Kensington is what happens when a city writes off an entire segment of its population as unimportant
Homelessness and addiction do not come to define a neighborhood unless we as a society make a choice to let it happen.
In his 2013 exhortation, The Joy of the Gospel, Pope Francis condemned what he described as a “disposable” or “throwaway” culture. This is a culture based on competition and survival of the fittest that excludes those who can’t or won’t live by these rules.
In such a culture, those on the fringe are no longer the exploited or oppressed, “but the outcast, the ‘leftovers.’” In other words, those who have no value and no longer matter.
I can’t think of a better example of what the pope is talking about than the unhoused who struggle with addiction and mental illness on the streets of Kensington.
Kensington is what happens when a city and a society write off an entire segment of its population as unimportant and not worth thinking about. Homelessness and addiction do not come to define a neighborhood unless we as a society make a choice to let it happen. And that is exactly what has happened in Kensington over and over again until the neighborhood became synonymous with poverty, drug use, and despair.
In my work at the St. Francis Inn soup kitchen, my coworkers and I see the results of decades of neglect and exclusion.
We see people suffering from severe addictions left to numb themselves into oblivion while society averts its eyes.
We see people suffering the effects of untreated mental illnesses allowed to battle their demons alone and without support.
We see the toll homelessness and poverty inflict on a person’s sense of self-worth and dignity.
We also see the casual disregard with which more “useful” members of society treat our guests.
A few summers ago, the occupants of a passing car shot fireworks at people sleeping on our sidewalk. Our guests are so vulnerable to violence and assault. They are constantly made to feel unwelcome, treated with suspicion, and seen as zombies rather than human beings.
The great prophets of the Old Testament remind us that how we treat the least and most vulnerable among us is how God will judge us, both as individuals and as a society.
As Isaiah says, “Is [the fast I seek] not sharing your bread with the hungry, bringing the afflicted and the homeless into your house; Clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own flesh?”
The people we see on the streets of Kensington are not “zombies,” but human beings.
Addressing the challenges that exist in Kensington begins by remembering that all people are our own flesh, even those who are poor, homeless, or suffer from addiction or mental illness.
The people we see on the streets of Kensington are not “zombies,” but human beings beloved by God and entitled to the same dignity and respect as every other person, regardless of circumstances.
Providing this dignity and respect begins by committing to meeting the most immediate needs of those at the bottom of society for food, shelter, and access to physical and mental health care services. These services must be provided without barriers or costs to those most in need of them.
Some argue that meeting people’s most basic needs without condition incentivizes addiction, laziness, and moral laxity while creating a culture of dependency. In fact, the opposite has shown itself to be true.
By not meeting these needs in the least of our brothers and sisters, we force them into an often brutal struggle for day-to-day survival. The trauma and pain of this life is one anyone would seek to numb with whatever substances are close at hand. Ignoring their needs, in other words, traps people in a cycle of trauma, addiction, and suffering with little hope of escape.
In the end, whether Kensington continues as a symbol of shame and neglect or becomes an example of what is possible when a society decides to care is up to us.
Will we continue to see some people as disposable, or will we recognize the least among us as our own flesh? How we answer this question will define whether we are a city of brotherly love or one of brotherly indifference.
Up to now, we have chosen indifference, but with a new city administration preparing to take office, we have the opportunity to choose better. It is our hope that the new administration will take this opportunity seriously and commit itself to honoring the dignity and humanity of all its citizens, including the homeless, addicted, and mentally ill, by developing the programs and services necessary to grant them the dignity that is theirs as human beings.
The Rev. Stephen DeWitt is a Franciscan friar who works at the St. Francis Inn, a soup kitchen in Kensington.