The New Black -- by Ward Draper

The following text expresses the vulgarity of life on the edge of civility and order. It may offend; it may arouse anger. But be patient and reflect on the pain etched in these words. My desire is only to share the hurt, in its all its naked, violent nature.

Falling heavy upon the cold hard ground draped in filthy rags the search for stillness begins. He seeks to find a few moments solace from a long ruthless day of being a shadow. 

His life of being an unnoticed piece of shit that floats at the feet of the exalted members of society. A nameless thing, a blight upon the prettiness of the paper world, the plastic people scurry away from this weary shadow. They fear their own reflection they find in his eyes, the taste of their possibilities, the smell of their pain, like clockwork they deny themselves by denying him. Words not spoken carry an echo of denial but the heart knows. The heart always knows, it is the only place truth truly lives.

In the shroud of darkness his home is found far beyond the confines of the white picket prisons and a reasonable sense of stability. He lights his final cigarette before the dreams come again. The monsters that come and dance for him in a ritual of depravity and familiarity. He remembers something regarding wholeness, warmth, and being someone but what he is not sure. It is cold tonight, that is the one thing that is for sure. Eyes closed now, cigarette crushed in the soil beside his head, the foul blankets pulled over his beautiful face. A face adorned with scabs, burns, and bruises but honestly if you look through the hearts window a vista of beauty lies in those hollow cheeks and sullen eyes.

Listen. Not again, please one night, tears play on edges of expression. The sound of rushing feet crashing through the bushes arouses demonic rage and childhood fear. The bad people are here. “Wake up asshole!” A flashlight, uniforms, authority, noble soldiers of the status quo. “You were told not to be here and I don’t give a fuck what you have to say.” His eyes flutter and dance in this rape of the senses, the destruction of sanctuary. The biggest uniform sends his boot into the fragile side of the sleeping shadow. “You have three minutes to vacate this area. You are trespassing on city property and we are tired of you people fucking around and destroying everything you touch.” Again the caress of leather and steel toes brush against his thin frame.

The shadow tries to grab some things and anything. The meagre possessions gathered since the last act of community service the uniforms performed three maybe four days ago. “Come on asshole move it now, forget this shit its garbage. The city crew will toss it tomorrow.” The shadow casts his eyes to the dirt, stammers, “where, why...” “Shut up and leave we are tired of you and your shit,” the smaller uniform speaks. He shuffles away into the black, just ahead of the sun; he looks to his watch which informs him that at least he slept three hours. The Timex comforts him with the bold statement, “better than last night buddy.”

His belly speaks up now, “I hate to be an inconvenience but do you think we could stop by the pizza joint and check their dumpster. If we are lucky the bin hasn’t been hit by anyone else.” The shadow agrees with his belly and drags his frame towards the garbage can. Luck is on his side tonight no one has snagged the nightly leftovers, only thing left to do is to throw his weakened carcass into the garbage bin and eat some grub. “Hey you get out of the garbage can, that is private property, put down the garbage bag and leave or I am calling the cops,” a rent-a-cop boldly declares defending refuse from a shadow seeking a light snack amongst used toilet paper, shitty diapers, and the daily newspapers. What does a voiceless shadow do now? Seek other shadows, unite with the collective of forgotten things, and hunt down comfort hidden within concoction of chemicals. Let the hunt begin.

Light dances upon the treasures discarded by the exalted ones as they fly along in their mighty chariots. Gutters cluttered with items of great convenience and destructive compounds. The shadow’s eyes keep pace with the earth as the march to his family begins. In thirty minutes his inner ditches of affliction will be backfilled with a collection of noble narcotics designed to camouflage life. Dreams, love, and purpose appear to become closer when choking on Satan’s pipe, the pipe from which death triumphantly declares yet another meaningless victory. The shadow may not be allowed to eat the exalted ones garbage, sleep in their parks, use their bathrooms, enter their businesses or even talk to them but at least the shadow feels something when sucking on the Devil’s shaft.

This is a brief incomplete glimpse of what nearly every homeless individual experiences every day. There are many other hurts that could be expressed which include random beatings, rape, verbal degradation and one of the greatest evils ever which is the continuing neglect at the hands of the Church. Homelessness is growing exponentially. Comfortably the number of homeless in British Columbia alone is almost at one human being out of every one hundred human beings. These beautiful broken individuals are treated in so many ways like the African Americans were treated for most of the twentieth century. In most communities they are treated as second class citizens, no washrooms or extremely limited access to them, no water access, no safe places to just be, no respect, chased all over by different authority figures and very limited acknowledgment that they are even human. The list is enormous and would cover a great deal of space if all the wrongs done to them were listed. Please understand that in no way am I denying the horrendous treatment of African Americans by pointing to the likeness between these people groups but simply pointing to some striking similarities. Additionally I recognize quite well many homeless contributed much to arrive at their current situation but many more did not. It is my desire to highlight briefly the current state of a vast majority of communities around the world. It is not acceptable to treat anyone as if they have less value than you. Furthermore, if you confess to know Jesus there is absolutely no allowance in the Kingdom for that ignorance. Christ stated absolutely that we are to Love the Lord our God with all our heart and with all our soul and with all our mind and with all our strength.' As well: `Love our neighbour as ourselves.'  If one is foolish enough to believe they can circumvent these commands may God have mercy on their dumb ass.

I understand you may feel cut by these words, feeling my statements are too general, that I am painting too many people with the same brush and you may be right. However this problem exists and if we can’t even address an issue at our front door how can we be of any real use elsewhere? Do we really need to keep adding to our widely accepted label of hypocrites? I am well aware that there are millions of other issues that need addressing immediately but can’t we at least invest a small amount in our immediate neighbourhoods? A solid foundation at home creates a much sturdier foundation to work from. A solid community creates solid bridges to other areas of our glorious world. If our closet neighbours are neglected are we not failing the greatest commandments? Remember a life not respected reflects poorly on any community but it reflects even worse on the Church.

At this point you may be fuming at what I have said. Good, take that passion and shove it down Satan’s throat. Bring it to manifestation in service to Christ in your immediate neighbourhood. Find a human being that needs Jesus, needs love, needs a friend, needs an ear, needs a hand, and give. Give til it hurts, love like a crazed lunatic. As Mother Teresa said “Love til it hurts then you will find there is no more hurt just more love.” I want to state that not just homeless need love but the annoying jerk across the street, the old lady who only steps out once a month for groceries, seek the lost and broken. I may be wandering a bit; I get that, all I am trying to say is every life has immense value including the homeless. They are our current group of second class citizens and that is not acceptable. If you know Jesus it is your duty to take a stand for these Samaritans and all who fall beneath the feet of the elite. You have nothing to lose when you serve Christ and your orders are simple love til you fall into your grave. If you want to become involved in working with people that are forgotten or neglected seek a table to serve at. God has built many tables for us to serve at, go now and find one. Serve with every ounce of your being not because it saves you but because God loves you and He deserves no less. If homeless is something you want to address contact me, God has given me a table to manage and all who want to serve are welcome. I hope you take these words in love not judgement.