Concrete Pillows
In New York City
by Herb Bardavid
This is Steven
I first noticed Steven sitting on a ledge in front of the Pot Belly restaurant, right across from Broadway, between Reade Street and Church Street, near New York City's City Hall. On this scorching 90-degree day in New York City, he had removed his shirt to cope with the heat. There was no sign asking for money or help. No cart or box filled with his possessions. Nothing to indicate that he was homeless. However, after spending a decade interviewing the homeless men and women in New York City, I've learned to recognize the subtle signs-the posture, the expression-that convey deep loneliness.
I crossed Broadway and approached Steven. I asked if he was homeless; he looked at me with a mistrustful expression and said to me, "You could say that."
I quickly responded by asking him if he was hungry. That broke the tension between the two of us. I asked when he last ate. He said he couldn't remember. He was hungry.
I said I would be happy to get him a sandwich from the Pot Belly restaurant. I asked him what he would like. He pointed to the sign in front of the restaurant that advertised a sandwich called The Friery Island. I also asked what he would like to drink to show consideration and respect. He smiled and asked for a Coke.
When I returned, I explained that I had an agenda behind all my kindness. He agreed to be interviewed and photographed.
Steven is a well-spoken man, 42 years old. He was born in Kingston, Jamaica. He had a happy childhood, although he does remember that there wasn't always enough to eat for his parents, his brother, his sister, and himself.
At the age of 13, his parents moved the family to Brooklyn, New York, in search of a better life. His father worked in construction, and his mother cleaned offices in Lower Manhattan at night. He attended high school in Brooklyn until he dropped out at 16 and began working odd jobs.
He was able to afford a studio apartment in Brooklyn on his income. But after being late or absent too many times, he lost his job. At the time he became homeless, he has been homeless for the past five years. His brother and sister live with his parents in Brooklyn. I asked why he doesn't do the same thing. He said his independence is very important to him and that he refuses to become a financial burden to his parents. He said he doesn't mind living on the streets and has not been harassed by the public or the police. He has made friends with other homeless men. He would like to work again, but he has lost his papers over the years and cannot apply for a job without papers.
Steven does not see any change in his future. His plan is to continue sleeping on the concrete sidewalks of New York City.