The first time I moved to the streets I was 14 years old. I’ve been homeless without my parents since that age. It wasn’t until I was 20 years old that I reunited with my dad and stayed with him in his house. After six years of not having a home and not even a childhood, I had to grow-up fast.
After my dad died eight years later, I was consistently on the street. I have been on the streets without shelter, money, food stamps, ID, or any way to get them from the ages of 28 to 38. After I turned 38, I moved into a tent and six months later I got a home and a job.
I faced everything from violent attacks, discrimination, denial for jobs and housing during my times on the street. I’ve also had plenty of hard times staying in shelters. I’ve been put out of public parks by the Park Police. I’ve been forced out of buildings, called all kinds of bad names and also bullied and stabbed while sleeping on a park bench.
The tough times I’ve faced on the streets have never made me weak but stronger than the average woman who never experienced those things. My place in life is not to stay in a home but to move through the streets and help others still experiencing homelessness, joblessness and poverty. I’m so grateful for the experience of being in the paper. Here I have the opportunity to share my experience with others going through rough times and also the chance to show people who never experienced those things what it’s like. We all must work together to end homelessness.
