Impressions

I try my best to live my life with an open mind, in everything I do, everyone I meet and all that I encounter. Obviously, that’s often easier said than done, but growing up my mother always stressed the importance of trying not to judge others before we truly know them. Like all people, I always have a first impression of a person. Sometimes I even make a game out of describing a stranger’s entire life story without ever even saying hello to them. This makes for a fun bar game if you ever feel awkward when you’re out. But that’s all superficial and I never let that game cloud the actual opinion I have of someone.

I think the easiest group of people to form a stereotype on are homeless individuals. We, as a society form the most egregious notions of the person holding a sign on the street corner, holding their hands out for our spare change. And it’s so easy to roll your eyes and believe they’re lazy, drug addicted, beggars. We often never stop to think how they actually may have ended up jobless, addicted to drugs and alcohol, or homeless in the first place.

I make it a point to not succumb to that impression. I know that this world is tough, jobs don’t pay enough, government assistance is awful, at best, and housing is astronomically priced. I realize that growing up low-income, with an alcoholic father that worked 12–16-hour days, roofing in the hot sun could have very well landed my family of 8 in the exact same scenario.

So instead of sticking my nose up, avoiding conversation, or mocking, I make the conversation, I ask the questions, I open my window and wave hand warmers at them in the winter, and I remember that above all else, they are humans just like me. And do you know what? I have met some incredible people that have simply had some really awful things happen to them. I am grateful for my mother’s teachings, and I am thankful that I can see past dirty clothing and notice the person beneath.