Several months ago, my husband and I went to Panera to have a day date. It’s during our day dates where we usually go to a coffee shop to have some tea and have deep intentional conversations around our dreams, marriage, and just overall life. On this particular day we were having a deep conversation that was soon interrupted by a man who introduced himself as an artist and musician. Boy was he full of high energy.
He shared about Youtube and all the opportunities it provides educationally, and then transitioned to sharing how there are millions of people in Chicago and yet we don’t SEE each other. He posed the question, “How can that be?” And then before I knew it, he sat at the table between us that allowed for us to make direct eye contact as he flowed between one deep topic to the next. One could say it felt random, but for me there was something God was doing, and trying to say in the midst of our new neighbor friend sharing his heart with us. As random as it felt, it actually wasn’t random.
“Hey, you need to leave,” words that echoed behind me as I was getting all the more engaged in our conversation. At this point he began to share his mental health journey with us, and how 2022 was a year of emotional growth for him. I had so many questions, but we were rudely interrupted by those in power, security guards. I turned to them and asked, “Does he have to leave? We were enjoying our conversation with him.” They uncompassionately responded with, “No, they don’t want him here.”
It was in that moment where I was overcome with so much frustration with how others can so quickly dismiss others, our neighbors plainly for being different, for not being neurotypical or having a home. I don’t know this man’s exact situation, but I could sense he was just looking for a friend, for someone to listen, but most of all someone who would SEE him, and not see what made him different from the “norm.”
Before he prepared to gather his things, I asked him his name. A taken a back a bit, he said, “Cameron.” To which I said: “Cameron, I SEE YOU.” He gave me a soft emotional smile and a fist bump, and then I asked if I can give him my silicone bracelet that said: Mental health Matters. Earlier in our conversation I noticed he was already wearing several other inspiring silicone bracelets. He excitedly grabbed it and said, “Yes, mental health matters.”
He grabbed his things as he fought for his dignity, and looks at the guards and says, “It’s okay I’m not mad at you, I still love you.” And then he looked at us and said, “Thank you, I know you love me.” as he looks at Jeremy’s hoodie that says LOVE THY NEIGHBOR.
The entire situation left us feeling unsettled. I sat in silence feeling like I didn’t do enough, thinking of what MORE could have looked like.