Paul Kusuda’s column
Home sweet home — but not for everybody
Home sweet home — but not for everybody
By Paul H. Kusuda
For many, the American Dream is to “own our own home.” For too many, the dream is to have a place
to live, a place indoors where they are protected from the elements. Many millions in the world — men,
women and children — do not have anything we could even call shelter. Some are fortunate enough, or
can scrounge enough, to create some kind of space that will offer a bit of protection from the elements.
Others are not as fortunate.
In the United States, we have millions of homeless too – and this is the land of opportunity! In
Wisconsin, there are countless numbers of single persons and families without homes, whether rented or
owned. Included are many who are veterans, who served in the armed forces to assure continuation of
the American Way.
According to Porchlight, a Madison organization working to rectify this problem, “ … each year,
roughly 3,500 Madison residents experience homelessness. As the economic recession worsens and
large numbers of veterans return, homelessness is an increasing concern.” Homelessness, like
insufficient food to eat, is not just a worldwide problem affecting people most of us will never know. It’s a
problem all around us, in both urban and rural areas. For too many, the plight of hunger and
homelessness may be not more than a paycheck away. We can see results of diminished public
resources, but unfortunately, too many of us cannot truly feel the results of diminished personal resources
For many, the American Dream is to “own our own home.” For too many, the dream is to have a place
to live, a place indoors where they are protected from the elements. Many millions in the world — men,
women and children — do not have anything we could even call shelter. Some are fortunate enough, or
can scrounge enough, to create some kind of space that will offer a bit of protection from the elements.
Others are not as fortunate.
In the United States, we have millions of homeless too – and this is the land of opportunity! In
Wisconsin, there are countless numbers of single persons and families without homes, whether rented or
owned. Included are many who are veterans, who served in the armed forces to assure continuation of
the American Way.
According to Porchlight, a Madison organization working to rectify this problem, “ … each year,
roughly 3,500 Madison residents experience homelessness. As the economic recession worsens and
large numbers of veterans return, homelessness is an increasing concern.” Homelessness, like
insufficient food to eat, is not just a worldwide problem affecting people most of us will never know. It’s a
problem all around us, in both urban and rural areas. For too many, the plight of hunger and
homelessness may be not more than a paycheck away. We can see results of diminished public
resources, but unfortunately, too many of us cannot truly feel the results of diminished personal resources
unless it affects us personally.
Homelessness is harsh. Homelessness damages the very beings of those it strikes. How must parents feel when their family has no
home, no apartment in which to live, because personal funds are too low? How must children feel when they have no permanent place to
call home and must move from school to school or be bussed to school because their families have to move from place to place with no
permanent place to stay?
Historically in Western society, homelessness was dealt with publicly through the use of poor houses. Then, it was dealt with by
forcing families from one town to the next, foisting the problem to another area – “out of sight, out of mind.” Who really cared about those
who could not help themselves? In Wisconsin, and all over the United States, faith communities took up the challenge as public funds
were reduced and were insufficient to meet the needs of the homeless, the hungry, and those with many other needs.
Steve Schooler, executive director of Porchlight, makes presentations about some experiences many homeless persons have in the
Madison area. Many are men, both single and married (with their wife and children). Some have problems in addition to being homeless –
alcohol/drug or other addiction, mental illness, and emotional battles such as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (which more and more war
veterans face). He presents statistics that are as staggering as the case examples he has seen and describes.
Economic hardships contribute to and exacerbate homelessness. However, each person finding himself or herself in such terrible
circumstances must deal with them daily just to survive. We must do our utmost to help – the public at large should feel responsible to
help. Yet public funds are totally insufficient to meet needs. Churches, others in faith communities, and not-for-profit organizations are
doing much to be part of those doing their best to ameliorate physical and emotional hardships. Many obstacles face the homeless –
economic issues; less than adequate work skills; affordable housing availability; physical, mental, and emotional health care that
should be comprehensive and available to all; lack of respect and appreciation of others “who don’t seem to be like most of us,” etc.,
etc. etc.
Porchlight is conducting a capital campaign to deal with homelessness. Two times, I’ve heard Mr. Schooler speak about the issues
and current efforts being undertaken by Porchlight and other organizations, both religious and secular. At one such event, he gave me
Steve Lopez’s book “The Soloist.” It’s a book worth reading, and I recommend it highly. In it, Mr. Lopez, a columnist for the Los Angeles
Times, reveals his compassion for Nathaniel Ayers, a homeless single man in Los Angeles, actually downtown Skid Row, L.A.
Nathaniel was playing a two-stringed (the others broken and not replaced) battered violin at one of the two entrances to the Second
Street Tunnel when Mr. Lopez first encountered him. Nathaniel neither pandhandled nor paid much attention to him, being so rapt in the
music he played for anyone who listened. Those familiar with noisy automobile tunnels can appreciate how little one could hear from a
two-stringed violin and might wonder why anyone would choose to spend hour after hour extracting music from such an instrument. The
entrance to the tunnel was also where Nathaniel spent his nights. He was homeless, and all his possessions were carefully placed in a
grocery cart. He slept in the tunnel with two sticks handy to beat off rats that bothered him.
I imagine that huge cockroaches were also a pain. Mr. Lopez’s writing about Nathaniel meanderings around downtown L.A. brought
back memories of my early life in L.A. Until I was about seven years old, my parents owned and operated an upstairs hotel/rooming house
in the area of Nathaniel’s domain. We moved to the Westside and in the midst of the Great Depression had to move back to squalid
downtown L.A.
I got to know people who were actually one paycheck away from being homeless as well as a few who were homeless. We lived in
one hotel after another within a four-year period. My father had two jobs, my mother worked in a large-scale laundry, and my older brother
went to work in fruit-and-vegetable markets immediately following high school graduation. My younger sister, while a high school
sophomore, found herself a job as a “school girl” where, for working in a rich family’s home and doing some baby-sitting, she had a
place to stay, meals, and some spending money while attending classes in a local high school. Whenever she changed jobs, she also
had to change high school, depending on the school district in which the home was located. I worked about 20 hours a week beginning
as a high school junior and through two years of junior college.
So I know where Nathaniel’s “home” was – the Hill Street entrance to the Second Street Tunnel. Actually, the Third Street Tunnel was
not much different – noisy, full of fumes and dust, insects, and rodents. The plight of the homeless is much, much less than, desirable. Too
soon, hopelessness creeps in. Eventually, we saw the effects of FDR’s PWA, WPA, CCC, NYA, etc. Economic conditions didn’t turn
around quickly, but things became better, and life became more worthwhile for many families. For Nathaniel, things got better, but he’ll not
be living a “normal” life because he’s unfortunately handicapped with a mental illness that he’ll never shake off.
For readers of this column who can afford to contribute a little (or a lot) toward dealing with homelessness, please send a check to
Porchlight, Inc., 306 N. Brooks St., Madison, WI 53715. Running a capital campaign these days is tough because potential contributors
have their own financial needs to worry about; however, I make this request anyway. Incidentally, I was once told that my middle initial of
H. must stand for “Haji nashi,” Japanese for “having no shame” for occasionally making outlandish requests.
Homelessness is harsh. Homelessness damages the very beings of those it strikes. How must parents feel when their family has no
home, no apartment in which to live, because personal funds are too low? How must children feel when they have no permanent place to
call home and must move from school to school or be bussed to school because their families have to move from place to place with no
permanent place to stay?
Historically in Western society, homelessness was dealt with publicly through the use of poor houses. Then, it was dealt with by
forcing families from one town to the next, foisting the problem to another area – “out of sight, out of mind.” Who really cared about those
who could not help themselves? In Wisconsin, and all over the United States, faith communities took up the challenge as public funds
were reduced and were insufficient to meet the needs of the homeless, the hungry, and those with many other needs.
Steve Schooler, executive director of Porchlight, makes presentations about some experiences many homeless persons have in the
Madison area. Many are men, both single and married (with their wife and children). Some have problems in addition to being homeless –
alcohol/drug or other addiction, mental illness, and emotional battles such as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (which more and more war
veterans face). He presents statistics that are as staggering as the case examples he has seen and describes.
Economic hardships contribute to and exacerbate homelessness. However, each person finding himself or herself in such terrible
circumstances must deal with them daily just to survive. We must do our utmost to help – the public at large should feel responsible to
help. Yet public funds are totally insufficient to meet needs. Churches, others in faith communities, and not-for-profit organizations are
doing much to be part of those doing their best to ameliorate physical and emotional hardships. Many obstacles face the homeless –
economic issues; less than adequate work skills; affordable housing availability; physical, mental, and emotional health care that
should be comprehensive and available to all; lack of respect and appreciation of others “who don’t seem to be like most of us,” etc.,
etc. etc.
Porchlight is conducting a capital campaign to deal with homelessness. Two times, I’ve heard Mr. Schooler speak about the issues
and current efforts being undertaken by Porchlight and other organizations, both religious and secular. At one such event, he gave me
Steve Lopez’s book “The Soloist.” It’s a book worth reading, and I recommend it highly. In it, Mr. Lopez, a columnist for the Los Angeles
Times, reveals his compassion for Nathaniel Ayers, a homeless single man in Los Angeles, actually downtown Skid Row, L.A.
Nathaniel was playing a two-stringed (the others broken and not replaced) battered violin at one of the two entrances to the Second
Street Tunnel when Mr. Lopez first encountered him. Nathaniel neither pandhandled nor paid much attention to him, being so rapt in the
music he played for anyone who listened. Those familiar with noisy automobile tunnels can appreciate how little one could hear from a
two-stringed violin and might wonder why anyone would choose to spend hour after hour extracting music from such an instrument. The
entrance to the tunnel was also where Nathaniel spent his nights. He was homeless, and all his possessions were carefully placed in a
grocery cart. He slept in the tunnel with two sticks handy to beat off rats that bothered him.
I imagine that huge cockroaches were also a pain. Mr. Lopez’s writing about Nathaniel meanderings around downtown L.A. brought
back memories of my early life in L.A. Until I was about seven years old, my parents owned and operated an upstairs hotel/rooming house
in the area of Nathaniel’s domain. We moved to the Westside and in the midst of the Great Depression had to move back to squalid
downtown L.A.
I got to know people who were actually one paycheck away from being homeless as well as a few who were homeless. We lived in
one hotel after another within a four-year period. My father had two jobs, my mother worked in a large-scale laundry, and my older brother
went to work in fruit-and-vegetable markets immediately following high school graduation. My younger sister, while a high school
sophomore, found herself a job as a “school girl” where, for working in a rich family’s home and doing some baby-sitting, she had a
place to stay, meals, and some spending money while attending classes in a local high school. Whenever she changed jobs, she also
had to change high school, depending on the school district in which the home was located. I worked about 20 hours a week beginning
as a high school junior and through two years of junior college.
So I know where Nathaniel’s “home” was – the Hill Street entrance to the Second Street Tunnel. Actually, the Third Street Tunnel was
not much different – noisy, full of fumes and dust, insects, and rodents. The plight of the homeless is much, much less than, desirable. Too
soon, hopelessness creeps in. Eventually, we saw the effects of FDR’s PWA, WPA, CCC, NYA, etc. Economic conditions didn’t turn
around quickly, but things became better, and life became more worthwhile for many families. For Nathaniel, things got better, but he’ll not
be living a “normal” life because he’s unfortunately handicapped with a mental illness that he’ll never shake off.
For readers of this column who can afford to contribute a little (or a lot) toward dealing with homelessness, please send a check to
Porchlight, Inc., 306 N. Brooks St., Madison, WI 53715. Running a capital campaign these days is tough because potential contributors
have their own financial needs to worry about; however, I make this request anyway. Incidentally, I was once told that my middle initial of
H. must stand for “Haji nashi,” Japanese for “having no shame” for occasionally making outlandish requests.