The Homeless Man with Heart-Shaped Sunglasses

the Hu(ck)Man Behind the Sunglasses

I recently had a heart-filled interaction with a fellow we’ll call “Huck” to protect his privacy. (Why that name comes to mind for him had me puzzled at first, but Huckleberry Finn was considered somewhat of a roamer, wasn’t he?)

For someone experiencing homelessness, Huck’s outfit was pretty snappy. He had on dark jeans, a button-up, and a pair of immaculately clean Adidas. His whitening hair was in neat cornrow braids, done up in two twisted buns that somehow outclassed Princess Leia’s. And instead of a cell phone or smart watch, all he sported was a pair of rosy, heart-shaped sunglasses.

Looking at Huck, it wasn’t immediately obvious that he was homeless. It took some talking to learn about his nights living without shelter on an urban beach and the myriad of everyday barriers he was facing because of it. He recently lost his job at a recycling plant after being buried by rubble twice and reporting it. Most of his money was stolen. His associations are questionable (at times violent), and without an income, his car can only be used as the occasional space heater.

And yet, despite all of this and more, Huck has the poise of a palm tree. The waves can crash at his feet, the winds can howl around him. He sways, but he will not be broken. 

Homelessness: The Stigma We Still Don’t See

When I complimented Huck’s heart-shaped glasses, he let out a good-natured sigh.

“You know, I’m always smiling at people,” Huck said. “But when people look into my eyes, it’s like they see a thief or a murderer or something. They’re scared. I don’t get it.” 

For people in Huck’s position, positive efforts are often automatically stunted by systemic and cultural disadvantages. The public largely views drug addiction and mental illness as the top causes for homelessness, both of which are frequently associated with danger, crime, and nuisance behavior.

Moreover, Huck is black. In the United States, that’s still an inherent disadvantage.

Our bathrooms and restaurants aren’t segregated by skin color anymore, but society remains built to siphon opportunity and security away from the black population all the same. From median income to life expectancy, there remains a stifling gap between the majority and the minority. 

Black people are also twice more likely to encounter threats or uses of force during police interactions. Three times more likely to be jailed for the same charges. Ninety-three percent more likely to be targeted for hate crimes. 

For a people so historically battered and presently underserved, it’s no wonder their generational trauma is disproportionately heavy.

Dignity and Heart in the Face of Disadvantage

“I love smiling. I love people,” Huck told me as I listened, admiring the energy he’d cultivated. 

For a man who has little to his name beyond a justice-involved rap sheet and a life riddled with hardships, he’s exceptionally patient with the punches. He’s able to acknowledge the pain and keep afloat on a cool demeanor. The image of palm trees came to mind again. 

Time was relatively short for us; I didn’t get to pick his brain about philosophy or worldviews, much as I would have liked to. But what was obvious was the amount of love Huck had within him. It was enough to temporarily dissolve the sting of the public’s unfavorable views of him.

Huck pointed to his sunglasses with another winning smile. 

“So you know what? I started wearing these glasses,” he said. “The hearts are to spread some love.”  

The sentiment echoed the same thing I repeat in the face of less-than-peachy circumstances.

Drown it in love.

Heart-Shaped Glasses and the Quiet Power of Love

Huck doesn’t carry a gallon of sunshine around with him, but his humility and smile are charms of their own. The heart-shaped sunglasses merely accent the inner work he’s done, choosing to focus on love instead of adversity. 

It’s a beautiful thing, too, because the approach blesses more than just his everyday interactions. As Huck spoke about various aspects of his life—like years-old court issues that just never seemed to go away—there was a certain detachment that kept him from getting swept away by it. I have an inkling that he’s privy to the notion that life is but a game, and we are merely its players. 

We do what we can with what we have. The rest unfolds itself. To struggle and surmount is to be human; to suffer is to become a victim to our predicaments.

 What a beautiful reflection to be found in a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses.

Thank you, Huck.

-`♡´-