Candace and Solo stood outside the state’s only teen homeless shelter the other day huddled in the hope of better days to come and cold only in their resolve not to let circumstances get them down.
Down and out is a state of mind, not a condition of life, Candace keeps gently pointing out. “It’s not the thing, it’s how you look at the thing,” she says.
“This is the situation I’m in, but this situation is not me.”
Her dream, though admittedly still a few turns of better luck away, is being owner of a nice little restaurant. “Not that I’m a great cook, I’m not. I just want to own a nice place where people can come and eat and read poetry and leave full. And, oh, it would be in a much warmer state.”
Solo agrees, but he’s not talking about the weather, even thought being from Florida you’d think being 70 degrees below his normal outside operating temperature and 180 degrees off the course he had in mind is a factor.
“Life just throws you a curve sometimes,” he says with the sureness of someone who’s seen his share of beanballs. “And you just got to do what you have to do, so I’ve just stepped aside for a minute. But like David’s lost sheep, I’ll be back.”
The Old Testament reference is intentional and understood by Candace, his newest friend and the only person he trusts at the moment. Each recognized a genuine fellow traveler for more spirit and deeper meaning in life.
The chances of that are rarer than finding a sack full of money — and a lot more valuable in the long run.
“The fact of the matter is, no matter how tough things look,” Candace says, “if you’ve got someone to love you, who could ask for more. I don’t miss home, but I miss love, and I’m just glad that even if this is never a path I ever thought I would be on, I’m glad it crossed his.”
Despite the impending celebration of romantic love, the two are talking about something different. Something that Solo sums up as “that love that’s better, that comes from knowing someone has got your back.”
And minding your back and front and all sides is pretty much a full-time job, says Zach Bale, a Volunteers of America Utah staff member who looks after the shelter, 655 S. State, and its circulating occupants “who are all different, who are each more resilient than a dozen of us put together and who really just need to feel, maybe just for a few minutes every day or so, that they’re OK.”
To that end, photo journalists news and media outlets are setting Saturday aside as a Do1Thing campaign for arguably the most neglected homeless Americans — youth who have run away or been driven off and too often feel rejected by a system that seems to hurt as much as help.
“A lot of these kids have never had the security of being a kid being taken care of by parents,” Bale said. “So many don’t know how to take care of themselves. How can you if you’ve been abused by the people who are supposed to be your protectors?”
“Need is up 150 percent,” Bale said, noting that there are many “1 Things” people can do, chief among them is to visit the shelter on Saturday afternoon “and just find out what we’re doing and who we are.
“And, if you can’t think of a thing, we’ll happily provide you a copy of our wish list.”
I have been interested in photography since I received my first film camera at the age of six. Being a photojournalism student at Penn State has opened many doors for me and provided experiences that have directly contributed to my development as a journalist, artist and most importantly an empathetic adult.