Pubdate: Sun, 25 Oct 2009
Source: Victoria Times-Colonist (CN BC)
Copyright: 2009 Times Colonist
Contact: http://www2.canada.com/victoriatimescolonist/letters.html
Website: http://www.timescolonist.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/481
Author: Tyytler Macdonald, Times Colonist
Note: Tyytler MacDonald lived homeless on Victoria's streets for several 
months but at
this moment has a roof over her head and a lot of gratitude for good friends.

A LETTER FROM THE STREETS FOR PM HARPER

Canada Abandoning A Whole Class Of Citizens To Homelessness,
Poverty

Hi, Mr. Harper. You've been on my mind lately, especially on the
nights when there has been nowhere for me to sleep but on the streets.

They say Marie Antoinette declared "Let them eat cake!" when she heard
of Louis's plan to starve Paris into submission. Hungry and desperate,
clamouring for the bread promised by their king, Parisians stormed the
Bastille on July 14, 1789.

Does it surprise you, Stevie, that what was promised by the highest
person in the land failed to reach the people on the ground?

Perhaps Marie's statement was simply the musings of an uneducated
woman. Perhaps she thought cake would take less flour. More likely she
knew the end was near and that she would pay for the most mindless and
insipid governance of her time. Best to keep that in mind, Stevie.

Public opinion is driven more by perception than fact. We love the
strength of the individual, the hero who pulls himself up by the bootstrap.

People living homeless don't get that whole bootstrap thing. We often
don't have shoes, so straps are a luxury we don't even think about.
Well, homeless I might be, but I'm a Canadian, too. Mr. Prime
Minister, you seem to have forgotten that.

It must be a wonderful life for the Canadians who actually live in a
democratic society. Complacent and calm amid their good fortune, they
settle in for a night of television with no awareness of the organized
and systemic violence being perpetuated against their fellow citizens
out here on the streets.

I'm sure the problems of Canada occupy you late into the night,
Stevie. I know how you feel -- I lie awake at night, too. How can I
not when I'm surrounded by men who think that if they offer me crack,
meth or whatever else they might have that I will then spend the night
sharing their urine-scented sheets? And if I'm hungry enough, who knows?

On the street, a person lives with a constant trepidation that
eventually becomes a certain recklessness. I mean, why not say "Yes"
to drugs? If you're hungry and have nothing left to lose and your
stomach hurts, why not? The bridge to nowhere is waiting anyway.

I never thought of myself as a homeless person until early one morning
when a perfectly pleasant-looking man passed me as I sat on the ground
by the downtown library. With no warning, he whipped his head around
and screamed at me:

"F---ing addict!"

I was perplexed and looked around for the needles I presumed he'd seen
around me. But then I realized what had happened. He'd seen the shadow
behind me, the shadow chasing me. I felt ashamed. That's the first
step to true homelessness -- shame.

Well, shame on you, too, Stevie. Unbelievably it's no longer hard to
become poor in one of the richest countries on Earth. It just takes a
couple of missed paycheques, an unkind bank, a government that hates
its own people.

How do I live on a disability pension of less than $900 a month?
You're the prime minister -- you tell me. Surely you know how much
rent costs, and transportation. Surely you know the price of fruit and
vegetables.

I must confess that in that last example, the prices escape me. Like
so many people in my situation, I went so many years without being
able to afford fruit and vegetables that I eventually lost my taste
for them.

Admit it, Stevie. Nine hundred bucks a month is way below the poverty
line, and you know it. A girl just can't get ahead unless she gives
some, it seems.

Bootstrap? How about a chokehold? I'm supposed to house, clothe and
feed myself on $900 a month, and do it all legally. Well, I can't. I'm
too tired, too hungry and too cold. You're obviously too high up, too
disrespectful and too small to understand.

It's the denial that kills us all eventually. We die spiritually or we
die from "respiratory failure." That one usually happens in the
winter. How can you live with that?

You are exercising a deliberate blindness. You're like the father who
sells his children into slavery. Scared, beaten by brutes, starved
into silence. Pimped out for a plate of food and a dry place to sleep.
It's a bitter legacy.

How is it that a person with enough savvy and smarts to become the
leader of our beautiful country deliberately set up an entire class of
people to be this poverty-stricken? We've not only lost our homes, but
our ability to buy life's most basic essentials.

History will judge you. Is this really what you want the world to
remember of you? Embrace this opportunity you fought so hard for. Embrace us.

Let's do lunch, Stevie. Forget the cake -- I just want the
bread.

And Stevie? That shadow, the one that's tracking me? Just remember,
it's coming for you, too.

Tyytler MacDonald lived homeless on Victoria's streets for several
months but at this moment has a roof over her head and a lot of
gratitude for good friends. 
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MAP posted-by: Jo-D