And so it begins...

Over spring break this past March, I went on an Alternative Spring Break trip to Washington, D.C. to learn more about homelessness. Eleven other students and I participated in the Homeless Challenge (Urban Plunge) through the National Coalition for the Homeless in order to experience homelessness first hand. This is my story.


6:29 a.m........6:30 a.m. The instant my phone alarm began to blare its tinny tune, I was already up and out of my sleeping bag, excited to begin this new adventure of life on the other side. I'm not even sure if I had actually fallen asleep the night before―it was the whole “kid-on-Christmas-Eve” syndrome. Except this Christmas was more 'trash bag' than 'toy bag.'

That morning marked a full week since my last shower. A thick layer of invisible grime had settled into my skin, making even the cleanest of clothes feel sullied. The grease on my scalp plastered my hair to the crown of my head...I looked like a 12 year old boy who had overdosed on L.A. Looks hair gel. But I was not complaining one bit; I wanted to embrace this opportunity to the fullest, to do my best to experience the many discomforts the homeless deal with every single day. In an effort to really go for the gold, I may or may not have actually borrowed a can of Crisco from the kitchen and sprayed it liberally throughout my mane. Let's just say that it was an unexpected bonus that the Crisco smelled like week-old compost.

Changing into my trusty pair of old black sweatpants, a 10-year-old worn and stained T-shirt, and a faded, neon Windy City Balloon Port sweatshirt circa 1986, it was as if I had just stepped off a runway in Milan..... though perhaps not. I stocked my backpack with a half roll of toilet paper (you never know), a pair of dirty mittens, a warm scarf, and an old, label-less water bottle. Then I wrapped my sleeping bag up in a garbage bag and tied it to my backpack with a piece of string. The final touch to my new homeless get-up was a good old Hefty bag to carry all of the treasures I would surely find on the street.


After downing a small breakfast of a Dixie cup full of cheerios, our brave group of 12 set out to the National Coalition for the Homeless headquarters to divide into pairs and meet up with our guides. During the Homeless Challenge, participants typically meet up with a guide at night to ensure their safety, and the guide is someone who is or has been homeless in Washington, D.C. My partner Adam and I, and another pair, Luna and Kaitlin, were assigned to Steve's group. Our guide Steve was 6'3” and 300 pounds―I couldn't be happier that he would be our protector that night. Because, seriously, who in their right mind would mess with that?

After brief introductions, Steve dove right in and inquired about our “homeless stories.” Part of the program involved coming up with a believable backstory of how we became homeless. Following Steve's advice, Adam and I were now teenagers who had came to D.C. a few days ago for the rally, but now were stranded. Apparently, we were not yet smelly enough to pretend that we had been in the area longer than a few days. Steve then told us to meet him out front of the ESPN Zone at E and 11th at 9 o' clock that night. And with that, we were off!