Sometimes when I talk to homeless people in the Bay Area, I ask them how they became homeless.
Sometimes, they say that they lost their homes in a wildfire.
More painful than seeing people lose their homes in a forest fire, is watching them lose their humanity, as our empathy for them evaporates.
In the immediate days after someone loses their home in a wildfire, our talk is full of empathy.
But as days turn to weeks and months, we stop caring *why* someone doesn't have a home, and only care *that* they don't have a home.
We start planning to throw away their remaining possessions.
Homeless people aren't different people than us. They are us.
Many homeless people just experienced a sequence of unfortunate events that led them to this place.
"No! They're drug addicts! They did this to themselves!"🤡
Again, ask people with addiction how they became addicted.
They'll tell you
There's a pervasive myth that people still believe about California homeless: that homeless people "come to California for the weather."
That's a lie that fortunate people 🙋🏿♂️ tell ourselves.
California homeless are almost all California residents (90%) who just had a bunch of bad luck in a row.
Anyway, I skipped the "burrito taxi" discourse, AKA the meal delivery discourse.
Because if tomorrow you lost your home and your job to wildfire, and only had your car and a few hastily gathered possessions, and you needed to earn some money?
Your car would become a burrito taxi too.
I don't care if you know how to cook food for yourself for cheap, or if you treat yourself by having burritos delivered to your house.
I care that we live in a country so cruel, that some people deliver food in the cars that they live in, while those receiving the food don't even know or care.