Learning About Those I Used to Judge

Last week, loaded down with groceries and waiting for the 52 bus in Columbia Heights, I ran into a Street Sense vendor I first met the day after his sales orientation. Back on that snowy day in December, I had asked him about his New Year’s resolutions for a feature I was writing to be in the next issue. This day he stopped me and reintroduced himself. He confessed that he just realized a few days before that he was in the paper. Minutes later the bus arrived; I said goodbye and couldn’t stop smiling on the bus.

I’ve written the stories of Street Sense vendors since March 2010, which has slowly become a part of my identity. Walking around the city, I run into vendors I can greet by name. People come to office asking to have their profiles written. I am organizing interviews on weekends and contacting vendors by phone and through email.

But it wasn’t always like this. When I first started writing vendor profiles, I would head down to the offices at 1317 G Street NW once a week and wait. And wait. Sometimes for hours. When a vendor would come in to buy papers, I would ask if they wanted his/her profile written. They didn’t know me and most didn’t want to tell me their story. Many vendors said they would be ready next time or later, but that time rarely came.

I couldn’t hide my excitement the first time I read my byline. But, two weeks later that vendor came in with a new self-written profile. I guess that’s the thing about life stories: they are precious and they are ours alone. I can’t blame any vendor who hesitant to tell me his or her story; the stories of homeless men and women have been told by others for a long time.

How often do we pass people panhandling on the street and think “get a job”? Earlier this month the mainstream media picked up the story of Ted Williams, the man with the golden voice and made him an unsuspecting star. When he was arrested two days later following a dispute with his daughter, how many shook their heads and stopped paying attention because the stereotype prevailed. These stereotypes never factor in the individual and their story. People gave him the moon and expected him, after years of drug addiction and homelessness, to be a golden example.

The stories of Street Sense vendors and anyone on the fringe whose voice is silenced are among the most important to be told because they have something to teach us that we can’t learn if we don’t listen.

Every other week I get off the bus around G and 14th Street NW and walk toward the office stopping to say hello to Philip, who is religiously on the corner selling papers way before I’ve even crawled out of bed. Downstairs I joke with vendors I know and ask about sales as they wait to buy papers. Heading upstairs, I spend a few hours revising articles and reaching out to new vendors. These are some of the most important hours of my week: I’ve learned so much about the individuals I used to judge. And I hope you have, too.


Region |Washington DC

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