Speaking with Strangers

Colleen Edwards

Apr 16

By Colleen Edwards

When I was 6 years old, I was sitting in church with my kindergarten class. There was a homeless man sitting in the back of the pews and I remember thinking that I knew he was homeless and probably just wanted a friend. I went to go sit next to him and we didn’t say anything, we just sat. My teachers came over after they noticed I was gone and told me to come back up with the class. I didn’t understand. He didn’t have a home and possibly didn’t have a family. Why couldn’t we help him? This moment stuck with me.

A couple of years ago, I was working as a waitress in San Diego. I was attending school at SDSU and one of my classes was photography. I knew nothing about taking photos but I went out with my camera. I could barely approach anyone and ask to take their photo. I thought people would think of it as weird- a total stranger coming up asking for something personal? Oye.

However, my main goal was to take my camera and tell the stories of the homeless community. I had no idea how to approach this. I didn’t want them to think I was doing some sort of pity project. I honestly just wanted people to know a little bit more about the people they pass on the streets every day.

At first, I didn’t have my camera out. Most of the homeless people had their spots by the pier that they would hang around at. I started walking by everyday, saying hi, having small conversations, getting them to know my face. After a couple weeks I decided to take my camera out. One day, I kept passing this one homeless man. We made eye contact every time we passed. Finally, he stopped in front of me and asked if he knew me from anywhere. He said he felt like I was familiar. I had seen a lot of people around the beaches, but I definitely had not seen this man before.

I asked to take a photograph of him and he told me a little bit of his story. His name is Ganiell, and he is a refugee from Ukraine. He was 48 years old when this photo was taken and he has been homeless since he was 29. He told me he went to heaven, spoke to God, and he chooses to be homeless. As we were leaving each other, the last thing he said to me was “We can only achieve what we see.” I think about that a lot. I want to know what he meant. I think it means we can only accomplish what we think we can do. Lately, I’ve been struggling to think I can do anything successfully. But Ganiell was right. I can’t sit here thinking I’m not doing anything right because that won’t get me anywhere.

Tallen Bloom was another person I got to know during those few months of wandering around San Diego. Bloom is a homeless artist living on the streets, and he became homeless after his van broke down and he didn’t have the funds to fix it. When Bloom was growing up, his father was a sign painter. From a young age, he was surrounded by art. He drew a lot of sketches and cartoons, and eventually started accompanying his father on jobs he would do. He made these little palm frond flowers that looked like roses and sold them to people passing by. They were beautiful. Bloom takes a lot of pride in his work and I really admire that about him. I still have that little flower he gave me and I look at it to remind myself about finding happiness in little things.

Sir Captain Guru Aireoff Ray Alexander is from a small town in the Midwest. One of his first memories was of the “train guys” who he would see riding in boxcars past his house. They were hitchhikers who were in search of a better life elsewhere. He believed this was true freedom. He went on his own path and has lived in multiple states. He told me, “I want to be able to give back enough. There are small pieces of magic everywhere, and small pieces to give away. We have to show our appreciation for this world because we are borrowing it from our children.”

As I was doing this project, I realized I love learning about people. I love asking why they are the way they are. Strangers can sometimes have the best advice because they are so unbiased about your life. This is what I miss about the world right now- walking up to complete strangers and asking them to share something personal about themselves. Whenever I go through difficult times, these moments are what I think of. I think about the people who gave me a piece of themselves and trusted me. Since COVID, I moved from San Diego to my parents house in LA and finally to Chicago where honestly, I am lonely. I feel sad. I have people here- I have really good people here. But I feel alone sometimes. And I think it’s because I can’t walk on the streets and ask people to take a photograph. Or ask them the best part of their day. Or hear stories that make complete strangers laugh together. That sort of fulfillment doesn’t come around often enough, especially this past year.

*Jake and his dog, Keto. “I got him when he was six weeks old and he’s been by my side ever since.”*

Parts of my happiness came from seeking out strangers. It came from the stories and the people and the ability to feel close to someone without even knowing them. To be honest, these days, I find it difficult to find meaning in my daily life. Sometimes I feel as though I am just going through the motions. I feel less motivated and am struggling to find bits of happiness. But still, as I pass by people every day with masks and distancing, sometimes I catch someone’s eye. And I can tell they are smiling. And that little bit of connection makes me feel like my old self again.

Loneliness and quarantine isolation has pushed me to think about myself too- what I want out of myself and how I think about other people. I haven’t thought much in my 25 years about who I want to be or who I will become but a lot of the silence has made me think about those things. Happiness and loneliness come and go in waves but I think the most important thing I have learned is to actually realize that when I am happy, I need to take that moment and think, woah, this is it. This is the feeling I should be chasing.

When asked what young people should do with their lives, Kurt Vonnegut said, “The most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.” We are all in the same boat, searching for some sense of meaning in the world. However cliché that may sound, it is true. Kurt never lied.

The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning is make myself a cup of tea. It is a peaceful routine for me and even though it’s something small, it reminds me to take care of myself. Loneliness in all aspects has actually been good for me. Forcing myself to think of what truly makes me happy has been a journey that I am beginning to appreciate.

Overall, I am still learning about what makes me happy and sad and lonely and confused. But here is a little list of some things in the past year that have never failed to make me smile.

Honey Chai Tea. It smells like Christmas morning in a cup.
Banana Nutella Waffles. Nothing better.
Calling my dad and hearing him talk about how much warmer it is in California than
Chicago.
My mom sending me step by step recipes I never asked for but definitely need.
My mom sending me photos of her new haircuts.
A teeny sand Zen garden. I play with the sand all day on my desk.
Mike and Ike’s. (Red Rageous and Very Berry)
Maple Oatmeal.
Dwayne The Rock Johnson’s Instagram. His cheat meal videos get me through my days.
Candles, a book, a rainy day.
My people.
Fudgesicles.
Trader Joes. Specifically, cookie butter and chicken burrito bowls.
Quarantine birthday signs with little kids sitting on the front yard, eating homemade cake
and pizza. “Honk it’s my birthday!” Humans are so creative.
Burritos and tacos.

Loneliness doesn’t have to be something you need to fix. You can accept it, figure out what you need to learn from it, and know that this is just a little moment of your entire life. And as you walk by people every day, know that they might be lonely too.

Colleen Edwards is an American writer working within the homeless services system. She is currently based in Chicago and loves burritos.

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