talk to a bum

you walk past them every day. you look at your phone. you speed up slightly. you tell yourself there's nothing you can do, or that they'd just spend the money on booze, or that the shelter system exists for a reason.
all of that is armor. and today, you're going to take it off.
the conversation you've been avoiding
find someone who is visibly homeless. sit down near them. ask them how they're doing. not in a charity-case way, not in a "let me feel good about myself" way. genuinely. like you'd ask any human being.
then listen.
what you'll probably hear
you'll hear about a divorce that cascaded into depression that cascaded into job loss that cascaded into losing the apartment. you'll hear about medical debt from an injury that insurance didn't cover. you'll hear about aging out of foster care at 18 with no family and no safety net. you'll hear about addiction that started with a legal prescription.
what you probably won't hear is "i chose this." because almost nobody did.
why this matters for you
the distance between your life and theirs is smaller than you think. most americans are one medical emergency, one job loss, or one bad month away from financial crisis. the only difference between you and the person on the corner might be a support system, a bit of luck, or a few thousand dollars in savings.
that's not comfortable to sit with. good. comfort is overrated.
what to actually do
- approach with respect. they're a person, not a project
- ask open-ended questions. "how'd you end up here?" if they're willing to share
- listen without trying to fix anything
- if you want to help, ask what they need. sometimes it's food. sometimes it's just someone treating them like they exist
the lesson
empathy isn't an emotion you feel from a distance. it's a practice that requires proximity. you can't understand someone's situation by theorizing about it from your apartment. you understand it by sitting next to them and shutting up.
if this resonated, share it with someone who needs to hear it.