I'm Too Close To Homelessness

I can't do this again

Everyday I walk Nico in the park and I say hello to my unhoused neighbor Ms. Melba. She sleeps in the park when the weather is nice. On the days when the cops are being asshats and make her leave, I’m not sure where she goes. Each time I see Ms. Melba, I think about how close I am to finding myself in that exact situation. The only difference is that I have my car to live in - until it gets repossessed.  

Statistics say that 58% of Americans are 1 paycheck away from homelessness. 

As for me, I’m live on the edge of a thirty day eviction every month. 

I’ve been homeless five times in my life, twice as a kid and three times as an adult.

And yep, I know there’s a court process that takes time, often months.  However, once I’m crystal clear that I’m not wanted in a place, trust that you will never see my Black ass again. 

You don’t have to ask me twice, I’m out.

I refuse to experience the shame of notices on my door, harassment from the landlord (what a terrible word) and humiliating court dates. 

Been there, done that, it sucks. Never again.

To keep it a buck, I don’t have rent this month. 

Between my eye surgeries, a broken heart and existing as a tired Black woman in ‘merica, I haven’t done much to ensure that my basic needs were covered this month. 

I’ve been resting. I’ve been healing. I’ve been recovering. 

As for a safety net? I don’t have one. Both of my parents are deceased and even when they were here, they weren’t a safe support system. 

I’m out here on my own and I hate that for me. 

As for the very real possibility of becoming homeless again?

That scares the fuck out of me.

Poverty trauma is real.

I don’t know how to fix this. With that said, what I do know is that I refuse to ever have that experience again. If that means that I no longer exist, then so be it. My spirit won’t survive. 

This is not ok. 

Do you understand how dark it is to feel as though I can’t afford to be alive?

This level of stress is not sustainable.

My idea? A Rest, Restore & Relocation fund to help Black women with basic needs, space to rest and resources to relocate to others countries for their safety, mental health and quality of life.

The vision is to eventually expand this resource to anyone who needs it. For example, my trans sibs who are currently under attack. But first, I want to start with my folks.  I everyone to be well. 

I’m here to be a connector. I’m here to create new models. I’m to burn shit down. 

And yet, I can’t do that if I’m living in my car with two old lady cats and a traumatized dog. 

I once heard a quote that said “it’s hard to be a light when you can’t keep the lights on” and where is the lie? 

Those of us who do this work need to be cared for deeply. 

We need to be resourced so that we can care for others. 

As for me, who knows. 

I plan to sit with my ancestors and humbly ask if they would do me a solid and send me a miracle because my weary human body has done all that it can do. 

I is tired.

#investinblackrest