Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses... SIKE!

I'm having a problem. No existential crisis or anything like that, but a problem nonetheless.

The economic crisis that is the USA right now, is causing a disruption to upper middle class White folks lives. I take it back: for them, this might be an existential crisis.

As with any economic upheaval, the poor and disenfranchised are the first and often hardest hit. These also happen to be, in most cases, people of color.

Every winter, public libraries see an increase in homeless patrons. This year however, the "problem" is exacerbated by our devastated economy. Homeless men, women, teens, and young adults (20's), and families. The mentally and physically handicapped, not to mention the sick, the smelly, and dirty.

All sharing a public space with Entitled Americans.

Some of my coworkers feel we must "control" the problem, that these individuals should be removed from inside the library. Patrons complain that their tax dollars were not meant to run "another shelter" (never mind we have ONE shelter in SLC).

Never mind the ONE shelter in SLC kicks residents out during the day time. Never mind it is cold and snowy outside. Never mind that the library has chairs, internet access, bathrooms, and a fireplace to relax by. These people, these homeless are a threat to Privileged America, and God forbid we should be reminded of that privilege.

Perhaps it is because I was once in the same shoes as the disenfranchised patrons of public libraries that I feel empathy and understanding for their tough position. Or perhaps it is my complete and total fear of hearing those final words, "When I was hungry you did not feed me; when I was naked you did not cloth me. When I was imprisoned you did not come to see me; when I was ill you did not come to minister to me," and not having a answer.

Unless they are breaking the rules, for God's sake, leave those people, and yes, they are people before they are anything else, alone.

Conversations with the elderly

Nurse walks in to check on the patient sitting by the window. "Hi there sweetie, how are you feeling today? Do you want me to move you away from the window? You must be getting hot!" Without waiting for a response, the nurse unlocks the wheelchair and moves it in front of the TV.

"There you go dear, you'll be more comfortable here." Leaning forward, the nurse smiles and runs her hands over the soft hair pulled back in a simple pony-tail. "I'll be back to check on you later, okay?"
***
What kind of relationship do you see going on here? Who is this mysterious patient?

You probably are thinking it's a young child in the hospital, or possibly a mentally handicap individual in some care facility.

Unfortunately, this fictional conversation is taking place between a 20-30 female nurse and an elderly woman. This conversation is all too often a reality.

I have known people who think it is okay to speak to elderly people with that same high-pitched, sing-song tone we use with children. They think it is okay to give them pet-names like dear, sweetie, and honey.

And it pisses me off every damn time.

I look at it this way: I'm X age (24). They are Y age. Out of sheer respect for their age, their life experience, etc. I address the elderly as they tell me to ("you can just call me MaryJane"), by their last name (Mr./Mrs. so-and-so), or simply sir or ma'am.

Guess you could say, my momma raised me right.

Did yours?