When I first moved to Chicago, I learned about the Streetwise
magazine. For those of you who don’t
live here, StreetWise, Inc. is a social enterprise designed to help the
homeless and those at risk of homelessness out of poverty. It is a workforce
development agency providing under-served individuals with support and opportunities
for professional growth and real employment.1 You mostly see these individuals
outside of Walgreens or CVS selling their magazines. In 2003, everyday on my way home from work, I
would pass a woman selling StreetWise. I
was 23 and had no respect or sensitivity for these people, even though I
thought I did. I would buy the magazines
when I could (which wasn’t very often; I lived in a rundown hotel room with one
other person, and would often have to skate to and from my temp jobs because I
didn’t have bus fare) and I felt that gave me the right to do impressions of
her for fun. What a dick, right?
Recently, I walked past a different woman selling StreetWise
in my new neighborhood, and I realized that not only had I not seen the woman I
joked about in years, but I actually hadn’t seen any other women selling StreetWise at all.
*Walking past CVS*
Woman: StreetWise!
Me: I’m sorry I don’t have any cash.
And I really didn’t.
My Brain: Huh. Jesus, I wonder if that woman from Boystown
is even still alive. Or if she was even
ever able to turn her life around. I can’t
believe we used to laugh about her. What
is wrong with me? Early 20 somethings
are the worst. Or maybe just I am. I mean, did she have children or anyone she could
have turned to for help? Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was all on her own. Oh my God, I’m 35 and I’m barely considering
having children. I could be that woman
in 30 years. Would it be worth it to get
pregnant just to be sure that someone takes care of you when you’re old? I mean, you’d still have to do a pretty good
job of parenting if you wanted them to stick around for your diaper years. Look at all those indie films where the kids
only come back for the funeral and it turns out they are dysfunctional, selfish
pricks. I bet they get that from their
dysfunctional selfish prick parents that we never get to meet. Not that this woman is a selfish prick, Jesus,
why am I so awful?
Why are we expected to
like those characters? Because we’re
just like them? I talk a big game about
how I don’t enjoy watching antiheroes on TV, like Walter White and Don Draper. It’s weird how their names use alliteration, kinda
like a superhero name does: Clark Kent, Peter Parker, Wade Wilson…
Now, I want to write that I got cash and bought a
Streetwise, but I didn’t. I thought about
it. I guess I’ll go home and start up
Mad Men again.
No comments:
Post a Comment