By Aysha Rehman, Mosaic Staff Writer
I think I called almost every homeless shelter in San Jose and I haven’t gotten anyone of them to call me back except one. One. Right now I feel like I’m just biding my time until this story slips through the cracks, and honestly, I’m feeling rejected. Like maybe this won’t be as big a story as I see it.
I decided to write about the homeless when I had an important discussion with my dad oh so long ago. I had started reading quite a bit about the plight of the homeless when a series on the issue appeared on the Al Jazeera America website. Ever since then I’ve always had an interest in writing about the homeless here, in our own backyard.
My plan for now is just to plan out my questions, and wait, because if all I have is that one shelter to cover, than I hope I cover it well, because these people all have stories, and it’s about time we stopped ignoring what they have to tell us.
As I sit here wasting away waiting for a phone call, I wonder what kinds of people I’m going to talk to, or what stories they have to tell me. How they became homeless, or how they get by on a day-to-day basis. To me, it’s unimaginable how we can subject our fellow human beings to this kind of living when we ourselves remain ignorant of the fallacies of the American dream, but I digress.
Tomorrow I hope someone calls me back, and allows me access into this oft forgotten world of those we have essentially deemed “the other.” I want to see what it’s like in the shoes of those who we toss a quarter or two into charity for, those who we see at Christmas time but neglect to see in the heat of summer.
Maybe the next day will hold replies and maybe some leads to go off of, but as for now, I’m leaving a message at the tone.