It was especially cold today in Cincinnati, in the teens. While I lived outside in the churchyard in southern California, it never reached far below fifty degrees. The moderate weather made it possible for me to spend almost every night outside, from February of 2006 until March of 2007.

This afternoon, I was in a hospital waiting room, waiting to get my blood drawn, when I noticed a man who appeared homeless. He was asleep in one of the upright chairs with his head on his fist, and I could smell him from a few feet away. To me, it’s that familiar, dirty smell that I recognize from volunteering with the homeless. (I do believe that, when I was homeless, I was careful enough washing up in public restrooms that I never smelled that bad. I was so alone at that time that I suppose I will never know for sure). Apparently, this poor, dirty man was taking shelter from the freezing weather outside.

Our American system of provision, health care and criminal justice for homeless people like this man is a broken system. I highly doubt that this man had a malicious will—that he intended to do something wrong, or to be disrespectful, or to commit a crime. It appeared that he was desperate to stay alive in this weather, and was seeking shelter like a lost animal.

If I saw a child sitting in the waiting room who smelled bad and was alone, I would call the police. I know they would take the child to a place where there was shelter, food, counsel, and educational opportunities. I wish we had justice for adults who act like children, and have the basic needs that children have. I wonder if anyone would hire this man. If he has no family, or no one will care for him, what chance does he have?

For me, in 2003-2007, I could not work. If I had been offered a one hundred thousand dollar salary to do something as simple as sitting behind a reception desk, I could not have done it. In my insanity, my mind was like a broken record, or a cloud. I needed shelter, food, and a medication that would clear my broken mind. Instead, I lived outside, ate garbage, and suffered from hallucinations that medications could have eliminated. On two occasions, when I was acting very much like this man, I was picked up by police and incarcerated.

I hope that, someday, adults who act like children and have the basic needs of children will not be apprehended by police and put in cages. They need to be taken care of by a government whose policies have proven effective with needy children. If nothing else, taking care of these people’s basic needs is much cheaper in the long run than repeatedly incarcerating them.