Below this post is a video that I recorded back in January, 2020. Craig agreed to be interviewed and talk about what it’s like to be homeless.
I shove a paper bag full of leftover bread and sandwiches from work. It rips, so I move them to my beach bag. I leave my house in Fitzroy, all set to walk down Smith St towards the CBD, giving out food to any homeless people I see. My friend Connor calls me from Cromwell, NZ, and he’s enthusiastically telling me about his business plans. I have to keep cutting him off, saying things like
“hey, do you want this baguette?”
Confused, he thinks I’m talking to my housemates. When he hears what’s really going on, he laughs and calls me Robin Hood.
I don’t even make it halfway down Smith St. I lay the first breadstick on a filthy pile of blankets. The guy who usually lays on them is MIA. I would’ve liked to have reassured him that the bread is fresh from today, but I doubt he’d give two hoots. There’s no time to waste. I’m on a mission to ‘save the streets,’ obviously. I have a spring in my step as usual.
I remind myself that I’ve walked these streets so many times before, moving quickly with my headphones in, (probably smiling at some message that’s pinged on some group chat.) Hearing muffled voices coming from below my knees, and walking straight by. Ignorance is bliss, or something like that.
I give the second bread stick to a woman who is staggering out of the 7-Eleven. She appears to be following another woman and a young boy. I feel like a knob waving the stick around as I walk towards her and ask if she wants it, and she catches her balance to look at me for a second. A feat I’d say, based on how cooked she looks. Although she’s probably thinking the same about me. Here’s a young (ish) girl wearing an askew disposable medical mask, some sort of floral kimono, holding a fuck-off tote bag with the Ganesha elephant on it. She’s probably tempted to hit me over the head with it or ask if I have any ciggies. Instead, she smiles and takes it, thanking me. I gesture into the bag and say I have more, and she points towards a guy leaning against a shop window. “My uncle might. Thank you.”
He’s on the phone and I hear him say the words “centrelink payment” (you can’t script this shit.) I mouth to him something about a sandwich, holding my arm out with it. He looks up from the ground, takes it, and says thank you.
I’m feeling like part of me would’ve been butt-hurt if they’d rejected my offer, and I’m happy that it’s the end of the breadstick and not my head that’s been chewed off. Connor is buzzing in my ear about WordPress, how he bumped into his ex, and how he’s sick of talking about fitness and diets. I make an “mmm” noise to agree with the last part, because, well - I do, and to show I’m still listening.
I stop at a few more blanket spots, placing the baguettes carefully amongst other misc items. I start thinking about how it may have been better to have bought at least some sort of dip, to go with the bread. I start imagining a full-blown platter, or cheeseboard. Next time I could bring some tupperware filled with hors d'oeuvres. I’m getting carried away. A girl’s gotta pay her bills.
I spot a guy outside an op shop. He sees me and tells me he likes my elephant bag.
“Oh thanks, yeah, it’s cool hey, it’s actually from...” and then I catch myself.
“Do you want a sandwich?” The guy looks really surprised. He smiles at me.
“Yeah!”
When I get home, I shut the door and sink into the couch with my empty bag, wondering what I’m going to make for dinner.
“How’d that go?” Asher, my housemate and best friend asks.
“Just, wow,” I say.
I’m not even sure what I achieved. Did any of this help at all? I feel deflated. I get a wave of agitation, thinking about the times I’ve heard people say stuff like,
“they don’t want food, just want your money for booze and drugs.”
I’ve never been turned down giving out food. I’ve never been turned down for talking to someone on the streets, either. And then it hits me. It’s not really ‘things’ they want, though there’s no doubt those things would be nice. It’s other things. Like talking. Acknowledgement. I think that’s all it is. The smallest gesture. It all starts with acknowledgement.