A thought, a ramble.

The first time I went to Harlow in Portland, a friend pointed out to me that she witnessed an employee offering a free meal to a less-than-fortunate individual hanging out on the corner, "there is no reason to go through your day hungry" was the reasoning. With that my respect for this establishment was solidified in gold. Subsequently, my friend and I dove into a conversation about the politics underlying the homeless population in Portland, and how our society as a whole tries to dehumanize them, and succeeds, quite easily. A few days later, I had an encounter in the parking garage of Whole Foods downtown. I was walking out towards my car, as I approached the very wide --easily accommodating two to three people-- door, a homeless man was doing the same. We both approached the door at an even pace and once he noticed me --a clean, well-dressed individual-- he stopped, looked down, and said he was sorry thus encouraged me to walk through by myself ahead of him. I was struck with intense sadness. His actions screamed abuse from everyone he has met. And I saw him as a person when the world had obviously stripped that away from him, or he himself had forgotten his own humanity. I paused alongside him and motioned for him to proceed, saying, "no, please, you're fine." And we both walked through the door.

This, for me, is in no way a revelation. But it serves as a wake-up call because I have become desensitized to the homeless in Portland. They are constantly categorized and logged away as lazy, disgusting, petty addicts, and annoying with their unyielding panhandling. In no way have they evoked pity in me, but, from this week, I have felt pity for myself because of my thoughts and actions towards other people. I can no longer look at an individual as a lesser being than I based on their circumstances. Who am I to judge what one does with their life when they grow up in the absence of knowledge that they have a life to live?

This started out as an essay about Harlow and how much I've grown to love it there. You're probably wondering how a tangent like this could be formed from writing a restaurant review. I wonder that, as well, but my wonderment is quickly eased by the fact that walking through the doors of Harlow is like walking into the arms of an old, family loved one. The staff addresses you as 'love' and proceeds to talk to you as an individual by throwing out The Standard Interaction Between Two Strangers script. You know, the book that governs and dictates that we never allow ourselves to open up to complete strangers? Yeah, that nasty textbook. At Harlow, you matter, I matter, she matters, he matters, they matter as a human being that is alive and well and sharing a space with other human beings that are alive and well. And that is key, sharing, which encourages an equality among peoples. I am honored to know you.