Recently I was reminded that appearances say a lot. On Memorial Day I walked from my apartment to Sault Ste. Marie’s only grocery store. The weather looked promising. A brisk breeze put pep in my step, zip in my hip and pride in my stride. Military veterans will remember the first time they heard their drill sergeant yell those non-cadence phrases. I walked with all the confidence of a trainee who couldn’t tell a drill from a commanding officer.
As I approached the Ashmun Street Bridge, a man and two young children walked towards me. Before we met, he took the hand of each little girl and crossed the street. This seemed a bit odd, but then I considered how I must look to him. I was wearing a baseball cap and nondescript clothing. I carried a cheap, black backpack. My walking sticks were clicking at my sides. My sunglasses were sliding down my nose. The refreshing breeze was blowing my hair in every direction. My backpack was flopping like a fish out of water.
Prior to leaving my apartment, I gave myself one last glance. All things considered, I thought I merited a thumbs up. Obviously, the young fellow didn’t see what I had seen. He was taking no chances as he herded his girls away from me before we were close enough for eye contact. I stopped on the bridge and watched the trio pass by. I called out a greeting which was ignored. That’s when a thought crossed my mind. The man, perhaps the father, might have mistaken me for a homeless person and worse yet, might have thought I was dangerous. I could be mistaken, but one never knows.
I turned down an alley that shortened the distance to the store’s front door. Before making the turn, I noticed a young couple sitting on a bench. Oh, dear, I thought. I hope they’re not homeless. After making a few purchases — one russet potato, one sweet potato, a quart of strawberries and a Dr. Pepper — I left the store and walked right into the couple. I stopped and we engaged in polite conversation before I asked the question they probably wanted to ask me. They laughed. No, they were not homeless. They were eating breakfast and catching some welcome rays before driving to Brimley.
When I told them about the dad who had crossed the street rather than meet me on the same side, we agreed he was merely being cautious. We can’t be too careful nowadays. We never know what’s in a person’s backpack or if a walking stick really is just that or something more sinister. The woman said the young fellow had crossed the street to avoid them then crossed back again. We laughed as we pictured him zigzagging down Ashmun Street Then we got serious.
We expressed concern about our times. Homelessness is on the rise and folks feel uneasy. Whether meeting an elderly woman using canes or an unkempt couple eating food on a bench, I suppose it’s better to cross the street rather than face the unknown.
I go unnoticed when I take side streets or alleys where I meet the most interesting people — the homeless, the drunks, the lonely. However, if I want something from the grocery store, I have no choice but to use the main street where respectable people walk. I probably do look like an oddity, an escapee from a nursing home. I forget that most folks my age do not walk on pavement. They get their daily constitutional by walking inside their apartment.
I enjoy walking outdoors and the sense of independence it gives me. I look forward to the fresh air, the exercise and even the odd looks I get especially when I wear my backpack. If I have a homeless appearance, so be it.
To contact Sharon Kennedy, send her an email at sharonkennedy1947@gmail.com. Kennedy’s book, “The SideRoad Kids as Adults,” is available from her or Amazon.
This article originally appeared on The Petoskey News-Review: Falsely judged by our appearance | Opinion
Reporting by Sharon Kennedy, Community Columnist / The Petoskey News-Review
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