May 4, 2011
Homeless Profile
Identify the one that does not belong: hopeless, homeless, successful. It seems black and white, doesn’t it? After all, “homeless” certainly has a negative connotation, becoming almost synonymous with “hopeless” over the years. No hope to get a job, no hope to receive help, and certainly no hope for improvement. One man, however, has proven that being homeless is not the same thing as being hopeless. He introduced himself as Reverend Green, although he was hesitant to give his true name, and from there, his story unfolded.
“It’s an interesting story, but a straightforward story,” said Green, at age 54. He was enjoying a cup of McDonald’s coffee that he had doctored with an excessive amount of sugar. He doesn’t seem to think that his story is very unique, although it contradicts many existing misconceptions. Green was born in Southern Philadelphia on December 10th, 1957. He grew up there in a two-parent household with his step-siblings. Although his father died when he was fourteen, Green claims to have had a very happy childhood.
However, that doesn’t mean that life was perfect.
“Drugs were a part of my life since I was fourteen,” Green explained, “It was part of my community.” That marked the beginning of his descent.
At seventeen, Green moved out of his parents’ home and began attending community college in Philadelphia. He earned a degree in pan-African studies and minored in communication and journalism. From there, he attended Temple law school for two years. Then he took a leave of absence. He never returned. He was strung out on cocaine.
“Being homeless is awkward,” explained Green, “and it’s extremely awkward if you’re doing drugs.”
This is the resounding theme in Green’s story. Although he has been clean for the majority of his years, his slip-ups have landed him in a bad place. How does a man with twenty three years of education, an intelligent man who graduated with honors, end up being homeless? That has to do with addiction.
Green moved to Williamsport, Pennsylvania in an attempt to get clean. He attended many narcotics anonymous meetings, but could never fully rid himself of the burden of addiction.
“And that’s what got me to this mission this time,” Green stated. He has been staying in Harrisburg at the Bethesda Mission, which opened in 1914 and strives to provide food, shelter, clothing, and help to homeless men in the area. December 29th, his tenth day at the mission, was the last of his stay. Green could have blamed his situation on the economics, but the true problem is something simpler: drugs.
Green came to Bethesda under the influence, meaning that his stay is only ten days. Although grateful to the mission, Green seems unsatisfied.
“A shelter is just that. It’s not a home,” he said, “but if it wasn’t for this place, where would I be?”
Green wants a place to call his own. At Bethesda, he lives with ninety other men in a large dormitory with bunk beds. When he arrived, the mission was so overcrowded that he had to sleep on a mattress on the floor. It’s impersonal and less than ideal. The Bethesda Mission is much more secure than other shelters he’s visited, in which you risk being robbed or beat up, but is still no substitute for a home.
His plans for the future are vague, but he seems to at least have an idea of where he is going: He’s going to stay clean. Green plans to drive tractor trailers in order to earn enough money to rent a room in an apartment building. He believes that setting up a support group, coupled with his strong faith in God, will help him to overcome his addiction.
“I have hope in God,” said Green firmly. Faith wrung in his words. Just God? That’s all? “That’s all I need,” he replied.
As a very religious man, Green puts a lot of faith in God. At a point where he truly had nothing, he found it in himself to ask God for help. From then on, he claims to have complete faith. Recently, he was working on getting his Master’s degree in Theology from the Reformed Presbyterian Seminary in Pittsburgh. He wishes to help others understand the dangers of addiction, and send them on the right path. He even taught about drugs and alcohol at the Allegany County Jail for six years. But the bridge between his successful life and his life without a home is addiction.
“See, drugs don’t discriminate,” said Green, “Addiction don’t care that I’ve got 23 years of education. It don’t care.”
His addiction has robbed him of his belongings and forced him out of his home on more than one occasion, and yet he stays hopeful. Green lives for today, never allowing himself to think about what-ifs, yet has one plan for the future. He will stay clean.
“The question really is: what am I going to do today?” said Green. And what is that? “Drink my coffee, go back to the mission, take some cold medicine, and lay down.”
