By Teresa Schmidt, Project Homeless Connect volunteer

I’d heard that Project Homeless Connect was a rewarding experience for volunteers. But I might have had a different motivation than many of the volunteers. You see, I didn’t expect that the day would expose me to a side of homelessness I hadn’t encountered. I know Bellingham has its share of homeless men, women and children of all age groups and from all sorts of backgrounds. I’ve walked past them on park benches, on Railroad Ave., on freeway exits. I knew they each had a life story behind them.

I didn’t volunteer so I could have a rewarding experience. I just wanted to get off my butt and do something for somebody who needs a little help. Someone not as lucky as I. 

For most of us, it’s a series of fortunate happenstances that sit between a roof and warm bed and a shelter, motel, or bench. I’ve been broke. I’ve been sick. I’ve slept on couches. But always, there was the luck that kept me afloat until the next job, the next apartment, the next friend who would let me stay on the couch. I’ve been lucky.

At Project Homeless Connect, I helped at the Intake station. Each time a guest or guest family finished his or her paperwork and left my table, I felt a pang.  Of sympathy. Of empathy. Of frustration. That we, the richest country in the world, think its okay that families sleep in parks. That medical problems can take your health and your home. That the bailed-out financial institutions behind the economic crisis could have such a devastating affect on individual human beings. I felt such a mixture of emotions.

And then another guest would be guided to the chair across from me, and perk me back up by looking into my eyes, shaking my outstretched hand, and asking how I was. “I’m lucky,” I would think.

Yes, Project Homeless Connect was a day of community and service to an often-invisible segment of Bellingham’s population. It made me feel very connected to the people I briefly chatted with, and left me feeling that I must do much more than I’m doing to help my community. The real heroes are the service providers, the Food Banks, the folks who are out there, every day, doing the real work to help our less fortunate citizens who find themselves homeless—and to end homelessness forever.