First Encounter of the Motherly Kind

In 1989, I was invited to give a presentation to Immaculate Conception Church in Elmhurst on the subject of poverty and homelessness to teenagers. Wanting not to bore them, I thought about bringing an actual homeless person from a PADS (Public Action to Deliver Shelter) in order to make a lasting impression. But, I couldn't quite figure out how to do it in a way that would hold up the homeless person's dignity. Then I thought to myself, I will become the homeless person. Today, I wear very little to distinguish myself as a person of poverty. But, twenty years ago, my outfit was quite extensive. I wore a out-of-date sport coat, dirty jeans, old tennis shoes, a newsboy cap and glasses. I put make-up on my face to appear older and a little dirty. It was a terrible stereotype. As many people know, who volunteer at shelters, many homeless people are clean and many are dressed fine. But, many of the students knew me so that I was not only trying to create the appearance of someone down and out but disguise myself as well.

With that in mind, I knew I needed to test my disguise and so I went to see the one person who would be most qualified to recognize me -my mother. I grew up in Addison, Illinois but by this time, my parents had moved to Bloomingdale, Illinois. It was, and still is today, a very fine home in the western suburbs. I went to the front door and rang the bell holding a grocery bag in one arm and a cigarette in the other. My mother came to the door and asked me what I wanted. I said, "A can of food please." Of course, I also had to disguise my voice. For the first time, I tried out my new voice. Ray speaks with a scratchy hoarse tone. Mom said, "no". She then closed the door before I could say anything else. The thing of it is, my mother is a wonderful human being and did just what her son would want her to do. She protected herself from a stranger she didn't know at her door. The only purpose I had in going to see her was to test my disguise. But, I ended up having my first "Ray" lesson. You see, years ago, my mother worked at a food pantry at the Addison Village. She had handed out food to the poor many times before. My mother is a humanitarian. This was a perfectly appropriate response for my mother that night at her doorstep. But, are there times when fear gets in the way of compassion and instead brings about unwarranted judgment? I was now prepared to bring Ray to Elmhurst. Little did I know that this was the first of hundreds and hundreds of presentations as a homeless man.