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Volunteering for Tent City

Today, I volunteered to help set up a tent city at it's new location at my synagogue. This is an organized homeless encampment that travels around;  mostly to churches  Moving Tent City requires a host of people willing to do hard work .We were hauling stuff like pallets, plywood, tents and boxes. Some of the people involved  were residents of Tent City and some were volunteers. Yes, you could recognize some as either residents or volunteers but labor is an amazing equalizer. For many it was really unclear what label applied. Some people were from churches, some from the synagogue, some were not native English speakers, some were young and others very old. We were all just people working hard together. You would hear these conversations, where a resident realized they were talking to someone who was a volunteer. I heard several people say thank you, but then the conversation would move on. I was talking to someone who I thought was a volunteer and turned out he was a resident. It didn't matter. What mattered was that we were working together in the commotion of moving heavy stuff over unstable footing. What mattered was the person holding the other end of the wood you were on,  was being careful and that you were working together to share the load. I've set up for big projects, done the heavy lifting and many other projects over the years and this was the nicest bunch of people I've ever worked with. Oh sure, human nature still prevailed. Some people talked more than they worked. Some people didn't always understand what they were supposed to do. That was accepted. There was no anger or ego. There was patience with the confusion. There was a very clear, strong desire to make sure everyone was safe and protected. Everyone was watching out for everyone else. There was no "us" and "them".

It was cold out and we worked hard. At lunch time we sat on crates, tent city furniture, and ate sack lunches which contained peanut sandwiches. We all appreciated those sandwiches. We appreciated we had a crate to sit on and the chance to rest for a moment. We wished it was warmer. All the dividing lines vanished that simply. I was probably one of the grubbier people there. Being the socially awkward individual I am, I didn't really know how to socialize with anyone. I know that some thought I was a resident. It shows you how misleading our stereotypes can be. I was probably one of the smallest people there. People tried to make sure I wasn't give too much to carry, but they quickly accepted my strength and attitude. I was appreciated because I could work hard. A few
times someone offered to help carry something for me. Instead of getting wrapped up in pride and wanting to prove I could work as hard as the big men, I saw that these were people who wanted to help. Some of them couldn't carry much themselves, but they wanted to know that they had contributed. That's why I was there too. I wish more often in the world, we could all be forced to work and sit as people together in the same situation.
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