And I Was Homeless

S. Dianne Williamson
Creative Essay #1
February 9, 2003
Dr. Dori Seider
History of Modern Women



EVEN THOUGH I WROTE THIS ESSAY FOR AMERICAN WOMEN WRITERS CLASS, IT HAD TO BE WRITTEN FROM THE STANDPOINT OF A CREATIVE ESSAY AND SINCE I WAS HOMELESS I USED MY EXPERIENCE IN IT. READ ON. NAME IS CHANGED. (WRITTEN IN 2003)

It was on a friday morning that I awoke and discovered that there was so much snow outside. Everything was closed including the college; however I had to get my medicine from the pharmacy downtown. I am living at the homeless shelter because my husband and I are separated and I had nowhere to go. At the homeless shelter, I have to be there the afternoon before to get a bed because the amount of women that can get into the shelter is forty-nine. We have to get out by eight am the next morning. So here I am with all of this baggage on my back. I walk into Dunkin Donuts to get a cup of decaf. I had no money so I had to ask someone for fifty cents for a cup of coffee. I know the people get tired of seeing me coming because they know that I am going to have my hand out. That's the life of a homeless person, whether male or female. This is how I spend my day. I stay in Dunkin Donuts and just observe persons coming in and out; usually the State of NJ workers who work upstairs in this seven story building on East State Street here in Trenton. Mind you, these workers come in all sizes, and colors dressing like they are so fabulously rich. Here I am in an old worn out coat, thrift shop item; boots that are a disgrace and slippery. Just a few months ago, I lived in Willingboro(high class) in a three bedroom, two and a half bath, and with a fireplace that was out of this world. Duraflame logs here we come! Acme Market, do not run out! The logs were needed to warm that colonial mansion. And to believe that I am now out here in this cold with a non-supporting family right here in this town, (yep that's what I said) with nowhere to go. That pisses me off! To continue my day I head to the Trenton Public Library at 9am to get on the computer or to read a book. At noon, I head over to the Soup Kitchen where there are others like myself who are hungry and want a free meal that is a hot cooked one. I am person number sixty. Hell! I offer to help others in the computer room because there are a lot of drug addicts around me and I am uncomfortable and have no use for them, none. After leaving the Soup Kitchen, I walk around looking for financial help from a local agency until I can get up on my feet. After all, I was used to being a suburban housewife who went shopping, fixed meals and hiding alcohol from the Mr. The Mr. was a man that I was married to for fifteen of my most precious thirty eight years. I remained homeless and slept in motels night after night alone until I found a room at the YWCA. There I slept with roaches who crawled under, on and over me. The place was utterly disquisting. After two years at the YWCA, I found my own four room apartment, small but it was better than the Y. This is where I am. I move in, there is peace, very quaint and quiet. My place was is of peace. I light yankee candles daily, listen to music and have a very beautiful doll collection and you know what? I live alone. I am happy being a divorced woman or how one looks at it, a single woman. I choose to stay this way because for the first time, S. Dianne Williamson knows who she is. My inner confidence has grown and I give back to the community what was given to me when I was down and out. I have the ability to bounce back from trials and situations, past and present. Perseverance is necessary as we saw with the woman writers discussed in the book. I look forward to reading about more about them this week. THIS IS A TRUE STORY.