Explaining Homelessness- SOPs
(Standard Operating Procedures is a set of step-by-step instructions compiled by an organization to help workers carry out routine operations)
Trying to recover from homelessness requires a person to completely rewrite their personal SOPs from the ground up, by themselves, with competing, contradictory, and often false information that they have to perform as “help.”
When you’re homeless you can’t rely on the worldview you were born into; it betrayed you. But you still HAVE to perform it. The conflict between this lived truth, and required performance breaks you- again. And again.
So, you’re tasked with figuring out both contradictory truths. So, isolating, because nobody gets it but you.
This bottom-up SOP overhaul has to happen at lightning speed (bills cycle monthly and paydays often don’t happen until 3 weeks after hire). So, while rewriting SOPs, based on faulty information, you also have to be able to give 20-40 hrs/week to employment which has to be a top priority because ‘Merica is pay-to-play-in-every-way.
So- Rewriting SOPs plus 40hrs/week (whether employed or employment seeking). Then let’s add the all-day-every-day struggle to locate food/cook food/ locate water/ bathroom/ shower- assuming they are in PERFECT health. The real world contrast is that about HALF of the unhoused have disabilities.)
So, Rewriting SOPs plus 40+ hrs/wk and a 24/7 hunt for something to eat and a place to be assuming they don’t have disability.
Did I mention you can’t leave any of your belongings?
That means carrying EVERYTHING.
Every layer of clothes it takes to make it through the night,
Any food you might have, and if you’re lucky, a bike,
A suitcase or a backpack, with your items for hygiene,
A charger for the phone it takes to be able to job seek,
Or set an alarm for work,
Or communicate about anything.
If you’re lucky extra clothes so you can sometimes wash them
But if you leave anything unattended the City will steal and toss them.
You have to take it to do your washing
You have to take it to work
Where they’d rather fire you
Than stumble over things covered in dirt
You have to take it to relieve yourself
You have to take it to shower
You have to take it to where you sleep
Although they stack you in towers
You have to take it with you
As you trek all day for food
And to avoid a world of hazards
That means at the grocery store
Where they assume you’re stealing
Or with you to church
To say a prayer while you’re kneeling
And all of these places
Recognize you as unappealing
So, Rewriting SOPs plus 40+ hrs/wk and a 24/7 hunt for something to eat and a place to be assuming they don’t have disability, while always packing everything.
You still with me?
Great now let’s talk feet.
You don’t have transportation, so let’s face it, you don’t keep that job.
(That didn’t work out, so you’ll need to start those SOP’s again, from the ground up.)
Everywhere you go, has to be travelled by foot,
Packing all of your belongings
Because there’s nowhere for them to be put.
You were at work, when the laundry was available,
And where you sleep there isn’t a shower available,
At least not during the hours you were working
So, the way you smell became a “thing,”
You weren’t able to get deodorant this week,
Also, because of the hours you were working,
And the only work you could find,
Was pay-in-cash
But they stiffed you
So what?
What you gonna do?
They know they can use you for a few weeks labor,
Then discard you, without so much as a “Thank you for the favor.”
One form of human trafficking
When you’re lacking employability
They chew you up till your flavor is gone
Then spit you out and tell you “you’re wrong.”
And you have no choice but to take EVERY opportunity
That comes along.
“Of course I’ll join your roofing crew,
I understand I’ll be the dishwasher,
Because you have to keep me out of view,
I’m no stranger to cleaning rooms,
Do you have any other jobs for me to do?
Really, I’m desperate
And hungry too.”
Because you couldn’t make it to the food bank
Because they extracted your labor
While they stiffed you.
Then someone offers that you can sleep on their couch,
And you’d do anything to get your feet back on the ground,
Or to have someplace to keep your things
And not have to haul them around.
But that couch comes with lots of drama and expectations
That you can’t meet
And it leads again to your displacement.
So then, it’s back out in the cold,
Or a shelter if you’re lucky enough
To sleep with the mold.
It’s better than the mice that come
From having nowhere to store food
(Don’t worry that will come back later
When they blame the mice on you.)
Someone says, “Hey, I know a place
Where they let you keep your stuff.
A buddy of mine just got into a house
And he owes me one.”
You can’t afford to say no,
So you pack it up and you go
And then he tells you to be thankful
And you are so you give him a blow
And a currency is established
From which you can’t escape
You learn fast you don’t have the right to say no,
In fact they get off on the rape
You’re not allowed to ask questions
They aren’t afraid to beat you
You don’t get to have a job,
You get to do what they tell you to.
How are those SOPs doing?
Now you drop the 40 hrs/wk,
And that blocks you from the help you need
Which only gives more power to the trafficking.
You can’t pay for minutes on the your phone
And you’re not allowed to leave the house when they’re not home
Unless it’s an approved outing,
With a chaperone.
It’s easier if you can convince yourself you’re in love
Because then you resist less, and end up less beat up.
If you try to argue or fight back
They put you in your place
And since you never leave they don’t care
If they leave marks on your face.
They humiliate and degrade you
Belittle and berate you
And continue to rape you
You do what they make you
So let’s see,
Where were we?
How are you doing with those SOP’s?
Have you developed procedures for spending time on your knees
Instead of getting beat?
It’s a different ballgame than the one at the LRC
Or on the street
Or looking at an eviction notice in defeat.
You don’t have to carry your things anymore
Because nothing belongs to you
Instead you carry the shame
Of the things they make you do.
Dissociate
Medicate
Reprobate
You don’t make it out of that
That’s just not how it works
Trafficking is effective
And it makes your soul hurt
It effects your sense of worth.
Let’s scrap those plans and go back to the LRC
Let’s pretend that you were never offered that place off the street.
You still get fired from every hire
Food is a priority
You learn pretty quickly
Just because you work
It doesn’t mean they’ll pay
The best you can do is minimize the wear and tear on you
Is eating really worth a walk across town carrying everything too?
They’ll ban you from the LRC
If you have anyone else watch your things
It’s a ball and chain that makes being shackled look easy.
Each time you pee it’s a gamble, really each time you meet a need
It’s your home but you’re told you can’t be there
Whenever the cops interact
All you want is a moment of peace
You pray that this day will pass
What they once did with encampment bans
Is now tickets for trespassing
Either way they’ve criminalized your being
Now you have a ticket because there was nowhere else to go
And you can’t keep minutes on your phone
If you can’t get there you get a failure to appear
If you do, you get fined
Where do they think you’re supposed to come up with the money each time?
Now you’ve got a record,
Now you’re a problem
Now they’ll be gunnin for you
Like being haunted by goblins
If you can’t pay, or didn’t show up
That’s all they need to blow up
Your whole life, because now you’re doing time
And all of your things are gone
You still have nowhere to call home
And they charge you for the time you spend
In jail because you couldn’t make enough ends
Meet to pay that fine to begin with
And your debts become endless
When they do let you out, there’s still nowhere for you to be
And you’ve been banned from the LRC
So you sleep by the creek
It’s so cold, and you’re scared, and alone
But if you’re lucky, and you hide well enough, they might leave you alone
By the way, how are those SOPs coming along?
You think you’d feel more free,
but there’s still nowhere to pee
without being seen
So you hold it until the risk no longer outweighs the need.
And when you finally go, you get a ticket,
And they say you were masturbating
Another ticket, another fine, another court date missed
And the cycle is endless
And you’re defenseless
Leaves you senseless
Every type of help you get is not quite enough to get up
Not quite enough to stand on your feet
Not quite enough
Not quite enough
What should you choose
When forced to pick between a shower and food
Or clean clothes or keeping the rest of the things you own
When you can’t even use the food bank because you’ve no address to give
And you don’t have anything to cook food with
And every time a promise is made
To like something up
They take it away.
Looks like you’ll be doing overtime today.
Rewriting SOPs is its own full time job
So is seeking resources
So is dodging the cops
So is all of the travel by foot
So is hauling it all
And that’s if you DON’T have a disability
That’s if you DON’T have a child
That’s if you DON’T get sick or hurt
In fact these examples are mild
Exhausted from your 40-hour work day
You’re told that you’re being a louse
They talk about you like a menace
Like you don’t deserve to sleep on a couch
Or the chance to process the traumas of falling through the cracks
Living as evidence of the love this city lacks.
Survivor Literacy 
What do you think?