We all have a good deal of pre-conceived notions about what it means to be homeless and probably at least as many ideas about what it means to serve the homeless. I usually feel awkward when I tell people that I work at a homeless services agency -- I know they're painting a picture in their mind of what I do, probably something involving an apron, soup, and a ladle.
I'm happy that my day-to-day looks nothing like that and, while I'm proud of my work, I don't necessarily feel like I'm doing something "nice." For my first year at the Gateway Center, I handed out travel-sized shampoos, sorted mismatched socks, and rolled neat bundles of toilet paper. I was frequently yelled at by those I served, called all sorts of fun names, and took a sneeze to the face more than once. Glamorous, indeed.
Most days I don't feel like I'm making any perceptible difference, but I've learned to see my service as also an act of justice -- rebellion, even. Society wants us to believe that our homeless deserve to be invisible -- that "they" are all the same and can be defined by their situation: homeless people, rather than people experiencing homelessness.
From a Christian perspective, weren't Jesus' greatest teachings about seeing the invisible and listening to their stories? Weren't his most revolutionary acts as simple as touching someone who everyone else thought was untouchable? I felt called to work with people experiencing homelessness in Atlanta after graduating from my quaint East-Coast liberal arts college because I felt there was something out-of-sync between the values I held and the life I lived. I'd always believed in social justice and the power of Jesus' teaching that I am called to do unto others as I would have them do unto me, but I realized that some of my prejudices run just as deep as my values.
Working at Gateway has been a humbling experience, but it has not been about me helping other people -- although I hope I am. Rather, it is about others helping me to grow. While I've witnessed inspiring change in traditional activist contexts (protests, conferences, etc.), I've found that some of the most radical transformations occur when we create space to listen to others' stories and learn from people with whom we'd never otherwise have the chance to form relationships.
Serving others is about mutual transformations. Entering into communion with strangers. Learning from each other. Helping to change lives, while staying open to being changed in return.