guiding hand from one of my internship supervisors), I decided to make a documentary. Mind you, besides lousy home videos and a few school projects, video cameras and I were mere strangers. My ability to find and press the record button captured the full extent of my videography skills (I think you get the gist). Nonetheless, I was certain a documentary on homelessness could get pretty close to the legacy I had been dreaming of.
See if you really knew me, then you’d know that my life was changed my freshman year when I experienced homelessness for 48 hours. I participated in a program where college students come to Washington DC and begin to gain an understanding of homelessness by experiencing it firsthand. The reasons I had accumulated for some sort of justification for homelessness vanished, and in their place arose an image of hardworking, loving children of God who are always worthy. It was this experience, where homelessness came alive for the true injustice that it is, that acted as a catalyst for what I would do with the remainder of my time at Davidson.
I began working and volunteering at a number of different agencies that dealt with the issue of homelessness in Charlotte, NC; trying to obtain a comprehensive view of why this issue still existed and what solutions seemed to work. It was widely apparent that one of the greatest enemies of this issue was the inaccurate stereotypes that surround it (and quite frankly, perpetuate it). The general public just doesn’t have the facts, and unfortunately the information they have about homelessness often comes from some person who has never experienced and/or spoken to someone who faced homelessness directly.
Unheard Voices: Stories from the Homeless is a chance for real people to tell you their experience with homelessness. The three stories captured in this documentary however, are not universal. The stories are as varied as the people; but their pain, their struggle, and their perseverance is a theme that rings true for many.
When I looked back at my time at Davidson, I knew I wanted these important stories to be the things I left behind. In fact, the best way to truly understand me is to watch these videos, and walk in the footsteps that traced my life.
Sara Jones, Evan Carter, and I documented the stories of three chronically homeless individual’s in the process of acquiring housing. Individual stories like that of Jessie’s, Teresa’s, and Gary’s are the ones worth remembering. I hope you enjoy the thing I decided to leave behind…
Click here to hear their stories.
