Why I Invest in the Homeless and the Poor
By: Diane Austin
Many people do not know me very well, and as a result, they might not fully understand what drives me. It is possible that some individuals are simply uninterested in learning more about my motivations, or perhaps they are comfortable with their current perspectives and prefer not to seek a deeper understanding. This situation often leaves my intentions and reasons for my actions unclear to those around me.
I recognize that, at times, my anger and frustration have overshadowed my ability to clearly communicate my motives. These emotions can sometimes make it difficult for me to present myself in a way that accurately reflects my intentions. I sincerely apologize for those moments when my feelings have gotten in the way of clarity.
However, I believe that those who have known me for years should be able to see beyond these occasional lapses. Their familiarity with my character and history ought to provide them with enough insight to understand my motivations, regardless of how my emotions might occasionally affect my presentation.
Over the past 18 months, I have dedicated a significant portion of my time and energy to working directly with the homeless population. Two days each week, I volunteer as a peer counselor at Greenhouse Ministries, a local non-profit organization that serves homeless and low-income Americans, as well as immigrants from various countries. In this role, I have witnessed firsthand the deep sense of anxiety and distress that many individuals experience. I have tried to provide resources and support, even as crucial services have been drastically reduced due to cuts from the current administration.
Through this work, I have encountered hunger, mental illness, and the heartbreaking reality of young people in the LGBTQ community being rejected and displaced by their families. These difficult experiences are a primary source of my frustration, as I see the immense challenges faced by those I am trying to help.
On the other days of the week—except for Monday and Friday, which I reserve for my own mental health—I am actively involved with two other inclusive non-profit organizations. One is The Yard at Stones River Church, and the other is The Hope Exchange, a program I recently launched. The Hope Exchange is dedicated to providing hope, guidance, resources, and additional support for those experiencing homelessness in the Murfreesboro, TN area.
Throughout my time working with the homeless community, I have sat with women who are unable to provide basic necessities—such as clothing and food—for their children. I have spoken with single fathers who are deeply distressed by their inability to offer their children the stability and resources they know their families deserve. I have also encountered families living in fear, hesitant to disclose their circumstances because they worry that seeking help might bring the involvement of immigration authorities.
After more than a year of witnessing these struggles, I carry a full heart and a mind weighed down by concern. The emotional toll is significant, as I grapple with disappointment in how, despite our nation’s strength, unhealthy attachments to capitalism and Christian Nationalism continue to perpetuate hardship and hinder meaningful support for those in need.
Many people are quick to make assumptions about the motives and circumstances of those experiencing homelessness. However, unless someone has spent considerable time engaging in meaningful conversations with individuals in the homeless community, it is not possible to fully understand the complexities that shape their lives. The reasons behind homelessness are always far more complicated than the stereotypes and generalizations people often make. Statements like "they should just pull themselves up by their bootstraps" reveal a simplistic and unproductive way of thinking. Such remarks fail to recognize the nuanced challenges, barriers, and hardships that individuals experiencing homelessness face on a daily basis. It is important to move beyond surface-level judgments and approach these issues with empathy, openness, and a willingness to listen.
Every day, I spend at least an hour reflecting on the wealth that surrounds me. Even though there are far more people struggling than those who are affluent, many individuals facing hardship have internalized the myth of capitalism—a myth that should be clear to anyone striving to carve out a life in this country. In my hometown, enormous buildings have stood vacant since COVID. State Farm and the old YMCA are just two examples; either of these spaces could nearly eliminate homelessness in Murfreesboro if community members and businesses were willing to share resources and collaborate. By pooling their ideas and financial support, they could create a system that provides everything needed to help people secure employment, gain new knowledge and skills, and find a safe place to live—all under one roof, preventing anyone from falling through the cracks.
There are churches on nearly every corner, including several mega churches. While each probably operates its own small program, I often wonder what could be accomplished if all these resources were combined. The possibilities for a comprehensive, unified effort to address homelessness are immense.
Over time, I have had to learn some hard lessons regarding boundaries when helping others. My experiences have taught me that it is important to remain committed even when faced with challenging situations—such as being lied to, manipulated, or confronted with what seems like ingratitude. I do not give up at the first sign of difficulty. Instead, I approach each situation individually, avoiding a one-size-fits-all method in my support. Yes, there are times when one must become aware that there is not growth being made, at which point it is easy to move into enabling. It is generally not in the first few months of interaction.
I give both my money and my time generously. Much of my time is spent talking to those who often feel invisible in a world that moves too quickly to notice them. The second, third, and fourth chances I offer are not a reflection of my need for validation, nor are they given out of naivety. Rather, they stem from my dedication to understanding the homeless community—I have read, researched, learned, and engaged in conversations with those experiencing homelessness so that I can better comprehend their realities and their reasoning.
Through these efforts, I have found that many behaviors exhibited by people in survival mode are learned over years of hardship. For many, lying or manipulating feels necessary for survival, especially when the world around them is largely unresponsive. The situation is complex, and meaningful change cannot be achieved by simply handing out a sack lunch, a bottle of water, or some money.
When Americans hear a homeless person say they are content living on the streets, it is important to look beyond the surface of that statement. While the individual may genuinely feel that way in the moment, it is naive to overlook the pain, hurt, and rejection that brought them to such a place. If we fail to see these deeper issues, our thinking remains shallow. I apologize for being so direct, but these circumstances demand an awakening—a call to greater understanding and empathy.
Helping those less fortunate is ultimately a personal decision—individuals must choose whether or not to extend a hand to those in need. I often find it difficult not to be critical of people who refuse to acknowledge the broader context and underlying causes of these issues. My frustrations have been particularly directed toward the evangelical church and the current Republican Party. These groups often engage deeply in identity politics that, in my view, stand in direct opposition to the words and actions of Jesus. Through my experiences, I have quickly realized that some individuals simply are not open to, nor interested in, my perspective. Accepting this reality is something I must come to terms with, but it is also a reckoning they will eventually face.
As I bring these thoughts together, I am motivated by two primary reasons. First, I wish to leave my grandchildren with a clear understanding of how deeply their grandmother loved others. Second, I hope to help others recognize the profound complexity surrounding the issues of homelessness, immigration, and mental illness. It is my hope that many will step up to understanding and relating to an entire community right under their noses.
