They’re us.

A Couple of Misconceptions

One of the great things about the End of the Tunnel initiatives is that the assistance we provide is given on a case-by-case basis. One thing you learn in the tunnel is that a lot of people aren’t ready for help. We’re not talking about a small percentage, most people are not in a position, psychologically, to accept the kind of help society wants to give. Perhaps you’ve seen, in movies, where a guy gets to sleep in a nice bed for the first time in years. The writers tug at our heart strings by showing him take the pillow down and lie on the floor, unable to adapt to the softness of his bed, or perhaps suggesting a secret desire to return to the primitive world from which he came. That one scene, the man and the bed, is only the tip of the iceberg. 

Our common mistake is to use ourselves as the norm. We see what would be uncomfortable for us, and we make it a goal to provide our idea of comfort to the person without. But to them, that’s not normal. Sleeping in a comfy bed is one example, and for those who have only been homeless for a short time, that bed would be a welcome comfort, but for most people who have been living under bridges and in tunnels for ten or more years, it’s not normal at all. Those folks are sometimes uncomfortable eating with a fork, let alone eating at a table, let alone eating in a restaurant, with people around them, and a waiter asking them questions. This is just dinner. You can’t simply take someone who’s been living a life almost completely free of responsibility and etiquette, and drop them into a world where they again have expenses, neighbors, appointments, toothpaste, underwear, home maintenance, and a GE washer/dryer stack unit. It’s not just overwhelming, it’s unwanted. These folks don’t want a landlord, they want to be left alone.  

This is why people have to accept the fact that their idea of “normal” is actually completely unacceptable to most of the people whom they think are suffering just because “normal” people can scarcely comprehend the idea of leaving their house without a cell phone, let alone having dreadlocks and only a single pair of pants. We all need to accept the reality of this situation, and realize that the solution probably looks nothing even remotely close to what we imagine for them. 

Think about the words in that last sentence: …what we imagine for them. That’s a giant red flag. How would you feel knowing that there was a voluminous mass of people out there, imagining up a world for you which better fits their ideals? It feels wrong, doesn’t it? That’s why we work case-by-case with people. People are different, they have different needs, different circumstances, different psychologies, different philosophies. Only when these attributes align will they be ready, willing, and able to exit the tunnel, and only if that’s what they want.

The vast, vast majority of the time, the only thing these folks are going to get from us is a business card with phone number on it, which reads, “When you’re sick and tired of being sick and tired, call me.” In fact, only a few will get a conversation that stretches beyond, “Are you hungry?” and “Is there anyone you’d like to call right now?” A mere handful will present themselves in such a way that they’re considered candidates for assistance, and a lot of them will say they don’t want it anyway. This is the reality of it. There is an almost incomprehensible truth we all need to let sink in: any homeless panhandler on a street corner will thank you with tears in their eyes if you handed them a fifty-dollar bill, but also offer them a home, medical treatment, a job, debt assistance, and financial education, and they’d rather just take the fifty bucks.

We’re not trying to disillusion people by saying we aim to get eighty or ninety percent of homeless people off the streets of America’s cities—that’s a pipe dream—and it’s not even a dream shared by the people who live on those streets. We can, however, completely change the world for that fraction, that handful of people, who do want to get off the street, are psychologically ready to make the changes in themselves necessary to stay off the street, and are decent enough people to deserve the opportunity to take advantage of the help we provide. They’ll actually appreciate the opportunities afforded them by folks like you who so generously subscribe to the idea that your hard-earned money might be better spent invested in someone in need rather than spending it on a… banana, a cup of coffee, or a spatula or something—whatever a buck and change buys you these days. 

Our goal, made possible through the efforts of our associates in the network of professions, and associations working with people in the tunnel, along with your support of the End of the Tunnel initiatives through your subscription to The Tunnel newsletter, is to provide truly life-changing opportunities to the people who are most likely to become success stories. More, as others become ready, we’ll be there for them, too.