Project Homeless Connect (PHC) was different for me this time around, versus my experience with PHC5, because of the nature of the volunteer work I did at both events. For my first experience, I worked with an older lady and her sister, walking them through client services. We did not have much of a connection at the end of PCH5; however, we found somewhat of an understanding. I was also able to see a different side of PHC this quarter by walking around an 18-year-old girl through client services. I felt that there was a real connection between us, our experiences might have been completely different but the basic level of understanding the late teen years was easy and natural. We had no problems conversing as if we were forced into the same awkward school fieldtrip and were forced to be in the buddy system for the trip. By the end, we were talking as if we were best friends, about guys and about life in general. However, I had a difficult time accepting the fact that we had this invisible brick wall between us, the wall that she is going to have incredible difficulty crossing; the wall that is the definitive line between a life of ease and privilege and a life of constant struggle upward. She was 18, looking for permanent housing, living in a $150 per month apartment, and without any job. How quickly she fell to poverty, and how close she is now was a real wake-up call for me. I am 19, a spunky and outgoing college student, president of an organization, advisor, mentor, and soon to be RA. I have the world at my fingertips by being at Denver University and no matter what I did that day; I was not going to be able to help her reach that point, not in one day at least. It felt out of my hands, I was not in control and that was difficult to let go of. It made me reconsider my plans for the summer—so I applied for summer staff positions—and reiterated the importance of being independent and having my own financial stability, without my parents. For the second part of my day, I took up documenting PHC through my photography for The Clarion. Immediately when I put on the camera, the environment surrounding me changed. I was no longer just a volunteer. To some, I was an intruder, getting too close and too personal, documenting a very vulnerable time. For some, especially the kids, the camera was a source of excitement, a chance to be in the spotlight instead of one of the forgotten. Starting out, I had conflicts, ethical dilemmas that I had to face about documenting the event. I found myself holding back on some photos, observing and shooting with a telescope lens instead of getting too close. I also found myself trying hard to capture the emotion of the day to the point that I almost stereotyped the reactions I was looking for: the exhausted, degraded looking homeless person and the emotionally exhausted volunteer. The more I think about it, the more disgusted I am with my crass discrimination of photos I did take that day—disregarding some that I saw no emotion in—completely forgetting to adapt my shooting to the mood of the subjects. I am by nature and by experience, not quick to judge or to put labels on others; however, here I was doing just that. I was looking for the stereotype, possibly because of my inner photojournalist’s nature or possibly because I felt detached from the event by being behind the lense. I found the few moments I was looking for, shooting accordingly; however, I missed some key opportunities to capture the real spirit of the event: people helping people, enjoying their time relaxing for a day and learning from one another. It was the spirit I had when I was doing client service, and I lost by trying to create a photographer-subject boundary. If I could go back to that day, or if I get another opportunity to participate in a PHC, I would hope to not lose my spirit of volunteerism and have another try at documenting and photo journalism.
Overall, this quarter has been a quarter for discovery and changing perceptions. By participating in PHC and through my volunteering at DRM and the Bridge Project, I have been able to see more amounts of dedication and perseverance than I have seen from most of my encounters on DU’s campus. I have learned that this is most likely because it takes that extra 150% to even be close to being on a level playing field as others in society. It is admirable and deserves to be recognized. These people are not lazy, they are not dumb, they are not lacking any sort of commitment or dedication; they are victims. They are victims of bad luck and bad decisions that forced them into difficult positions, into poverty, and they were pushed so deep that it becomes a cycle, and a difficult one to break. They work twice as hard as many other people, many university students. They came to our campus for one day, in all humility and with the strength of a super-human because they needed outside help. An act of that magnitude takes extreme amounts of courage because it can be incredibly humiliating. I admire all who came out and I applaud all the volunteers that honestly went into Friday looking to learn and to grow from the experience, not because they had to for class but because they genuinely wanted to help. This was a fantastic event for Denver University and I hope we get to host it again.
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