Resilience, perseverance, and personal growth -- not your normal lens

Untapped Talents Made Me Broke, Not Broken

By Kim “Supermutt” Goodman? - a regular author in cleveland street chronicle, Northeast Ohio’s Street Newspaper (authored, distributed and promoted by members of the homeless community) --Taken directly from issue 29.1

???When I was in kindergarten, my teacher said I was creative, but at home I was often lashed out at for creating art. When I did origami, I was lashed out at for using too much paper. When I drew pictures, I was lashed out at for leaving crayon shavings around or leaving marker or colored pencil marks on the cheap shite tablecloth.

???In school, I received awards for my art, but to me it was no big deal. What I saw through my young eyes were my classmates who were doing great things, not me. I watched as my classmates’ parents and family showed excitement as they received their recognition. I heard the cheering and the kind words. I saw the cameras flashing and proud looks on their family’s faces.

???When I received recognition, there were no proud looks, no special cheering, no kind works, no cameras flashing, no nothing. Not seeing a special reaction made me believe the things I did were not as great as my peers. I was later told by the woman who gave birth to me that I was never going to amount to nothing, and my artwork would never get me anywhere if I was too stupid to pass my academic work.

???I spent my childhood dealing with anxiety from the abuse and neglect I was experiencing at home. As a teenager, I dealt with depression, because I didn’t feel smart and I was not like everyone else. During my teenage years, I lost my grandmother who was the breadwinner of the household. When she died, so did our food supply. Then the utilities got shut off. At the time in my life when I should have been focusing on building my future, I was busy surviving life instead of living it.

???I was being lashed out at for not having a job to take care of home. The woman who gave birth to me, told me I was not some little child she had to take care of, I was old enough to fend for myself. She wanted me to take care of her and compensate her, because she claimed I screwed up her life. She told me her life would have been better if she had never had “a thing” like me for a child. I tried to go out and get a job, but at the time I was not employable. When I was 16, I functioned mentally and emotionally like a five-year old. I had no idea I was living with an undiagnosed developmental disability.

???When I became an adult, I believed my life would magically change, but it didn’t. Even though I was a legal adult who had graduated from high school, I felt like a scared, confused little kid. I was depressed, had anxiety and was stressed out. I still didn’t fit in. I felt inferior and unlovable. The only thing that changed was society’s expectations for me. I was expected to fully think and function like an adult and as if my developmental disability, anxiety, and depression didn’t exist. I was expected to thrive as if my childhood abuse and neglect never happened.

???I failed to live up to society’s expectations. I couldn’t seem to get and keep a job. I was not unemployed because I didn’t want to work. I was unemployed because I was different. Many people didn’t want to work alongside me, because I took them out of their comfort zone. Other people didn’t want to train me or explain things to me in a way I could understand. In a lot of people’s minds, if I couldn’t learn or comprehend the “normal” way, then I didn’t need that job.

???I ended up homeless for several years. People often said I was homeless because I wanted to be, and all I had to do was get a job and hold on to it. Some people said I was never going to be productive. Many people said I wasted my talents, because I had the potential to be great. Others said I would struggle through life, because the woman who gave birth to me screwed me up. It was easy for people to sit back and criticize my homelessness or judge me for being homeless, without seeing through my eyes. Most people see the world based on their life, their knowledge, and their upbringing.

???The real reason I was homeless: I was dealing with issues and lacked the resources and support I needed. I was born with an autism spectrum disorder (ASD) and placed into the arms of an abuser. I have limitations and shortcomings due to autism. I did not understand my state of being before being diagnosed. Abuse and neglect caused me to have self-esteem issues. It robbed me of my dignity and it distorted my sense of self.

???These issues affected my ability to live and caused unnecessary stress. In childhood, I lost my sense of self. In my teenage years, I lost my grandmother and the household utilities and faced food insecurities. Just when I thought I had nothing else to lose, I lost my residence, all my favorite childhood toys, comic books, and sports cards, and some friends. At that point in my life I had nothing. I lost everything I had. I was broke, financially, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I couldn’t go no further; I had reached rock bottom. I felt I deserved that life. I believed that being homeless was my punishment for being different and for failing.

???There I was, homeless. I had nowhere to go but up. Even though I craved the love, support, and closeness of parents and family, homelessness was the best thing that ever happened to me. When I entered the world of homelessness, I felt a sense of belonging. In the street, I no longer felt alone, isolated, and inferior.

???Many people on the street were a lot like me. We were different from the majority and didn’t quite fit in.We were all broken in some way and trying to heal. There was a different level of companionship on the street. There was less criticism and judgment; fewer harsh words. Homeless and formerly homeless people had a lot of compassion empathy for one another. If a person didn’t act their age, on the street they were just human and not someone who was “slow.” If a person had schizophrenia, they were just a person who was schizophrenic. I needed that caring and supportive environment, free from judgment, criticism, and rejection.

???Homelessness led me to healing and Spirituality. Living on the street helped me to heal, learn, grow, and thrive. On the street, I was seen as a human being worthy of respect. In the housed world, people called me crazy, weird, strange, and slow; people who viewed me as the person I could have been instead of seeing me as the person I was, someone who was damaged but could be healed.

???If I had been placed into the arms of a caring mother, things would have been different. I would have received my ASD diagnosis in childhood and received the therapies, training, and support to help me live a more productive life. If I had that caring mother or parental figure back when my Kindergarten teacher said I was creative, they would have nurtured that compliment.

???What I needed to thrive in childhood was love, support and acceptance. I needed the opportunity to be messy and experiment. When I received awards and ribbons in school, I needed to see a proud look and a camera flashing. I needed to hear cheering and kind words. Then I could have seen that I had a talent that was great. I needed to be told it was okay to be unique and stand out. My mind would have been free to live, dream, and plan. I probably would have used my creativity to build a business. I would probably be a millionaire by now because I would have had help. However, this was not the life I was given.

???The first two decades of my life were traumatic. But the streets raised me. When I was in my 20s, I was busy trying to fix the damage done to me in childhood. I had to learn that I had a good side, so that I could be comfortable in my own skin, because I was taught to hate myself for being different. In my 30s, I had to discover my talents, gifts, and skills and improve them, so I could be productive. Now that I’m in my 40s, I am trying to build a life for myself. Now, I know that I am a unique person who is really great. I know that my talent is creativity. I know that I am a great artist, writer, and creator, and I use these things as best as I can. I have written and self-published many books. I’ve done podcasts and blogs. I know if I had a support system in my life, I would be more successful with these things. One person can only do so much.

???My two biggest successes in life are selling Cleveland sports-themed jewelry and writing for this paper. The positive feedback I get from my customers is what keeps me motivated. I may not have the opportunity to follow my dreams to their full potential, but I never let that stop me from helping and encouraging others to follow theirs. I do it, because I know how it feels to not have a support system.