An old man is crying, crumpled against the wall of our local corner store.

I look down and away. I have a call to get ready for, I can't be distracted.

"Miss, please." His sobs continue, but now I'm looking at him and he's looking at me.

I walk over, crouch against the wall, and I ask how I can help.

He's hungry, and in pain because the hospital let him out too early. He wants a

sandwich, so we get up together, and I hold open the door for him to enter the

store.

As he walks in, he's shuddering a little, grabbing on to a shelf to keep upright.

He cries out again, tears running from his yellowed eyes.

The clerk looks up and asks "You okay unc?"

It's a stupid question.

I say, "He's sick", hoping we don't get kicked out.

Eventually we get to the register, and the old man orders a sandwich and a potato

salad. I tap my card, choosing the one that would give me the most cashback for the

purchase.

We walk out the door together, and sit against the wall again. I ask him if he has

a place to stay, and he says he's going to walk to a shelter. He's on a waiting

list for housing, but he'll be on the street till then, in his words.

We call a local helpline, but they just give him information he already knows. I

feel helpless after just twenty minutes of trying and failing to change the

horrific situation this man is in.

"Are you going to be okay?"

It's a stupid question.

He smiles faintly, and pats me on the hand.

"You've done enough for me."

I know he's wrong, and I think he knows it too, but what's interesting is that he

still said it.

For me, maybe, so I can go on my way guilt-free, having done my good deed of the

day.

For him, because he knows I care more about my comfort than his life, and that's a

hard lesson to keep learning.

"Good luck. I'm sorry I can't do more," I lie, to him and to myself. Then I leave.

The irony of leaving someone who is unhoused to get on a call about homelessness in

Atlanta does not escape me.

It's hard to follow the status quo when you repeatedly experience the

contradictions of our society. When you encounter so many people living on the

street each day, do nothing to make a substantial difference in their lives, and

then go on to talk to your friends and family about the homelessness crisis.

It's an exhausting way to live, and yet, we're all doing it. Why? Because changing

a system built on suffering and exploitation seems too big, too uncertain, and too

impossible. Because as long as we have some sense of security, we won't be the one

who's on the street, waiting for help that doesn't seem like it's coming.

It's not enough to be nice, or do a good deed now and again. We need real, serious

change, and a future that doesn't run on the suffering of people who we then decide

not to care about.