...there but for the grace of God go I.

[Michie]

I never thought I’d be one of those people. I grew up in the North Bay – that largely agricultural, suburban, and affluent section of the San Francisco metro-area that comprises Marin, Sonoma, and Napa counties. When I moved to Berkeley to attend CAL, I was shocked by a lot of what I saw – homelessness, used hypodermic needles in the gutters, and the sometimes erratic and even violent behavior from those who wandered from People’s Park to the Marina. Walking to campus from my apartment every day, I had a set route. Eventually, I got used to stepping around people who were sitting or lying on the sidewalks; I expertly maneuvered around the human obstacles in my path; and occasionally encountered the same set of pan-handlers asking for money. At first, I would give them a few dollars. In the morning I would routinely eat my breakfast as I walked. Instead of change, a couple of times I offered a homeless person a banana or a bottle of water; usually, they didn’t want it. I talked to a few of them – they had tragically sad stories: abuse at home, alcoholism, and mental illness. I felt sorry for them, but I thought they were particularly (if not largely) to blame for their current own circumstances.

Continued below.
…there but for the grace of God go I. | Joseph Sciambra