Summer 2013 was an incredible journey for me. I was able to spend substantial time in New Orleans with my beloved cousins, and then I was fortunate enough to travel to Spain, where I was able to explore Madrid and Barcelona, meet amazing people, and tap into strength that I didn’t even know I had. The memories I created will last a lifetime. The last leg of my wonderful summer vacation entailed renting a little studio in Los Feliz, an area of Los Angeles notoriously known for hipsters and night life. While I was looking forward to participating in all things hipster, I also wanted to find an opportunity to give of myself and do something for others. After all, in this fast paced, dog eat dog world that is inundated with social media, it is really easy to become self absorbed and closed off. Our worlds, although broadened through the Internet, can almost become smaller...because instead of getting out there and forming communities, we are instead often staring at our screens, sort of swept up in a false sense of community. Does this make sense? Anyway, I could write a dissertation on that, but I will spare you. :)
I began searching for volunteer opportunities. Boy, it can be difficult to give your time and help away for free! Understandably, many organizations probably have a pretty strict filter system so that they procure volunteers who are trustworthy and reliable. However, it can be tough and time consuming to go through an eight step process, interviews, finger prints, commitment of eight hours a week, just to help a cause you believe in. Knowing I had limited time in Los Feliz, I was lucky enough to come across a group called Monday Night Mission that didn’t require any of the steps mentioned above. Instead, their motto was basically, “Please help if you can!” SOLD! I read a little bit more about the group and learned that every night, Monday through Friday, a group of people get together at a Burger King in Downtown L.A., make as many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as their supplies will allow, and then head to skid row to feed the homeless. The rules? Donate what you can, even if it’s just a smile. Wear closed toed shoes. Be aware that you are putting yourself in a potentially dangerous situation, but that help is needed. I signed up that very day.
The plan was to meet at the Burger King at 7pm. I went to Ralph’s and stocked up on ten loaves of bread, and three jumbo sized peanut butters and jellies. I also brought a box of sandwich baggies. Of course I was a little nervous about what I was getting myself into, but are we really living if we aren’t stretching ourselves? Don’t they say life begins when you step outside of your comfort zone? I pulled into the parking lot armed with supplies, tennis shoes and a sweatshirt. I walked up to a group of people who were already starting to form a sandwich making assembly line. These folks could not have been kinder, sweeter or more welcoming. At the same time, they were there to work. They had a goal, a job, and it was going to get done. The volunteers I met that night were from all walks of life and mostly in their twenties and thirties. I met a Time Warner executive, an aerospace engineer, a checker from Albertsons, and a Special Education teacher. To be honest, our day jobs didn’t matter. That evening we were sandwich makers and we were there to serve. After about an hour, we had produced 400 sandwiches. Other people had brought bottled water, boxes of fruit and one beautiful couple had put together baggies of toothbrushes, toothpaste and floss. Can you imagine? Imagine living without these items that we take for granted on the daily?
Although the volunteers I was working beside were strangers, we quickly became one entity working toward a common goal. After our PB&J building was done, the Monday Night Mission leader, Mel, brought the group together for a talk before heading down to skid row. He gave us a little background on the group, on the homeless living on Skid Row, and once again warned us that we were going into a potentially dangerous situation and that it was very important to follow the leaders. He graciously told us that if anyone didn’t feel comfortable making the trek into skid row that it was perfectly fine to leave now, that helping to make sandwiches was significantly generous enough. No one moved an inch. The more experienced volunteers (volunteers who do this several nights a week) took the lead and we caravanned from the Burger King parking lot to Skid Row. I hopped into a car with three young men who were so kind and protective, knowing it was my first time volunteering and that I had come alone. While I knew we were going into an unpleasant situation, I wasn’t entirely prepared for what came next.
First, I must give huge props to the Monday Night Mission group. Their operation runs like a well oiled machine. We set up a folding table on the street and many of the male volunteers acted like shields while the women passed out the food. As we pulled up to the area where we were going to pass out food, I was stunned to see a line of nearly 300 homeless people waiting. According to my new friends that I was riding with, most of these people had been standing in line for hours, waiting for their first and only meal of the day. Although it was shocking, I remembered what Mel said...that providing a sandwich and a smile to these folks was the best gift you could give. So I got out of that car, plastered a smile on my face, and went to work. As each person came through the line, one of the more experienced volunteers would ask for their name and then tell us their name so we could greet them. Some of these people have almost entirely lost their identity, their dignity and their hope. It was so important to smile, say their name, hand them a sandwich and most importantly, treat them like a human being. There were men, women, young, old, crazy, insane, unclean, sad, happy, polite, and rude. It was one of the most eye opening experiences of my life. I was so grateful that I was able to stay at the front of the line almost the entire time and hand out food. I was so grateful that I was able to look so many of these human beings who have fallen on hard times right in the eye, give them a smile, and hand them a meal. The majority of the people I handed food to were kind, grateful and said a genuine, “thank you.” I could see shame and despair in some of their eyes, and as my heart broke, I remembered to stay strong and look them in the eye, say their name and give them that smile. I wasn’t scared if my hand touched their hand. My goal was to make that moment a pleasant one, to show them a bit of love, to suspend time for just a second before they retreated back to their curb side home.
I cannot and will not get into the politics regarding the homeless. I have done some research, and I certainly have my opinions, but I don’t want to address that here. However, I will comment on how much perspective one can gain when stepping away from their own lives and stepping up to help others. It is the most fulfilling feeling one can have. I think it might be easy to be quick to judge...why doesn’t that lazy person get a job? Why don’t they stop smoking crack and get a job? I’ve worked hard for my money, why should I give it to someone on the streets? I get it. I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve had some of these thoughts myself. However, we don’t truly know a persons path. We don’t truly know what they have endured. And while yes, I work hard for my money, I am also blessed with not wanting for much. So why in the world wouldn’t I help those who are in need? Because of my ego? Because of my judgement? Because of my assumptions regarding the “choices” they have made? No. I can’t think of a better use of my time, and a more fulfilling joy in my heart. I am not here to preach, but I just wanted to share my experience with you. With the holiday season approaching and colder nights being imminent, maybe you can find a way to give. If you would like to head down to skid row with me, let me know. I can promise you it will be an experience you will soon not forget.
“Giving is the highest expression of potency. In the very act of giving, I experience my strength, my wealth, my power. This experience of heightened vitality and potency fills me with joy. I experience myself as overflowing, spending, alive, hence as joyous. Giving is more joyous than receiving, not because it is a deprivation, but because in the act of giving lies the expression of my aliveness.” ~ Erich Fromm
