On Being Homeless

America’s homeless crisis is deepening, yet we rarely hear from those on the street. On Being Homeless gives voice to Southern California’s homeless thru a collaborative process.

When we talk about the homeless, it’s usually in the abstract. 187,000 in California. They’re on the streets of every city, but mostly we don’t see them. Mostly, we avoid them. 187,000 is a lot of people to avoid. That’s nearly 1 out of every 200 Californians. But it’s not only the numbers that make this a crisis; it’s our inability to see homeless people as individuals.

Last year, when my brother wound up on the street, the subject of homelessness became personal. That guy on the corner could be Mark. Or it could be you or me. Inside that eyesore of a tent could be someone you love.

I found myself talking to the old guy charging his phone in the library who sailed to Australia in a 32-foot cutter. The woman who found her way to Hollywood from Ontario, Canada and lost her daughter to cystic fibrosis. The guy playing pool at the VFW lodge in Sun Valley who’d rather live in a tent than work 60 hours a week. The guy in Venice who was saved by a dragon. The woman with two suitcases waiting for a bus on PCH who spoke eloquently about God in all things.

I’ve been struck by how the causes of homelessness vary widely and defy generalization. Some couldn’t make rent. Some didn’t want to make rent. Some were scarred by trauma while others found purpose in struggle. Some made poor choices or refused to play by the rules. Others didn’t make it back on their feet after Covid. Or they didn’t make it thru high school. Some were addicts, disowned or driven mad by voices. Some just wanted to wake up to the sound of the ocean.

Though their reasons for being homeless are varied, all have in common the need to be heard and understood. After talking with each person, I pull a compelling quote: a childhood recollection, a critical moment, an insight, a concern, a desire, an admission. A few words that allow us to see an individual.

I ask those I photograph to write their quotes in their own hand, and I layer their handwritten statements into their portraits. My hope is that viewers will take a moment to get to know those I’ve photographed; attention is the first step toward understanding and, as social critic David Brooks suggests, “the purest form of generosity.”