We all have dreams, aspirations, and goals. Mine is The Starving Artist Project. I have always been called a dreamer. I have always been told that I have a huge imagination. I have always known that everything is possible if you work hard and you believe. I have always believed in these things. Until now.
I have learned over the past few months that it takes more than hard work; it takes more than inspiration, aspirations, ambition, goals, planning, and execution. It takes more than belief. What does it take to keep a dream alive? I think it takes a collective of humanity that just doesn’t seem to exist anymore.
This is MAX
I love animals (bear with me, I’m not changing the subject,) I support animal charities. I have a wonderful little dog, named Max, that I love with all my heart. That being said, I also believe that we should invest as much in helping other human beings as we do supporting causes that help all the amazing animals in the world.
If I were to ask for donations to feed homeless, neglected animals, I would be cashing checks for thousands of dollars and helping thousands upon thousands of them. However, asking for donations to feed homeless and neglected people mostly generates scorn and criticism. I’m told that these people are worthless, that they don’t care about themselves so why should anyone else care? I’m told that they are lazy, incompetent drug addicts and drunks.
I’ve tried to educate on the real faces of homelessness. I’ve tried to draw a picture of just who we are trying to reach and provide a little assistance… and have discovered that misconceptions, stereotypes, and prejudices are so ingrained in our society that it is next to impossible to get through. Sure, people are willing to toss out their out of date canned goods, or get rid of food in their pantries that they don’t want, figuring that “hey, anything is good enough for THOSE people, right.” They are not looking at their faces. They are not looking at the children who are suffering. They are not looking at the massive number of American veterans who have served our country and are now tossed aside and forgotten. They live in their bubbles of personal security believing that these things could never happen to them.
To illustrate my last paragraph… There is a man named Todd who works with the homeless in eastern Tennessee. One evening he was in the emergency room of a Knoxville area hospital because of an injury. The nurse who was taking care of him made comments about some of the other patients seeking treatment that night. She labeled them and even made fun of their situations. When Todd explained what he did for a living, she suddenly became ashamed and for the rest of his time spent in the ER, a different nurse took care of him. I wish I had been there. Over the past few years I have met many health care workers who have come upon hard times and ended up having to spend time in a homeless shelter. No, they weren’t drug addicts or drunks. They were people who spent most of their lives taking care of others, and when they fell on hard times were lumped into the category of “worthless.”
Let me share one of those stories with you. Sharon L., who currently lives in Florida, spent over 30 years as a Registered Nurse. After she retired, her husband became terminally ill. As a result of his prolonged illness, they lost their life savings; and then she lost her husband. With their home having been sold to pay medical bills that their insurance didn’t cover, and she herself now unable to work due to her own health issues, she ended up in a homeless shelter until she could save up enough money to pay first and last months rent, utility deposits, etc. She lost 30 pounds because of a lack of proper nutrition during this time. Sure, she made it through this, but… it could have been so different. It could have been easier, if people would have just realized that it could happen to them too.
I titled this article, “The Death of a Dream,” because as I began writing, I fully intended to give up my dream of helping others. I really believed that it was time to give up, to throw in the towel, to move on. But, then I realized something. There are people who care. Those who have donated… CARE. Those who follow us, and read our articles… CARE. My family and friends… CARE. The people who
Part of the first food delivery The Starving Artist Project delivered because there are people who care.
can be helped through this little, fledgling, start-up charity… CARE, and someday, when they are again successful, the same people that you all help will become the driving force for change.
Therefore, I am not going to give up. I am not going to quit. I am going to continue working to make a difference. I am going to continue to ask for your help, donations, and support, and try to find creative ways to fund our project. AND, I will continue to eat cheap, eat well, and share stories, recipes, shopping tips, etc.
Now, perhaps, I should change the title of this article from “The Death of a Dream,” to “Remembering Why I am Doing This,” but, I think not. The reason is, when I started writing today, I believed it was the death of a dream. It was only in remembering why I am doing this, through writing this article, and thinking of all of YOU who have helped, and do believe that something once again sparked inside of me. Thank you, and I love you all!
Until next time,
Deanna
The Starving Artist Project 