Real Change. What, after 23 years, does that name mean?
Long, long ago, I came to Seattle to start a street newspaper. I’d been a homeless organizer in Boston since the late-’80s, and was struck then by how many people I met seemed to be waiting for nothing.
They waited in lines for food. For delousing and showers. The lines mostly led to little more than a bed for the night and a boot out the door when the sun rose. And then, they’d start another day of the same.