The stories you don’t want to write. Because you’d rather write about the drive to a friend’s house, way out in the country, past fields and fields of clover and Queen Anne’s lace, with the windows down, and wind in your hair, and the smell of clover making you almost dizzily intoxicated.

And you’d even rather clean toilets or do almost anything else, than write about downtown poop and other livability/lack of livability issues. Yet stories keep unfolding all around you, and some stories won’t let you sleep until you let them write themselves.

In Salem (and beyond), conversations often focus on livability, safety, and the complexity of how cities might deal with ripples of homelessness. Those things matter – to businesses, their customers, people who experience homelessness, and to anyone who lives, works, plays, or visits in Salem.

Salem has conducted an annual belonging survey to identify whether Salem residents experience inclusion, belonging, community-ness, discrimination, exclusion, or any combination. Every year, survey results reflect that almost every person surveyed who experiences homelessness also experiences significant discrimination – often daily. 

What enables livability and what enables dignity and inclusion of people experiencing homelessness? What does balance look like? What is enforceable in ways that won’t do more harm than good? And WHY would anyone poop in a doorway? People share slivers of their stories.

One man shares about the first time he slept on the sidewalk. How ashamed he felt. How he waited till the city was dark and asleep before he unfolded a blanket and folded himself up into it. And how he woke up early, to leave no trace, and so no one would know that he had slept on the sidewalk.

Because he never expected to be someone who would end up with no place to live, and he didn’t want people to think of him as one of “those” people.

One woman shared that she’s tried many medications for her mental illness. Yet the only medication that silences the voices in her head gives her extreme diarrhea. How do you deal with THAT, as a homeless woman, where restrooms are scarce, far away, and usually closed at night?

She shared that the shame and stigma of soiling her clothing is bigger than the shame and stigma of yelling at people the rest of us can’t see. What would you do if those were your two choices? 

She is choosing not to take those meds until she has a place to live with a bathroom she can use at any time. If I was in her shoes, I would do the same. 

As we talk about problems downtown, one girl is brushing her long lovely hair. And she tells you that she was taught that you brush hair and clip toenails in private. Yet when her toenails were pushing against the inside of her shoes, and she finally found a nail clipper but had nowhere to go for privacy, she clipped her toenails in a park. Feeling shame for doing personal hygiene in a public park with people all around.

She tells you that every day, a little bit of dignity slips away, as you make do, as you do what is needed wherever you can, because options are often a luxury that doesn’t exist for them.

Some business owners shared that they (understandably!) don’t appreciate the ripples of homelessness. And yet some shared that they befriended people who live outside their store. And by building a relationship, different ripples happened – some shared that the homeless individuals became extra eyes and ears on their business – free extra security. Some shared that connections changed their own perception and that in itself changed the dynamics to be positive.

Some business owners shared about the challenge and biohazard of having poop in their doorway. I had assumed that doorway poops reflect situations of people who experienced health issues, or cases of disrespectful people who were leaving a purposeful, metaphorical “F” you.

Yet a woman shared about the lack of bathrooms in general, and especially at night. And a man shared that he’ll go to the alleys, behind dumpsters, to have a sliver of privacy as he relieves himself. And some women shared that the alleys are not safe for them. So they might go on the sidewalks or doorways.

None of them never expected to be in this position, yet what do you do when you find yourself in this place, with no options for meeting such a basic human need? And what do you do when you have no plastic bags, no toilet paper, nothing to pick it up with, and no trash cans nearby to put it, even if you had toilet paper to carry it elsewhere? And with each person sharing, their words and the tears in their voices convey their deep shame.

One man shared that he tries to eat in ways and times that he won’t need to relieve himself until places are open for him to use a bathroom. Yet sometimes health issues result in runny and unpredictable poop, or drugs (prescription or not) are laxatives, or nature has no heed for the bathroom scheduling you aim for. So he’ll use alleys and behind-dumpsters as needed.

Yet when there’s no warning or lead time, and when relieving yourself in public is already undignified and shame-filled, a doorway offers a shred more privacy than the sidewalk itself. And a doorway means you’re less likely to attract attention or be cited for indecent exposure for doing a basic human function that every human being does.

And he’s embarrassed to admit that he’s used doorways on rare occasions. And the shame in his voice is thick. Public disapproval only adds to the shame that he already feels at a deep core level that eats him up a tiny bit each day.

Another man shared that he also trained his body to only need to go to the bathroom once restrooms are available. And he feels so much shame about using alleys or doorways or sidewalks that on the rare times that he couldn’t make it to a restroom, he soiled his pants rather than using an alley.

Now I see that those situations are rarely, if ever, the “F” you I imagined them to be. Now I see those times as a reflection of a shared human need not just to relieve ourselves, but also to have a shred of privacy, dignity, and safety when we do so. And I’m embarrassed that as a community we haven’t done better yet.

And I am reminded once again of the things that seem so obvious to me only after someone shares slivers of their stories. And I am grateful for their trust and candor, and so sad to see our lack in enabling ways for fellow human beings to meet basic human needs with some safety and dignity.

In a city rich with beauty, and in a city aiming for inclusion, belonging, and dignity for all, my heart breaks for the shame they feel and conveyed to me. And I’m in sad awe of the lengths some individuals go, to avoid using public space as a restroom.

And there have been times in my own home or travels where due to illness, lack of bathrooms, or other issues, I barely made it to the bathroom in time. Haven’t we all been there now and then? 

And I passed by a field of colorful flowers today, smiling open to the sun in vivid jewel colors. And I wish everyone the luxury of moments to drown in the beauty and simplicity of flowers smiling open in the sunshine. Yet living in survival mode rarely enables that simple luxury.

I wish everyone health, dignity, safety, shelter, the ability to have basic human needs met, and the luxury of having moments to revel in the beauty that exists amid the chaos of life.

And I know there are problems and messes to clean up when we have bathrooms. Yet we have problems and messes to clean up when we don’t have bathrooms. 

If we’re investing our collective time and money on cleanup anyway, what if we chose the path that enables dignity and more safety for ALL?

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