“The Thoughts of a Homeless Child. Part 1”
By: Shyloh
Word on the Street Issue 48, October 2024
. . .
Growing up “too fast” is something I’ve worried about for a long time. I’ll be nineteen in a few weeks and I feel like I’m turning forty. I’ve been through more than a lot of other nineteen year olds, and not to create a tide pool of pity, but it’s been stressful. From moving around the U.S. because of my family’s income instability, to adoption and Foster Care. Some of the life choices I’ve made haven’t helped either; such as running away, setting fires, breaking and entering, and stealing. Now, I’m not going to be all sad and poor me, and this isn’t for the people who don’t understand growing up too fast. I was sitting outside in a homeless shelter tonight contemplating what other people my age would be doing at midnight on a random Tuesday in September. Now for any normal person, you’d be thinking…well, sleeping of course? But would you be? Not partying, drinking, smoking weed? I know that I’d be studying some textbook until four a.m. trying to get ready for class in the morning. Probably listening to sad pop or alternative music in a pair of Bluetooth earbuds. But no, I’m in a homeless shelter, sitting on a hard wooden bench contemplating the meaning of life. Life isn’t supposed to be predictable, but I don’t believe mine needs to be as chaotic as it feels. I hated growing up homeschooled, but later in life relished the solace it gave me. I remember thinking as a child that I would never go to college because it was a waste of time. But after I got my GED in juvenile detention, they started me off with college classes that I enjoyed. Looking back, I realize that I took education for granted. Now that I have different circumstances, education has had to take the back burner. It’s been difficult to remain positive in the face of negative outcomes, and the struggle to reclaim my childhood is a continuous uphill battle. Homelessness hasn’t helped, but being able to connect with peers has been the first step in feeling like the effort I’m putting in is paying off. Signing out, Shyloh.