Aaron: homeless, not hopeless

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Of the 8,879 homeless people in San Diego, 4,574 live ‘unsheltered’ on our streets. Approximately 10 percent of the homeless population is ‘youth’, and of that population, the youth who identify as LGBT may be as high as 40 percent. There’s been no comprehensive survey of homeless LGBT youth in San Diego since 2004, but based on the available information, there could be nearly 200 homeless LGBT youth sleeping on the streets in San Diego tonight.

I apologize for being a wet blanket on the holiday spirit, but the yule is also a time when we should consider the plight of those less fortunate and do what we can to assist.

One on those less fortunate is my friend, Aaron*.

Aaron speaks with a deep voice and a sweet Southern drawl, like a smoky, honey-baked baritone. He’s 50 years old and homeless, but not hopeless. He agreed to sit down for a conversation about his experiences.

The son of a preacher, he grew up poor in North Carolina with four older brothers and a younger sister. “My father expected us to go to church. We had a large Chevrolet, like a van. My dad would haul coal and wood, so when we’d go to church, we’d have to ride on chunks of wood or coal. But church itself was like going to my second family. Everybody knew everybody.”

Aaron does not consider himself to be homeless. “I am a citizen of this planet, so in my eyes, I’m always home, but I’m not always ‘sheltered’. Homeless is not the word I would use, but it’s the word people understand.”

Lance Ryder: What was it like coming out to your family?

Aaron: I came out when I was 21. My boyfriend at the time was threatening to out me to my family, which I felt was very wrong; that was my decision. I told my mom first. We were sitting at the breakfast table and I said I had something I wanted to tell her. She said, “What is it son?” I said, “I’m gay.” That spoonful of grits hovered midway between the bowl and her mouth for a few seconds, and then she said, “But you don’t look gay.” (Laughs). So we talked about it and then she said, “You’re still my son and it makes no difference to me.” And that was the sentiment from all my family that nothing’s changed and they still loved me.

What brought you across the country from North Carolina to San Diego?

My family had a set of encyclopedias, and being knowledge driven, I studied all through it. I read about San Diego, and something about the name struck a sense of destiny in me. Since about age 4 or 5, I always knew I would be here in San Diego. I’ve suffered from allergies since age 12, and when I first got here to go to school, my allergies were arrested, and it just confirmed my sense that I needed to be here to be healthy.

How long have you been in San Diego?

On and off since 1993. I was bouncing back and forth between here and back East, working and gaining experience. I moved back here in 1997 to be with my boyfriend. We eventually broke up and I really wasn’t prepared. And that’s the first time I experienced being homeless.

What was that like?

I was on the streets for about three weeks. That first night was something. I knew about places down of Fifth Avenue and C Street, but there was a lot of drugs and yelling, and the fear of being bothered for whatever reason. I heard about a place called God’s Extended Hand where they might give you a place to sleep, but I could never get in. So I slept outside, right under the feet of Jesus. Found out later (chuckles) that same church had been hit by gang members and they shot it up. Had I known that, I probably would have found some place else to sleep. But God is good all the time and I managed to survive until I could get into a shelter.

I moved back and forth between San Diego and North Carolina, working various jobs, until arriving here most recently last May. I really wasn’t prepared for my move back to San Diego. I thought I’d be able to find work here easily, but it never worked out that way.

Tell us what it’s like living in a shelter. Is there a separate area for LGBT residents?

Men and women lived in separate areas of the tent. There were a number of out LGBT people living there, too, and it was sometimes difficult for them.

Did you feel safe living in the tent?

At first, it was better than living on the street. When I moved back to San Diego in May, I only spent one night on the street. My father died May 9 and that was the day I moved into the tent. There’s a lottery and everybody waits and they take your name and give you a number. They hold a drawing and if your number comes up, then you’re in. My number was drawn that day, so I felt my father was watching over me. I got into the shelter and that was safer than being on the streets because I didn’t have to worry about anybody running up on me, trying to rob me, or to do me harm. There were about 270 people living in the tent, mostly men. They only guaranteed that you’d be provided dinner. There was a nurse that would come by and Social Services on certain days. They had Internet service. They had portable showers which were horrendous as far as hygiene is concerned. They had a large tank for water where you could get a cup or fill a bottle. They also provided transition into PATH (People Assisting the Homeless) housing, and that’s where I am now.

What’s the difference?

There’s more privacy in the PATH housing. In the tent you had bunk beds and I could reach out and touch the bed across the aisle, that’s how crowded it was. In PATH, you sleep in quads, four single beds to one room. Clean sheets are provided once a week. There are security cameras everywhere so they monitor people coming and going from the quads. PATH housing has a variety of better services; veteran’s assistance, mental health and medical services, a computer room where they’ll help you with your resume and cover letters, job referral services where different companies come in and conduct interviews onsite.

What’s in your future?

What’s in my future is getting out of security work and finding a job again in the medical field. I could have chosen to stay where I was in North Carolina, but I wanted to be here in San Diego, and if I had to do it the hardest way, then I would. Because if anybody should find themselves in a similar situation, then I could tell them my experience, what I learned doing it from scratch.

What words of advice would you have for unsheltered LGBT youth?

I want them to know that there’s hope. San Diego is very gay friendly. I would advise LGBT youth to be careful in the sense that they could be targeted for anti-gay violence. There are tons of services available specifically geared for LGBT youth. There is so much goodness in San Diego. If you trust in God, he’ll lead you to people who will help you. Do not give up hope.

*Aaron is not his real name. He has requested his privacy be protected.

Where to donate:

http://www.fhcsd.org/services/homeless.cfm

http://www.thecentersd.org/programs/youth-services/youth-housing-project.html

http://www.epath.org/site/main.html

Homeless services:

http://www.fhcsd.org/services/homeless.cfm

http://www.sandiego.gov/homeless-services/index.shtml

http://www.sdcounty.ca.gov/sdhcd/homeless/index_homeless.html

Sources:

http://www.uwsd.org/content/ending-chronic-homelessness-san-diego

http://sdgln.com/news/2012/07/13/americas-shame-40-percent-lgbt-youth-homeless

http://dodfedglobe.ning.com/video/lgbt-youth-homelessness-in-san-diego-report

2 thoughts on “Aaron: homeless, not hopeless

  1. Lance,
    I was researching some statistics for LGBTQ homeless youth and came across your article. My question for you is would be interested in covering some of my story about being a survivor of sex trafficking aka prostitution, I’ve been trying to get my story shared in gay ran media for quite sometime now. So many gay youth who were once like me are either being forced into prostitution by any means either coercion, lack of free will , abduction or any other way entering hell on earth.

    My story has been shared first with the Washington Times “Sam”
    was the name reporter gave to protect my identity considering my high profile johns. Another one was in the booth with Ruth she’s a blogger/writer out of the UK…Most recently with the Huffington Post. I’ve wanted to reach to a gay publication because our community to start protecting our youth from these predators that either lurk within the community or come in to hunt and prey on our youth.
    So many that lived the life like myself , never make it out. Were marginalized , judged , ridiculed on the means of survival we had to use to make it. Plus being demonized by others in the community by calling us Hustlers, but in actuality were being tortured by predators that prey on our vulnerability! I implore you to cover my story, in the hopes of making a positive change within the community. To help free our brothers and sisters take away the predators privilege of being able to exploit all they want from a group of people who have been excelled from their families.

  2. All I know is this. When it comes to gay and homeless all they ever bring up is youth. They care about youth. They dont care about anyone who is gay and homeless over 30. Hell, over 25. They lump everyone with everyone else.Ive called 211 before and do you know what they say? Go to St. Vincent’s. Given that the only place for a shelter is at St. Vincent de Paul. Ive been going on and off homeless and I hate downtown. In my experiences, I have seen nothing but homophobes and a very unsafe vibe. The people i the shelter. Not sure of the staff. But all these help the homeless organizations are mainly faith based. The vibe from places like those are very scary. On top of that those places are often breeding grounds for crime.
    Thats why I stay in Hillcrest. I am GLBT. Sadly, our community doesn’t do much to help each one another. Most services are out of Hillcrest and not in the neighborhood at all. With no money or no bus pass, one can’t get to places where they provide food and clothes or showers. When it rains, I have never seen anyone put up a tent in HillcrestIn Hillcrest, everyone wants to prentend they don’t exist. Yes, there are homeless people visible in Hillcrest, and some are heterosexual and others are drug addicts who give others a bad name, but there are many schizophrenics out here on University Avenue. That person talking to themselves or screaming at no one in particular with fits of rage, they’re schizophrenic. Some are likely to be GLBT. They may not always look the best, that certainly isnt a reason to look down on them. Who helps them? No one. Many people are over 30. Other than the youth, when it comes to homelessness, no one cares or wants to help. No GLBT or friendly organizations that I am aware of exist. I have never seen any organization that raises money ever say,”Let’s raise money for the GLBT homeless.” Do you ever hear that? WHen it rains, I hae never seen anyone willing to put up a tent and help keep others dry. Some people have hearts and do what they can for certain people, though not all. However, there’s people who think by giving you a side of their sandwich or hamburger that they’ve bitten into, and don’t want, they are helping you and that somehow makes them feel good about themselves. I say, please! I am a human being. Not a dog, or a pig. God knows, how many times someone has offered me their bitten left overs or try to give me their half drunk coffee. Don’t feed me scraps. Yes the world is tough and not everyone’s situation is the same.

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