The Barriers of Having and Not-Having

I saw an old, haggard man the other day at the corner of 45th Street and 17th Avenue a few days ago, leaning on the street light. He stood alone, content to bask in the sun while students milled around him. Nobody paid attention to the old fart. His wry smiles and attempts to make conversation were never returned. A pack of girls crossed the street simply to avoid the bum--they didn't even break stride, the decision was tacit and automatic.

Our community here at the UW has a black sheep population: the homeless, non-academics, and who-the-fuck-are-you?'s. Students and faculty, and the neighborhood types associated with the school, established an invisible barrier. As you trace along 45th, the downtrodden pock University Way and 15th Avenue like free-range chickens. They seem to belong there. But to find a homeless man benignly standing on the corner of 17th seems odd. Likewise, if a pack of of homeless men and/or women were to wander onto Greek Row, kids would call UWPD and receive pats on the back for it. Somewhere between 15th Avenue and the UW campus is a line in the sand.

I don't mind the barrier, really. As a young, somewhat-morally-sound man I would argue that the rift between communities is bullshit. People are people, and spoiled 18-22 year olds can't lay claim to a barrier that doesn't exist. But there is another side, the dominant side, that believes the folks living the day-to-day grind should be kept away from campus. As bad as it sounds to express out loud, I am comfortable with the buffer. A student taking a nap on the lawn in the Quad is fine with me; and if there's a group of them hanging out together, that's just gravy. Picture that scene. Inviting, eh?

But now imagine those kids are 54 years old, long-haired and scraggy. The whole scene seems a little off, right? I would like to say that we keep the downtrodden at bay for our well-being, but that's a lame excuse. If anything the barrier is established for our piece of mind. We picture college as a utopia, a structure that shouldn't be muddied by the influence of bums. If prospective students saw three homeless guys reading the paper next to Drumheller Fountain or tossing a football in the median of Greek Row, I have no doubt they'd be turned off. The barrier is preserved (strengthened, even, with the surge of violent crime in the area) because the haves have the means to keep the have-nots censured. It's sad and surreal, but it is what it is. College life and vagabonds just don't mix.