In the novel Les Miserables, the main character, Jean Valjean, serves nineteen years in prison for stealing bread. Reading the novel, it is hard to miss the subtle call for a society that offers help to those who are hungry and in need.

Before I became homeless, I never saw American homeless people as desperate and worthy of help, like Jean Valjean was on the day he stole bread. But today, sometimes I do.

When I look back at my own life, I remember when my untreated schizophrenia made any type of work impossible. It was at this time that I began to break the law in order to eat and sleep.

I looked for food in garbage, though it may have not been allowed. I slept in a churchyard every night, ignoring the “no trespassing” sign. (It seemed this ordinance was rarely enforced, as other homeless people frequently slept on the church property while I lived there). In my severe mental illness, I saw this as my lifestyle.

I never intended to be disrespectful. But in my hunger and exhaustion, at some point, I had to eat and sleep. If I had been able to work, I probably never would have found myself in a situation where I broke the law.

Unfortunately, I am not unique, and homeless people who regularly break the law without intending to be disrespectful are everywhere.

Before I became mentally ill, I volunteered at a church that served lunches to the homeless. Every week, we served a quiet and reserved man in his fifties who appeared to be at least twenty pounds underweight. It was clear to me, after just a few minutes of conversation, that he was either developmentally disabled or mentally ill.

I could not imagine who would hire him in his condition, unless a job was specially created for him. It seemed as though he would be eligible for social security income, or some other type of government aid. Apparently, he had slipped through the cracks of the system of care.

When homeless people fall through the cracks of social support systems, they can end up in jail. In these cases, incarceration is generally not the solution, but it happens all too often. During my year living outside in the churchyard, I was briefly incarcerated twice, a few days each time, for trespassing on the campus of my former university. Unfortunately, after serving time, nothing really changed. I returned to the churchyard and resumed my homeless life. I slept outdoors in a dirty sleeping bag and spent my days wandering in parks.

Sometimes, I remember the thin older man who came for free lunches. I hope that he was never sleeping or looking for trashed food in the wrong place at the wrong time. I hope he never ended up in jail.

Today, I am grateful for my parents’ involvement in my life, which led to finding a doctor, a treatment plan, and eventually my full recovery. In order to get me off the streets, I needed treatment for mental illness.

For homeless people who refuse help (as I did prior to my first hospitalization) and continue to live outside, the solution may be mandatory participation in a mental health court, where the goal is “treatment in lieu of incarceration.” The purpose of these courts is to address the root of the problem, mental illness. Participants in mental health courts may be required to attend doctors’ appointments, try new medications, work with a counselor, or utilize other services that can help them rebuild their lives. Some courts find participants a temporary place to live.

Even though I do not know the solution to the homeless crises, I am convinced that compassion is important. Making an effort to imagine yourself without food or a safe place to sleep is a good place to start.

Today, on medication, I live a productive, reclaimed life. I hope to see other mentally ill homeless Americans get the medical help they need, not jail time.

 

Image taken from pixabay.com