The Journey Ends.

These last 28 days have been....a whirl-wind to say the least. I have found myself in awkward situations, I have figured out how to work a blog. Most importantly, I have been apart of something bigger than me. During my experiment, I attempted to put myself in the shoes of the homeless. The key word here is attempted. I failed miserably. Homelessness is so complex that many Americans can be ignorant to its true definition and how it comes about. There is no formula to becoming homeless. There is no specific race or ethnicity that is destined become homeless. The truth is, anyone can become homeless. Even me. 

I had narrow views on “street people” before I did this project. I am human. However, my illustration of homelessness changed immensely. I experienced the stereotypes. I interacted with "the outcasts". I discovered on of the main reason people don't help the less fortunate: American's don't know how to fix the hole they have inside. They focus their energy on money, recognition, and jobs, thinking that these seemingly conquerable goals will fulfill them. Culture has trained us to believe these are the important aspects of life: get a job, make money, become well known. How wrong we are America. True fulfillment and purpose comes from wholly serving others

To achieve true significance within our lives, we need to actually go out and commit our time to helping someone less fortunate. Donating money is a wonderful act of kindness, but to obtain a true fulfillment in our lives, I feel that it is much more worthwhile to go and do for others rather than letting someone else do it for us.

Through this project, I have discovered my passion: People. I have learned how to meet people's needs. There are no generalizations when it comes to poverty. Every story is different. 

I have enjoyed doing this project. It has given me reason to reignite my passion. It has given me new insight. But most of all, it has given me opportunities to minister to people who may not hear the gospel other wise. I am going to continue to follow the paths of the people I have met, and strive to completely understand what it really means to live life homeless. 

Unacceptable.

"As donors and organizations like United Way focus more of their dollars on big charities, the gap is growing nationally between the haves and have-nots in the nonprofit world. And in a city like Washington, which has many low-income and minority residents, the new policy raises questions about whether the people most in need of money and services will benefit from local philanthropy." 

This quote is derived from United Ways Are Wrong to Link a Charity's Size With Its Results by Pablo Eisenberg. 

Starting in 2013, the Washington United Way says it will award money only to groups that have at least $50,000 in revenue and overhead costs of 35 percent or less. They are giving money to bigger charities, and suffocating the small ones. They say this decision will increase their impact on society.

"The best way to increase United Way's impact is to support fewer small, marginally productive groups and pay more attention to high-performing organizations."

-William Hanbury, chief executive of the D.C. United Way

My question is that if the United Way really wanted to increase its impact, why didn't it exclude nonprofits that have big budgets already and do not need help to operate successfully? I do not agree with what United Way is choosing to do. They are somewhat monopolizing the nonprofit world. Unacceptable. 

Beyonce?!?!

For my last interview, I thought it was important to recognize someone who does a lot not just for the music industry, but also for the world of service: Beyonce. No, I wasn't able to reach her on her cell, I retrieved this form the internet. It's important to see famous people doing charity because it can give us motivation also. 

Beyonce, founder of Beyonce Cosmetology Center and The Survivor Foundation, says that she tried to keep her charity work out of the spotlight:

“I’ve always felt that you should give because it’s what you can do to help,” “You don’t do it to get praised. For a long time, being quiet about what I did was a conscious decision.”

She thinks everyone should take a look around them and find a way to help out – no matter how big or small:

“When you look around at all that’s wrong in the world, the need to do something, no matter how big or how small, is clear.”

She admits that she’s not perfect. One area of herself she’s working on:

“I promise I’m working on this, but I could be less messy at home and keep the clothes in my closet and off the floor,”

Beyonce is an inspiration to me. Though her music is not my style, her heart is definitely in line with mine. We should help out in any way we can, big or small. 

Living it out

As I sat there in front of the red, brick church sign, I read these words: “The Sanctuary: A place of refuge.” I looked down at my clothes that were covered with dirt, rips and old stains. My shoes had holes in the front, exposing my bare toes to the chilly October morning. I was experiencing the life of the homeless.

            I gazed down the gravel road and positioned myself so that every person who turned into the church parking lot could see me. The clock struck nine. Church leaders and staff came hurrying in, rushing to tend to their Sunday morning duties. Out of 15 cars, no one stopped to talk, help, or even stare at me. 10:30 came quickly and the early arrivers started trickling in. 42 cars. Out of those 42, 7 tapped their breaks and 0 stopped to acknowledge me. That is 57 cars so far that have come, but not stopped. Church started at 10:50, so at 10:47, 50 more cars came rolling in. No one stopped. No one tapped their breaks.

            At this point my feet are getting cold from the wet grass. I turned my head towards the church building and saw a sight I won’t ever forget. A 10 year old child walking towards me with a donut and coffee. His mother was standing next to the open church doors watching as he handed me the food. He said God Bless, and walked away. In astonishment, I ate the donut and scarfed down the coffee. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see my youth pastor of 7 years. He invited me inside and I agreed.

            Once inside, I got looks of confusion, but none of antipathy. I sat in the back of the church,

 alone, with awkward written all over me. Little did the congregation know the pastor and I had a plan 

(I had contacted him a week before and asked his permission to do my experiment.). When worship 

finished, everyone sat down, but I boldly stood up. I made my way to the pool pit and began revealing 

my true identity. The church was aghast