It is said that ignorance breeds contempt in this world. If this statement is true there must be a flipside: that awareness creates respect.
The homeless on the streets of Dublin are a passive fixture to most; like the Jim Larkin statue on O’Connell Street or Phil Lynott off Grafton Street. We pass these often familiar faces, cocooned in layers of sleeping bags and clutching coffee cups outside Spar, on the Hal’ penny Bridge or around Temple Bar. After living in rural Co.Wexford most of my life I was shocked at the level of homelessness on Dublin’s Streets. Above all, I was intrigued by them. I wanted to find out where they came from, what led them to the streets in the first place, were they previously employed, were they angry and to know if they had hope for the future. What are their stories?
Uris
“No money, no vodka, no girl!” Uris, 47, tells me quite cheerfully on a cold afternoon on Dame Street when I ask how he’s doing. Originally from Latvia, he had a fall recently and broke his leg but he appreciates the help he is getting from St. James’ Hospital. Despite the awkwardness of his current state on crutches he still has the good humour to joke about the morphine tablets he receives from the hospital! He also attends the Homeless Persons Unit on Gardiner Street, showing some papers he had stamped detailing his record there. His family are home in Latvia but he does not see them much. Uris was delighted to have his photo taken and to give his account of what surely is a lonely life for him.
David
David, from England, has been homeless for four years. When asked what lead him to take up life on the streets he laughs. “Drinking and fighting. I was in trouble with the police ages ago and I got chucked out of everywhere! But I’ve been good so far.” Tales of the hardy bucks’ antics spring to mind, but David also threw in his tuppence worth about the government services for the homeless in Ireland. Like many, he does not go near the shelters because “you get your phone taken off you. If you take your shoes and socks off they will go too!” He acknowledged that it was hard at the moment. David said that it would cost him €50 for two nights’ accommodation but today he’s only made €20. He had an interesting anecdote regarding the hostels. “One of the lads, he got chucked out last night, so a woman got in his room instead. Men are not allowed to go in the women’s room and the women are not allowed go into the men’s room. But, the person that was on [duty] put her in with us, so we all went downstairs and complained!” David explained and laughed that “then we all got chucked out ourselves!” David is adamant he will not be on the streets much longer. He will have a job sorted with a friend’s daughter and it will pay his hostel for the week. David is a father himself and laughs about his daughters ringing him up everyday looking for money which he never has! However he is grateful for having family, something many of the homeless have lost touch with, and states that he’ll try to make it home to them for Christmas.
Austin
“People think it’s easy to sit down and put your hand out, but it’s so degrading. Five or ten years ago I would never have dreamt for one minute that I would be sitting on the street.” Austin was born in Ireland, lived in England and is back again now. He has been homeless for six months now. A former drug dealer, he had to leave England after being shot in the back with a sawn off shotgun. He cannot return or he will be killed he says. Together, Austin and his ‘street brother’ Carl look out for each other and do their best to avoid being robbed. Austin says he sleeps with his money in his socks and the best way to get through these cold nights is to find as many sleeping bags as you can. What Austin really wants is a chance to work again and support himself. He is a trained chef, but needs to get off the streets in order to secure employment. Austin is also tired having to put up with people’s sniping comments. “Sit down and talk to me and I guarantee you, you’ll have a different view,” stated Austin. His friend Carl claims “we’re just figures on the street, just a percentage. This is the most embarrassing thing you can ever do.”
Allen
Allen has been homeless for five years. He is an emotional character. “Life is more down than up,” he says, “but you just get on with it.” Allen was employed before, and would gladly work again, but with no fixed abode he cannot get a job. The housing situation is a contentious issue for many homeless. Allen moves around throughout the day. According to Allen the only place he cannot sit is at the ATM machines. He says you’ll be ‘nicked’ straight away by the Gardaí for that. He says you can get to know some of the shop security lads; when they come out for a smoke you can chat with them. This is often his only form of social interaction. Allen stays away from the homeless hostels. He is not comfortable with the ‘other people’ there.
Michael, Martin and John are three homeless characters around Temple Bar. John came to Ireland from Leeds with some travellers who were kind to him and gave him work. However, John is an alcoholic and this has diminished his chances of employment. He says, contrary to the beliefs of other homeless, the facilities here in Ireland are far superior to those in England. John believes that it’s much easier to get a proper meal here and a roof of over your head. He also finds the people in Ireland much more giving and kind. Leaving for Leeds soon, John says he will be sad to leave his friends behind but that he will never forget them. John, Martin and Michael mind each other and help make it through each day together. They are a fine example of the solidarity that can be found on the streets and which is critical for their survival.
Trinity Vincent de Paul has been working with the homeless for years. Recently I took part in their soup run. Other students said they find the work very rewarding and that it is great to meet and talk with the homeless as they are usually very friendly. One homeless lady I met on Westmoreland Street was very grateful of the soup and sandwiches from the VDP. She appreciated her situation saying that she was much better off than a lot of homeless who were “too old to be out” and that knowledge gets her through each cold night.
The soup run sets off every Tuesday and Friday night from Teach Mhuire on Gardiner Street. This is a transitional residential home for alcoholics and drug addicts who were once homeless. There are several more of these dotted around the country; they house up to 600 collectively. They have been very successful in helping addicts reform and get back some quality of living. Louisa Miller, Activities Officer for the Trinity VDP, recounted the stories of a few of the people involved with Teach Mhuire that have turned their lives around. Kenny, 22, had his past marred by death in his family. As a solution he subsequently turned to alcohol and ended up homeless. With the aid of Teach Mhuire, he is now a changed man, involved with drama productions in Teach Mhuire and getting his life back on track. Dave is another young man who has reformed and is now studying social care in college.
One of the great characters involved with the VDP and the soup run is Pat. Pat was on and off the streets for twenty years and also battled with alcoholism but now claims he is happier than he has ever been in his life. He is beacon of hope for many on the streets. He talks to the homeless on the soup runs and assures them that they can turn their lives around, that life does not always have to be a torment and struggle sleeping in a doorway or fighting addiction.
The homeless have revealed that it is strikingly easy to fall by the wayside in society and brutally difficult to fight your way back. However, it is always possible to include everyone in a community, no matter their circumstances. We can become more aware of the homeless if we engage with them, perhaps get involved with a charity or even just have a casual conversation with them. Ultimately, it is reasonable of them to ask for this respect and it is enlight
