I was asked, “Why is it so important to have a creative writing class at Street Roots?”
Where do I begin? Many thoughts come to mind. It’s called creativity. It’s called therapy. It’s getting stuff out of my head. It’s getting to know the other vendors and writers. It’s sharing. It’s caring. It’s family. It’s a place to gather. To dry out. To rest. If Street Roots didn’t have a writing class, it would be devastating. Where would we do our creativity? On buildings? That’s called graffiti.
Eileen Vizenor is a Street Roots vendor.Photo by Robin Havenick
I have been involved with the creative writing class since 2013, where I have been able to express myself, to write about the roadblocks that houseless people face. It’s a platform for me to vent. I would be devastated if I didn’t have this outlet, for I would not have grown as much as I have over these past years of being off-and-on homeless. In the words of Toni Morrison, “How bleak, unlivable, insufferable existence becomes when we are deprived of artwork.”
Another bonus is being published. Writers get 10 free papers for published work. To see my work in print is an incredible feeling. Warms the cockles of my heart. To have customers compliment my work is wonderful. To see others’ published work also warms me. We compliment each other. To see the talent we vendors have, whether it is writing or artwork, is fabulous, inspiring. We keep each other going, encouraging one another. Appreciating each other’s talents.
To attend the poetry readings is an honor. Although I have a tendency to get a little emotional, always writing from my homeless experiences and from my heart, I still enjoy reading to the attendees. To look up and see their smiling faces and hear their applause is priceless. It’s feeling part of something – a community. Appreciative of the time they give us through buying our papers and reading our creative writings and attending our readings. The support is heartfelt.
So you see, having a writing class at Street Roots is of vital importance to the success of vendors, and of this great paper. Here’s hoping Street Roots never stops the creative writing class. It would break a lot of hearts, both vendors and readers.
I’m going to talk for all of the Street Roots creative writers when I say, “Read me, please.”
Eileen Vizenor is a Street Roots vendor. Read more about Eileen in her vendor profile.
Family
by Eileen Vizenor
Two decades of Street Roots, Congrats! For seven years they have been my family. A scared, confused little girl was I when I walked into their office. Greeted by smiling faces, I felt at home immediately. For the first time I had hope, which a person needs in order to survive houselessness.
Connecting me to resources to maintain self-care, seeking refuge. The friendships that I have made are priceless, from staff, volunteers and vendors to customers. Today I’m a much stronger individual because of the contact through Street Roots. They planted a seed in me and have watched me grow! Working on committees, creative writing and pride parade, I have come out of my shell. Paper sales have supported me and my Corgis for seven years, giving me back my dignity. I, as well the community, have supported and benefitted from this wonderful street paper.
Thank you, Street Roots, for your many years of helping and supporting hundreds of people. Here’s to anther 20.
20 years
by Randy Humphreys
I have learned a lot at Street Roots. They have taught me a lot about myself and how to take a step back and control my anger.
I have experienced a lot of things because of Street Roots. It has been the best thing that has happened in my life. It sent me my girlfriend Angie.
Through all the good times and bad times we’ve had, she and Street Roots have been the best thing that’s happened in my life and I hope I can go for another 20 years.
It was fun to have the party for the anniversary, I got to sell papers and dance, it was the most fun I’ve had in very long time.
So I hope to achieve my goals to get sober and live a better, long life at Street Roots, and I hope to overcome this obstacle of my addictions and soon have a better life as part of the Street Roots family.
I hope Angie will soon be my wife, she is my inspiration and my angel, my life and my everything.
Roses are red, violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
The sun is beautiful and so are you.
Thanks, Randy
Twenty years of Street Roots
by Doug Marcks
This marks 20 years of Street Roots, of which I have been a part for the last seven years. At first it was a way for me to make a little cash when I was living on the streets, but it quickly became something more. It became an outlet for creativity and connecting with people. Through simply selling the paper, first at City Market and later Peet’s Coffee, I would develop regular customers and friendships both at the office and at my selling spots.
Then I discovered the Creative Writing Workshop, which has made me a published author – something in my wildest dreams I never dreamt would ever happen. But I now have 20-plus poems or prose printed in multiple issues of the paper and several zines. I have done multiple poetry readings here and other venues, like the US Bank Room of the Central Library.
Street Roots has been a godsend for me and many, many more people living on the streets over the last 20 years and will continue to be hopefully for 20 years longer or more.
To Street Roots
by Anjali Rathore
Walked in broken, confused, scared to my wits
Bereft of any understanding anymore about me
Unsure, unclear, feeling unclean with thought that seemed alien
First time doing something without a clue of what it would do for me.
Four and a half years of volunteering later,
Of countless frustrations and impasse
Of massive bouts of guilt and privilege self shame
Of innumerable grace and compassion
Of continuous learning and educating about me
I am unsure, unclear, confused, shameful
Frustrated many times,
But unclean, NO!
Thank you for that, Street Roots,
You have been a godsend, an organic loofah!
Here is to many more decades.
The Street Roots Office or The Painting on Purple Wall
by anonymous
A floor of rough and scuffed brown boards
A great big glass and wooden door
And purple walls and lots of words
A ring of desks just like a wagon fort
Where workers cluster, talk and sort
They block the pass with bright red ropes
And clean the bathroom, scrub the floor
The signs say we oppose bad dope
On the wall sails the ship of hope
With trees so green, on seas so blue
A white ship sails to lands so rich and new
To some far off exotic port of call
Where stars fall
Out of glory skies
Somewhere the world
explodes with blinding light
Somewhere we sing
And dance all night
Somewhere we scream and howl and fight
Somewhere far beyond our office