Under the overpass at the corner of Pryor Street and Rawson Ave lies an unhoused encampment. Tents create a community of housing for hundreds of individuals and families. The wheezing of cars overhead and driving past creates a sound of heavy traffic, occasionally honking. As the team walks over, you see an aluminum cloth drift into the air and land on top of drivers as they head toward Central Avenue. This aluminum cloth is a community emergency thermal blanket that has floated away from someone’s belongings. There are hundreds of these encampments in the City of Atlanta as the visual representation of the thousands of people, our fellow community members, friends, family, mothers, fathers, children, and neighbors in the city who are unhoused or facing housing insecurity.
Unhoused individuals are often underserved, overlooked, undermined, and unloved. Today, we ask our community members what “Love” means to them. Love is such a strong, powerful word with infinite definitions. Bell Hooks, American author and social activist, stated in her book, “All About Love,” “If our society had a commonly held understanding of the meaning of love, the act of loving would not be mystifying.” In our conversations, we hear the stories of the “acts” of love that are in movement daily: affection, appreciation, support, grief, and more.
Durrell was the first person I had the pleasure of speaking with. When we arrived, he Lonnie and Mr. Benard, an older gentleman, were sitting and talking in front of their tent. When we asked,” What does love mean to you?” Durrell initiated our journey on the definition of love in their personal and worldly views. He shared his truth and dedication to God, stating that his mission in life is to spread love wherever he can, praying daily and asking God for his needs.
“Love is a powerful force, so is wisdom” was one of the first things he stated.
Durrell was recently released from prison and is hurt that he can not continue those relationships he created there. With the love he has for other people who are still in prison, he is frustrated that he can not continue to support them, write to them, or even check on them as all possibilities of communication have been severed.
“Can I speak on somebody’s behalf, they not dead, they are still alive. They need life,” Durrell said. “When you speak to them, if you write a letter, you send money, something, you give life. They are dying there. It’s a whole nother world there. I lost myself there. I thank Lord Jesus I’m outside.”
His faith and words of wisdom were genuinely enlightening and humbling. He expressed so much gratitude for his situation and the community/ family he has made.
“That’s everybody’s journey is to find out what love is and how they express it to themselves and externally.”
Durrell’s friend and roommate Lonnie said, ”I need love because I love myself, cuz if I don’t love myself, how can I afford to love anybody else. “
Lonnie shared the story of the love of his mother. “A mother’s love.” He continued to share his eternal gratitude for his mother, stating, “She could have aborted me” and “she loved me for 37 years”.
He told stories of how growing up, he didn’t even feel “poor” or understand that his family had less than others because his mother gave him everything he needed. “Not your grandmother, aunt, or daddy could love you like a mother loves her child.”
Photo by Jordan Harvey and Rodney Allen/The Atlanta Voice
During our conversation, Lonnie asked Durrell, “Do you love me?” Durrell replied just as energetically as he had been sharing golden nuggets of knowledge before: “YEA, I love you, man!”
Ms. Terra, or “Mama,” as they call her, sits resting in her chair in the sun beside her tent. When asked what love means to her, she said, “Love is a spiritual thing for me because it comes from the heart.
“When you love someone genuinely, it comes from the heart. Love is having an understanding of someone. “
“I have three children and lost two parents, and that love is still there. When you love someone, you love them, cherish them, and make sure they are safe because you love them, and it comes from the heart.”
Ms. Terra shared with me that she lost her son last week.
“I’m brokenhearted. My son died,” she said. “I had a heart attack because my heart was so broken. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move forward… and that’s love.”
She continued, “I am in tears because it’s hard to explain that there’s so much to love. I just want the best for them, and if I’m not around them, I pray all the time to make sure they are safe. That was the hardest thing. I try to stay around other people, so I am not alone.”
The Atlanta Voice shared these stories to foster empathy in those who might pass by on their way to work. People can donate toiletries and essentials or offer a helping hand rather than turning a blind eye when they have the chance to make a difference.
Like all of us, they have a name, a story, a voice, and a right to be protected.
Share your story:
● How can you show love today to our unhoused community members?
● How has another unhoused brethren or community member shown love to you?