A Living Magazine - Day 234 - Homecoming - Charlotte: Homelessness as an Extreme Sport

Just can't help sleeping in here. It is making things problematic for getting back out and on to the road. I know I think too much about all of this, but it is possible that being discovered could be a real day-ruiner, not to mention expensive if there is a fine. 

I got down to the Starbucks at Harris Teeter and worked on the day's post about the IWALLK Lexicon...

Typical of my meals lately.

In the back of my mind was an expansion to the idea of the digital age nomad. So, I'd like to focus on these new ideas...

                                                                                                                                                                                             

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HOMELESSNESS AS AN EXTREME SPORT

In the last post I talked about using this digital age nomadic model for urban camping as a recreational activity. Well, it occurred to me that if people are willing to jump out of planes, do bungee jumping, wingsuit diving, ice climbing, rock climbing, etc., maybe urban camping could be seen as an extreme sport?

What I keep thinking about is pulling the wind out of the sails of the meme or stereotype of homelessness. The word "homeless" denotes images of suffering, lack of hope, failure and despair. The reasons for this are clear to me. 

For the last hundred years it has been expected that Americans will buy into the so-called "American dream." Way back in 1931, James Truslow Adams declared, "Life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement." [Wikipedia] An ideal for sure, but a realistic one?

This was especially highlighted after World War II. Social systems were in place to readily turn domestic life into a kind of competition. If you weren't competing with your neighbor, you were competing with yourself. The sport was social mobility. It could be played as teams, doubles or singles.

The goal? Acquire better and better things. The first - if you were a man - was to acquire a "good wife"; one who had no particular life goals of her own besides producing babies for you, cleaning up your husbandly messes, and making sure your meals were on the table when you needed them. 

Next was a house. In the early days you saved up for a house. That didn't last long as the military-industrial complex of America grew and mortgages replaced savings as instant shelter-gratification. 

Naturally, you would need a car. Not only was your car necessary to drive to work each day - not to mention anywhere in town to which your great grandparents would have just walked - but it also served as the outward badge of your social status whenever it was in your driveway. To have your car right away required taking on more debt. 

These debts, your growing family, and your growing need for better outward status, meant you worked longer hours. You didn't see much of things you were paying for, because you were leaving the house early and coming home late. You were a figurehead leader of the household. You earned the money, so you had the final say in all material matters. And because you had the final say in material matters - and since all that mattered outwardly in society was material life - you also took on the role as rule-maker. You might not be very good at it, but it was your God-given American right as a man. You didn't realize that your wife was just going to do what she thought was right anyway, and save your presence in the house as merely a deterrent against bad behavior in your children.

If you were a woman and had dreams of more than pushing out babies and serving your husband - if you wanted to do what he did for work - you fought for equal rights. Sometime after the 1970's you achieved most of those rights, and now you were the co-breadwinner and co-rule-maker. It should be noted though, that women even in 2016 make still only about 79% what men do. Working outside the home did not liberate you from your responsibility for all domestic duties until the mid 1980's when your husband decided that if he pitched into homemaking you might not be as frazzled and angry all the time about how much more you do than he does. This gave you a legitimate way to have a fulfilling career of your own. Well, that just tossed the domestic salad right out of the bowl. Remember "Mr. Mom"? Thankfully, society began to agree that men didn't have to only do "men's work," and even gave lukewarm reception to the "stay at home dad" by the turn of the 21st. Century.

But, what about that American dream? I will shorten the meaning to the more modern and accurate concept that it has become: work hard to own stuff. If you didn't work hard, you couldn't have a wife, kids, house, or car. The problem in our last two decades is people are now realizing that even when both parents work as hard as they possibly can, they still can't have the traditional, post war life. What is happening? This is America! 

You grow up, go to college with the help of family savings, get the job your degree said you could do, buy a car, get married, buy a house, have kids, work hard...and since you had fulfilled all of those duties, you are then rewarded with a blissful old age of downing mai tais on the white-sand beaches of retirement. Right? Mr. James T. Adams promised us that! Okay, maybe it wasn't a promise. But the American adult deserves this if he/she has reached the payoff goal. Right?

Well, what it all turned out to be was a web of industry mouths that could never be fed enough. After banks owned America by owning everyone's loans and mortgages, there was plenty of cash flow to be dealt out to the big boys. By that, I mean the country was built up according to the American Dream myth, by the corporations that could secure capital from the banks who were receiving tithes (loan payments) from all those hardworking American Dreamers. What was supposed to have made life "Better and richer and fuller for everyone," was in fact keeping everyone down, except for those who'd already reached the top.

We know how the story went. The fattest wallets got so fat that they sank the barely bobbing American Dream in an ocean of complexities that only they understood. What happened was that image became the goal. If great wealth was now mostly unattainable by even the most able and hardest working Americans, they might as well look wealthy--live that way. 

Banks went into overdrive in the 1990's extending credit to every warm body with a name, sometimes not excepting the dog. Now with credit cards multiplying faster than Catholic rabbits, debt became a way of supplementing income; hell, replacing income. Houses and cars and nice clothes, toys of all kinds, could be purchased by credit card. Even the burger flipper at McDonald's could buy toys. But as we also know, the plastic punch bowl was eventually drained and left a massive hangover.

The worst possible look for an American was to be walking down the street (no car), with a big backpack on (no house), old clothes (no money), alone (no husband or wife). The programmed propaganda of the 20th. Century was tattooed into the minds of every American. If you couldn't achieve great wealth, and you couldn't even achieve a great image of wealth, you were not just a failure, a disgrace to your family, an embarrassment to your friends, and a waste of food and water, you were something much worse: un-American.

As more people, even respectable people, tumbled down into the "un-American" category, the leering and jeering transformed into muted hues of unspoken contempt. The American Dream is dead, and we killed it by believing in it.

I, for one, have not been feeling the love here in Charlotte. To be seen with my backpack in just about any business, is to suddenly have become a non-citizen. Even having money (when I have it) is no antidote to a lack of image. I will stand in line at the Starbucks in the Harris Teeter (which is not a typical Starbucks--but a store branch) and each person in front of me will be greeted with kindness and respect. When I reach the counter the eyes of the cashier must be painfully kept from rolling. The smile disappears. There is nothing they want more than to just get rid of me. When I took my coffee upstairs to sit at a table, the guy in the business suit had already been there for an hour. The sign says that there is a two hour limit. After I had worked for two hours, a store employee walked up to my table and pointed out the sign, then went into the office. The "businessman" was left to his peace.

What I want to see is an end to this stereotype. I know that many of you say to yourselves what you won't say to me: "I can understand where the store is coming from. People who aren't bloggers probably come in and stay all day." My answer to this is, so what!  

I walked into the Dollar General store to buy some pumpkin seeds for a snack to have at the sleep spot. The guy behind the counter told me he'd have to hold onto my backpack while I shopped. I asked him why (though I knew well, having had this happen many times before). He said it was store policy. I asked him why I should trust him with my stuff if he didn't trust me with his stuff. This stumped him. He repeated the store policy. Of course, I left without my snack. I will not patronize any business that assumes I am a risk, simply because I look a certain way, and then makes me temporarily give up my personal property because of it. 

And this is what we do now. We parrot illogical rules. We typecast characters to play one role in our world and when they depart from that role, our world falls apart. 

So, what if there were a way for people to protest this while also having some fun? Let's make homelessness an extreme sport! 

I can imagine a smartphone or iPhone app that is a mixture of geocaching, navigational information and player statistics. A group of college students downloads the app from Google Play. They have their equipment organized and ready to go. For the first week of Spring Break they have chosen to compete as temporary nomads.

At the designated moment, they all shake hands, or clink beer bottles and then head out. Players earn points for the following...

1. Sleeping in a public place without being discovered. The closer the sleep spot is to the public, the more points are earned.

2. The reliability of the sleep spot. The more days spent there without being discovered the more points are earned.

3. Documentation of the sleep spot and it's advantages. Videos and pictures of the sleep spot earns points.

4. Physically advantageous aspects of the sleep spot. More points are earned for being on higher ground, being near a place to buy cheap food and beverages, having trees to use as hangers, clotheslines, shelter from the rain, perhaps a clean water source, a good safety profile, and general comfort, along with whatever else is decided.

5. Spending as little as possible. Each player has a prepaid debit card with the same amount of money. Transaction history is examined at the end of the week, with the largest remaining balance earning more points.

6. Day access. To be able to retreat to the sleep spot and escape the constant eyes of the public would earn points--showing that the player was able to choose the most sacred of all homeless needs: privacy.

7. Stability of the site. Can the tent be left up without packing it each day.

You probable get the idea. Meanwhile all their friends are keeping up with the game. There would be a web site where each player has a profile that they update every day. Players can also see each other's progress and adjust strategies to match or defeat each other. Teams could even compete in different cities simultaneously.

There could be betting or a cash prize, or simply a trophy for the highest point earner. I think if there was a prize worth playing for, this would be an extremely interesting and competitive game. I'd actually like to compete with other people to see how I would do. It is like a multi-player video game but in the real world.

For philosophical purposes though, it would put more people on the street who looked the part of the so-called homeless, but would not in any other way resemble the stereotype. If they were caught by the police they could use the opportunity to tout the game as a way of destroying prejudice in these regards. 

So they may be arrested. They may be fined. Every extreme sport has a dangerous aspect to it. Beside the physical danger of the game (and take it from me, there is physical danger to this lifestyle), the legal, social and cultural statement being made could do more to change the status quo than simply writing about it (as I do).

Yet, I also see another fascinating possibility. Perhaps those who are seriously without a home, without a voice, without resources, without the compassion of the public, could join in on the games. 

They know every nook and cranny of the streets they live on. Surely there must be a place for their input, participation, guidance, etc.? Maybe by choosing to "lower" ourselves to their level, they can "raise" themselves to a higher level than society will presently let them climb. Maybe not. How would we know without trying?

Although much of this is tongue-in-cheek - I would be amazed if anyone even comments - it is at least a novel idea. It shines light into our most embarrassing cracks and dark spaces as a society. It brings the subject to the forefront instead of sweeping it under the dirty rug. At the same time, it makes a light hearted but profound statement, and might actually be fun to try.

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I finished my post at the library, as this was the very day I was told to "move it along sir" in so many words by the Harris Teeter staff. Because they profiled me, singled me out, and treated me like a second class citizen, I will not go back there again.

I returned late to the sleep spot, but stood around outside pacing and thinking--perhaps, stewing just a little bit. Eventually it got too cold and I had to get into the tent. I slept well again--too well...again.