Dallas Continues to Build Around Homelessness

© 2020 Miss Ari Photography

A man sleeps on a Downtown Dallas street.

During a photo shoot Saturday, my clients and I ventured into the streets of Downtown Dallas. During our walk, we discovered several good samaritans passing out bags of food to the many homeless persons in the area.

This is no rarity. Thousands of homeless people in the city depend on the good hearts and kind gestures of everyday citizens as a source of food each day.

After my shoot, I sat on the steps of City Hall and I watched the sun set and Saturday afternoon transition into Saturday night. I counted until my eyes began to swell with tears the number of people walking from the direction of inner-downtown towards the freeway. They had knapsacks, duffle bags, trash bags, sleeping bags - all of their earthly possessions in tow as they ventured in the direction of a place to sleep for the night.

A few dozen of these individuals passed right by me. Some of them stared into my camera as I shot photos of the scenery. Others looked at the concrete with each step that they took. A few smiled and appeared to stare into my soul.

In each direction that I turned, I saw a homeless person. Several of these souls dug through trash bins, while others picked up both coins and cigarette butts from the ground.

As I began to walk toward my apartment building, I noticed cranes in the sky - cranes that are positioned to build more offices, luxury apartments and high-rises in an already thriving Dallas.

The city continues to grow around a dying community of persons without.

When I think about the fact that I can get out of my bed in the middle of the night and walk a few feet to my own bathroom - I get chills. When I consider my refrigerator stocked at both its best and worst - I’m grateful. When I think about the thermostat that I can control whenever I enter my home, adjusting it to a temperature that makes me comfortable - I feel privileged.

I’ve lived in Downtown Dallas for more than a few years, and when I really sit and consider it - of the hundreds of homeless people who’ve approached me, maybe a handful have actually asked me for money. Instead, I’ve had women ask me if I could buy them sanitary napkins. I’ve had paraplegic veterans ask me to push them in their wheelchairs to the bus stop. I’ve had both men and women ask if I could buy them a coffee from a nearby lounge or bar. Sometimes the people just want a listening ear.

I find myself wondering moreso now than ever before how such a thriving city can turn a blind eye to human beings living without the basic necessities of life.

Why aren’t there more shelters? How is it that dozens of porta potties can be strategically placed throughout downtown for a marathon every other weekend, but no one thinks to give homeless people a place to urinate in private, as opposed to having them squat on the side of a building?

If not for the church congregations that tend to the homeless on Sundays (feeding them, providing articles of clothing and an encouraging sermon) - what would they do without the walking traffic during the weekend?

We accused “tent city” of being an eyesore, in essence condemning these individuals for being resourceful. Now they lay atop the freeway on the sidewalks, often times with their feet dangling off of the curb - inches away from moving vehicles.

Last Thanksgiving my colleagues and I took our students to the annual “Feast of Sharing” at Fair Park, where hundreds of homeless individuals were provided unlimited food, drink and entertainment. The recipients were grateful and we all were humbled. On the bus ride back to school, one of my students asked with the purest innocence: “Miss, where will the people get food tomorrow?”

Saturday evening, as I walked back to my apartment - I pondered that question.

These people, many of whom were once employed, productive citizens of the city and even veterans fade into every night and unfortunately out of the minds of many until it is a holiday season or a severely cold night.

Imagine if we only got the things we need when strangers thought of us.