After I posted my last post, Adam and I had a conversation in which he offered up his opinion on what I wrote. I welcomed his critique with gratitude, and as it turns out, I happen to agree with his opinion and analysis of why I wrote it the way I did.
He felt that in it, it seems like I'm trying to say something without actually saying it because I'm afraid of what people will think of me if I actually said it. In looking back and doing an honest search of my feelings, I can confirm that this is true. In that post, I left out a great many details which, when shared, reveal the truth about the experience. He, having heard these details and knowing me well, understood what I was trying to say, but he thought that from an outsider's perspective, it wouldn't make a whole lot of sense. He offered this up free of any implication that I should change it. Through the conversation, I decided that I wanted to write another post about the same experience that relates the whole truth, directly, in black and white. I will leave that post in its place since I think it has value as a learning tool of what the difference is between sharing the whole truth and bending it. I've made a comment on that post that contains this post's introduction and a link to this post. The two posts may then easily be compared side by side. Wednesday, 24 January 2024, I visited a local food pantry, and on my way in to town, I opted to use the sidewalk for a portion of the trip. Even when bike lanes are available, a sidewalk is generally preferable for the bit of extra buffer it provides from drivers doing who knows what while they're driving, or perhaps worse: Tesla vehicles in self-driving mode. It's not uncommon to encounter people walking dogs on the sidewalk, obviously, and whenever I approach someone from behind on a sidewalk (dog or no), I slow to approximately their speed of travel, ring my bell gently to alert them to my presence, and pass them. As you can imagine, the reactions from the people walking range from jumping off the sidewalk clearing the entire way, a calm veer to one side, and irritated comments to downright rage and refusal to move. On this particular day, I encountered the latter in a couple, a man and woman, each walking a dog. First, the man turned his head halfway around and grunted, "Bike lane, lady," in what I imagine was the most flat and hateful tone he could muster. The woman, though she shared his demeanor and opinion, opted to move over to walk behind the man, and as I approached, scathed, "There's a bike lane down there for you, yehnn yehhng yehhng yehngyehh yehhn yenn." I didn't hear the second half, but what I have printed here is the best way I can think of to reproduce what it sounded like. Some traffic was passing at the time, making it difficult to distinguish. At this point, I had been slowly biking behind them ever since ringing my bell and was now passing them, and I politely stated, "Well, it's also pretty dangerous down there." Down there, of course meaning the bike lane. A retort was uttered, but I did not hear it as they were now behind me, nor did I care to stop for an argument about my right to use the sidewalk. Needless to say, this encounter was an unpleasant one. It soured my mood for about 3 minutes, at which time I realized, "they're probably just agents" which made it a lot easier to digest. I've posted about it here before that as a result of Adam's outspokenness of, well, the truth, he and I have been the targets of organized operations to kill him for over a decade now, hence the "agents" line of thought. I know how that sounds to the vast majority of people which is why I don't really readily speak about it so blatantly. Whether or not you want to believe that is...whatever I guess, but I think that it is still important to realize how people can be misleading and out-and-out lie in order to get you to submit to their will, and the following encounter, combined with the dog walkers, illustrates just how that can be done and is done.
The point of the dog walkers becomes clear later on. I tried to set aside the emotions that arose as a result of this encounter so that I could continue to enjoy my morning, but if truth be told, I was more than ready for some sympathy. When I arrived at the pantry, the emotions faded to the background once the activity of selecting foods came to the forefront.
Upon exiting the pantry, I found myself passing a table set up under a tent with boxes of protein-rich meal bars, a plastic tub containing various types of jerky, and a couple boxes of socks. There was also a sign that said, "Point in Time Survey: PIT" with a graphic that I couldn't tell what it was supposed to be. There were two women sitting at the table, one of whom is alternatingly hostile and friendly toward me whenever I encounter her. She volunteers at two pantries in town, both of which I occasionally visit, and at one of them, she makes fun of me, tries to make me look stupid in front of other people, and at the other (the one at which this encounter took place), she is as friendly and warm as you might expect from a stranger who is in a good mood and enjoying what they're doing. She's downright pleasant. The other woman was said to be "from The City," presumably a city employee. They were apparently taking surveys of the homeless, or "people without permanent housing," as they euphemistically put it. All my defensive pricklies were immediately activated because of my awareness that though not everyone I encounter is an agent, anyone could be. This situation didn't seem necessarily out of the ordinary but raised a red flag nevertheless. I hesitantly agreed to take their survey saying, "As long as you don't mind if I pack my food up while you ask your questions." It didn't occur to me until maybe 45% of the way through the survey that if I hadn't said that, they might have just handed me the clipboard with the survey, and I might have filled out the information myself. We'll never know. When I said it, I was thinking, "well, how can I make this take up as little of my time as possible?" I knew I'd be organizing the food into my various bags anyway, so I thought I might as well do that while they were asking the questions.
So I organized my food selections into my pannier and tote bags while the city woman asked me the questions. First question: your name? Second question: last initial? Right here, we can see that they are establishing that this survey is intended to give the impression that it is anonymous. They only want my last initial. Adam brought up the point during our discussion that a name isn't even relevant to the food pantry or to the government on a survey of homeless people that the pantry serves. Further, pretty much all the questions are irrelevant. We've both volunteered at food pantries before, and the only thing they need to really know is how many people they're serving so that they know up for how many people they need to divide the food. The only reason a food pantry takes down names, and we know this from experience as volunteers, is because the government forces them to.
Third question: your birthday? I told her the month and day. Fourth question: year? Red flag number two. A survey that doesn't require your full last name but requires your date of birth? So the truth begins to unfold that they explicitly want to identify me personally. More unfolding to come. I actually thought to ask, "Is that really necessary?" but instead told her the year. Even though I was uncomfortable giving her this information, I gave it to her anyway. I guess my best explanation is a lack of self-confidence and the irrational and unwarranted fear that I wouldn't be allowed to take any of the meal bars with around 15 grams of protein each if I didn't answer their stupid little questions. At this point in my pantry-going experience, to anyone observing, it is clear that I opt for protein bars and powders, as many as possible, whenever possible, so the bait was effective. Now may be a good time to explain the relevance of the encounter with the dog walkers earlier that morning. While their cutting remarks and hateful attitudes are easily sloughed off and recovered from given enough time, Adam explained that they induce a temporary lowering of self-esteem that results in a need for validation. I was being greased up. Looking back, I can see exactly how (and that) the tactic worked. Bingo, bango, whaddya know: two women speaking in saccharin tones at the pantry need people to take a survey so they "can prove, basically to the federal government, that they do actually help..." Here was an opportunity where I could "be of assistance" to these people, thereby boosting my ego and lifting the self-esteem that was just lowered not more than 90 minutes earlier. I could feel important again. Of note here is that when they were explaining to me why they were taking the surveys, the explanation was simply, "so that we can prove that we do actually help..." but the sentence sort of drifted off without a definite sounding conclusion. It was while I was being surveyed that another woman "without permanent housing" came out and was being surveyed that the little "federal government" detail was included when they explained it to her which I just happened to overhear. In thinking about it, if you are from the government and want someone who is opposed to the notion of government to take your survey, you would probably bend the truth to omit the part about how you're reporting your results to the federal government.
There were of course, several easy-to-consider questions like how long you've been homeless; do you live in a tent or in a vehicle; do you stay in the forest, by a river or lake, on BLM land; how long have you been in this county; do you have a job; how do you receive income (families/friends help, job, panhandling, etc.) and so on. Here is another red flag: a way to identify me. So we've got my first name, last initial, full date of birth, and the fact that I receive money from "families/friends help."
Then came the section that is the most troubling to me. Have you ever experienced domestic violence. As it turns out, Adam and I have both experienced domestic abuse. When we lived with his mother and brother, his mother constantly berated us both verbally and often abused me physically. Adam, of course, was always swift to intervene, pull her off of me, and calm her down. So after answering, "actually, yeah" to the question, she marked it down on her sheet, and I immediately offered "but not from my boyfriend. His mom tried to push me down some stairs once." No one said anything or wrote down the context. Next question.
So you can see here, without any of the details included and out of context, on paper, I'm in a relationship with Adam and have experienced domestic violence. The vast majority of people will automatically construe this information against Adam, and this is what made me feel compelled to write a blog post about the whole experience in the first place.
He wrote about our experiences on this subject in a musing on his website titled, "Don't Stay with Family" on 02 September 300,023. Seen here (search "Don't Stay with Family" to skip to it): https://www.inventati.org/1337gallery/musings.html I bring it up here to show that this information was publicly available well before both the survey and the blog post that you are currently viewing. The troubling survey continued. It was a "check all that apply" question asking: How did you become homeless (religious/cultural differences with others in your previous living arrangement, family made you become homeless, could not pay rent, escaping domestic abuse, other, etc). When I related this part of the survey to Adam, he pointed out that no one's citing religious or cultural differences as their reasons for being homeless and that this question on the survey further serves to identify me personally. Religious differences generally result in arguments, rifts in familial or other personal ties, but not homelessness. I answered, "definitely the first one" for this and said, "and I guess the second one sort of" indicating "family made you become homeless" because of when, toward the end of the lease on the apartment we all inhabited, Adam's mother said, "when we move, you're not coming with us." This was the first of a few steps that led to Adam and me sharing my tiny childhood-bedroom at my father's house. Over the course of the two years that we spent there, my father continually criticized Adam and constantly tried to force me to convert to what I would call his religion. I don't think anyone else besides me or Adam would word it this way. My father, along with all the other members of the congregation, worships his government. His worship involves giving up his time in exchange for a pittance so small that he can barely afford to maintain status quo. Apparently, there is honor in this. After he is done selling his time, he has so little time or energy left that anything he wanted to do with his time falls to the wayside. Under threat of death, he is only ever doing the bidding of his god, his government, and never following his own will. Every now and then, he would send me pictures of "now hiring" signs posted in front of various businesses. Once, he printed out the entire application and tenant's handbook to the apartment complex where he and my mother first lived together. The thing was a stack of 8.5" x 11" papers an inch and a half thick. As he was leaving the house, without saying a word, he dropped the thing onto the hardwood floor outside my bedroom door where it resonated with a loud cracking boom. Eventually, knowing that we did not have the money and that we had no interest in converting to his religion, he demanded either $500 for each month that we would continue to use the cramped bedroom in his mildewy house or that we leave. Convert or die. So, rather than converting to his religion and assimilate into his culture, we chose to leave. This survey question was very obviously intended to identify me personally.
To the city-woman, I also mentioned that it was kind of complicated, that there was a bit of choice involved. I also said that leaving on my bike was the best decision I've made in my life so far, and I stand by that. The non-city woman said, "I've heard a lot of people say that today." I'm not sure if city-woman made a note of that or not. I'd bet you dollars to donuts that I was the only person who indicated religious/cultural differences on that question though, so now we have: first name, last initial, full date of birth, "families/friends help" with income, has experienced domestic violence with no context given, and religious/cultural differences as the cause of homelessness.
More questions. Do you experience any of the following (addiction to drugs or alcohol, debilitating pain, post-traumatic stress, domestic violence, etc.). I said, "I guess a little PTS" but did not explain that it is because of the anxiety I experience when I encounter people other than Adam as a result of being hurt and punished by people, one way or another, my entire life, for being myself. (It's not just me, it's you too). I did not indicate that I currently experience domestic abuse--because I don't. What I experience domestically is better categorized as bliss. But: first name, last initial, full date of birth, "families/friends help" with income, has experienced domestic violence with no context given, religious/cultural differences as cause of homelessness, and has post-traumatic stress. Somewhere in there, I noticed that "traumatic event" was one of the options for one of the "check all that apply" questions. I don't remember what the question was asking, but I remember thinking that it might be considered odd that I claim to experience "post-traumatic stress" without indicating that I experienced a traumatic event. I guess they'll do with that one whatever they want. Finally came some more "easy" questions regarding personal details: do you live with other people? What is their relationship to you? (boyfriend, "we actually celebrated 18 years together just a few weeks ago." "oh, wow! congratulations!" of course there was no box to check for "oh wow, congratulations"). Do you identify as male or female? Do they identify as male or female? What is your age group? (of the options, 35-44 was the appropriate one), so: first name, last initial, full date of birth, "families/friends help" with income, has experienced domestic violence with no context given, religious/cultural differences as the cause of homelessness, and female 35-44 in a relationship with male 35-44. By the end, I was what the hep cats might describe as "so done" with it, and it felt like a lot of focus on domestic violence, about 35-40% of the questions--lots of opportunities for me to make a claim about domestic violence, shoving it in my face. I was very uncomfortable the whole time, not necessarily because of the domestic violence but because I knew pretty much exactly what was going on but did not posess the fortitude to metaphorically kick those slugs off and bust outta that puke hole. While I don't usually mind sharing information about my experiences, I don't trust these people to not use this information against me--against Adam. Obviously it occurred to me that the whole setup may well have been a data-mining operation, specifically targeted to glean information about Adam and myself under the guise of collecting information about the homeless. In fact, this is what I thought from the start, but, like I said, I wanted those protein bars, and they knew it. I probably could have refused the survey and still taken the food though.
During our conversation, Adam spoke about how most homeless people he sees, and this has been my experience as well, are men. The point to be made here is that men will probably just deny any experience of domestic violence because no one would believe them anyway.
At one point, the city woman said, "this is soooo helpful to us," and I didn't say it aloud, but I thought in a sardonic tone, "I bet it is..." Next time I see a bitch with a clipboard, I ain't stoppin'. Comments are closed.
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