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By Wendy Rojo
The buzz of the mosquitoes, the smell of the grill, and the warm heat hitting my skin all make me remember the summertime. As a child this meant the end of the school year and sleeping in, which I favored.
Every weekend we would go to the park and play our version of kickball and then we would eat the juiciest watermelon I ever tasted. But every time I ate watermelon as a child, I swore that occasion was the best so perhaps my judgment on watermelon was skewed.
I looked forward to summer every year as a child even if the mosquitoes attacked me the moment I stepped foot outside. It was all part of the summertime experience, and it brought a unique sense of excitement. Back then this time of year equated to restfulness since I no longer had to wake up early for school.
But perhaps cherishing the nostalgia and reminiscing is what motivates us to create new memories during the summer as adults.
However, as an adult the summertime looks a little different. There is no longer a break, life just continues. We continue working. The nostalgia we felt as children can get lost when you are an adult. But perhaps cherishing the nostalgia and reminiscing is what motivates us to create new memories during the summer as adults.
As adults we are finally able to fully use our free will. We can choose to have dessert before our meal, we can choose to sleep late, and we can choose to stay in bed all day. It is no different when it comes to summer. We can choose and decide what is best for us. Whether that means taking it a bit slower or taking this time to work or using this time to pursue other endeavors.
But the summertime can be an undesirable
time because of the unsafe heat levels in Texas. The temperatures can go up into the 100s which can be extremely dangerous especially if you do not have the tools to stay cool. The World Health Organization says that the stress from the heat can cause weatherrelated illnesses or increase the likelihood of cardiovascular disease, diabetes, mental health, and asthma. It is crucial to be aware of the dangers of the extreme weather and take the necessary precautions.
As adults we are able to enjoy summer while simultaneously being aware that there are those in our community who need a hand during these hot months.
The Texas Hospital Association suggests staying hydrated, dressing appropriately, planning outdoor activities during nonheat peak hours, and to creating a cool environment. Dallas County opens its public facilities as cooling stations to those who need them. This includes any libraries or recreation centers. In addition, many local shelters are open to those who need a cool place. These resources are crucial during
these dangerous months because they could be the difference between life or death.
These resources are crucial during these dangerous months because they could be the difference between life or death.
The summertime can come with various challenges. Challenges that as a child you may not have known about. But this time can also be an exciting time. As adults we are able to enjoy summer while simultaneously being aware that there are those in our community who need a hand during these hot months.
STREETZine is an enrichment program of the Stewpot.
The STREETZine is a monthly newspaper published by The Stewpot, a ministry of the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas. The Stewpot provides services and resources for people experiencing homelessness or who are at risk of being homeless. The organization also offers opportunities for a new life.
As part of this ministry, the STREETZine seeks to raise awareness about the issues surrounding homelessness and poverty. The monthly publication also offers financial opportunity for Stewpot clients who sell the paper to Dallas residents. Vendors are able to move towards economic self-sufficiency by using the money they receive from selling copies to purchase bus passes, food, and necessary living expenses. Clients also receive stipends for contributing articles to STREETZine
The content in STREETZine does not necessarily reflect the views or endorsement of its publisher, editors, contributors, sponsors or advertisers. To learn more about this publication, contact Betty Heckman, Director of Enrichment, 1835 Young Street, Dallas, Texas 75201 or BettyH@thestewpot.org. To read more about STREETZine, a member of the International Network of Street Papers, go to www. thestewpot.org/streetzine.
Managing Editor: Wendy Rojo
Editorial Advisory Board: The Rev. Amos Disasa
Brenda Snitzer
Suzanne Erickson
Russell Coleman
Poppy Sundeen
Sarah Disasa
William McKenzie
Betty Heckman
Dee Leone
By Reverend Dr. Charlene Jin Lee
It’s official. It is sandal season. I offer this not as an authority on fashion but as your companion in following the way of Jesus. You see, there is a blessing that is said to have been common in Jesus’ time. The blessing is found in the Mishnah, the collection of teachings from Jewish oral tradition. This blessing was given to disciples as they began their journey as students following a particular rabbi:
“Beloved, may you be covered with the dust of your Rabbi.”
Disciples walked behind their teacher, following them from place to place. For those who followed closely, by the end of the day, they would be covered by the cloud of dust from the road kicked off by the sandals of their teacher.
As summer approaches, the church prepares to enter a season called Ordinary Time. Now ordinary doesn’t mean not special or boring. It derives from the Latin ordo, which means order. Ordinary Time is a season when we attend to ordering ourselves in the manner of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. It is a time to order our steps again, walking behind Jesus, who leads us to joy more complete — to a life lived no longer by ourselves, no longer for ourselves.
Ordinary Time is a time of learning. A time for growing in the grace and knowledge of God. It is a time to consider how our decisions and devotions, priorities and perspectives, actions and activities reflect the grace we have received — or not.
Jesus’ first disciples collected a lot of dust on them. Sometimes it was because they were walking right behind Jesus, following up close, amazed by his healing power, inspired by his patient love, and challenged by his particular care for the ones looked over by others. At other times, the dust came from their own sandals as they ran, shuffling back to their place behind Jesus, after realizing they had wandered off on another way, a way they thought was better.
The disciples of the early church hardly stayed in one place. The church was growing as the story of the mercy of the risen Christ spread as Good News for all who were longing for hope. The church was growing rapidly, with new communities being formed in new places. There was a lot of walking to do: literally and spiritually. They went to meet new believers and they showed them how followers of Jesus are called to live. The church in various cultures and times would be united by one devotion: to follow as faithfully as they could, the way Jesus lived.
The people who formed the early church did not call themselves Christians. Instead, they called themselves the People of the Way: the people who followed the Way of Jesus. The “way” as early Jewish communities understood it was not a noun. The People of the Way, the People of Hallekah literally meant people of the “walking.” The way — Hallekah — is a verb. The disciples of Jesus Christ — we — are People of Hallekah: People of the Walking.
In this summer season of Ordinary Time, may each of us and our community together pause to check the direction of our steps. Where are we going? Who are we becoming?
My prayer is that we are going to every place Jesus calls us and doing the things Christ has shown us to do.
Love God.
Love one another. Do justice.
Love mercy. Walk humbly.
May we feel the billowing up of grace like dust rising from all our ordered steps towards a life of humble insignificance, of generous giving away of ourselves and of all that we have carefully counted and saved. So put on those summer sandals. Let’s walk.
Soon enough, you and I will become people marked by joy and reverence, simplicity and kindness, truth-telling and forbearance. All the imprints of People of the Walking.
Reverend Dr. Charlene Jin Lee is Associate Pastor for Practice and Formation at the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas.
By Brenda Snitzer
My birthday is in the summer. I’ve always felt like a summer baby. It’s my favorite season – even as hot as it gets in Texas. I’ve lived all but nine months of my life in Texas. As a child, I grew up climbing trees, playing outside endlessly, and swimming in our apartment pool all summer. It was the best.
I started going to camp in elementary school. I was a Camp Fire girl and we went to camp as a troop. Then starting the summer before sixth grade I began going to Baylor camp. Most of the counselors were Baylor University students or high school juniors and seniors. I loved it. I would stay there anywhere from two to four weeks.
I loved everything about the outdoors. Each year, I took swim lessons and by the time I was 16, I took the Life Saving course so I could work at Baylor Camp. Starting the summer of junior year in high school, I started teaching swimming and canoeing at Baylor camp, two of my favorite activities. I did that for five summers. I made it through the school year just so I could be at camp in the
summer. I even lived through one of the hottest summers in the 80’s at summer camp. We had to stay inside during the afternoon. And yes, I ended up going to Baylor University too.
As an adult now, I still love the summer. I passed down my love of camp to my two boys who are now adults. Baylor Camp was not around when they were at the age to go to camp, so they went to the Presbyterian camp, Gilmont, in East Texas. They both grew up loving it as much as I did and became camp counselors too.
I also appreciate that our Stewpot Children and Youth program has the opportunity to do weeklong full days for the young people to participate in educational and enrichment activities and lots of field trips all summer.
One is now on the board of directors for Camp Gilmont, since he’s an adult. I still think it is one of the best things for children and youth to experience: the outdoors and overnight camp. I’m really grateful that our Stewpot youth get to attend one week at Gilmont every summer. I also appreciate that our Stewpot Children and Youth program has the opportunity to do weeklong full days for the young people to participate in educational and enrichment activities and lots of field trips all summer. It’s like day camp all summer. The program has
been going for more than 50 years, and it continues to expand and grow in programming every year.
But one thing I do not like as an adult now about the summer, is how hot it is for our neighbors who are in shelters or living on the street. I am glad we now have the Connector to assist with transportation around downtown among the different services, but I know it does not get them everywhere they need to go. I worry about our friends who spend so much of their time outside. It is uncomfortable and dangerous. Many of our neighbors have nowhere to get out of the heat and don’t have enough water to access. These are the negatives I see for summer.
I am glad we now have the Connector to assist with transportation around downtown among the different services, but I know it does not get them everywhere they need to go.
I am glad we at The Stewpot are able to assist in providing water and a little time out of the elements. I hope it’s not too hard on folks this summer and that we don’t have many 100 degree days. Even still, this Texas girl still loves the summer – even if I do worry about our neighbors.
Brenda Snitzer is the executive director of The Stewpot.
By Poppy Sundeen
For parents of school-aged children, summer is more than a season; it’s a challenge — the challenge of keeping their kids actively engaged physically, mentally, and socially. The Stewpot Summer Day Camp helps them more than meet that challenge by providing comprehensive (and fun!) offerings for first through 12th graders.
For parents of school-aged children, summer is more than a season; it’s a challenge — the challenge of keeping their kids actively engaged physically, mentally, and socially.
“We have a lot of activities,” says Alma Reyes who directs the camp in her role as manager of The Stewpot’s Children, Youth, and Family Program. “We have art classes, STEM, social and emotional learning.” There’s also plenty of play time with room to run, so “kiddos can get their wiggles out,” as Alma puts it.
The activities Alma and the campers look forward to most are field trips. “We don’t tell them where they’re going until the very day. They ask, and some of the teachers will say, ‘Oh, we’re going to the mayonnaise factory or we’re going to see how shoes are made.’ We try to trick them, and then we see their excitement once they find out where we’re actually going. That’s my favorite thing.” Field trips in the past have included movies, Legoland, the trampoline park, and the water park. And the plans for upcoming trips? They’re top secret!
Until 2025, the camp was held at First Presbyterian Church in downtown Dallas. This summer marks their first in a new location, leased from Cornerstone Church in Pleasant Grove. “We were looking for a new home, so we could get closer to the community we serve. This was really a great opportunity.”
The new layout is well suited to the program. Elementary camper activities are centered one side of the campus with older students are on the other. “They come together for breakfast and lunch provided through our partnership with
Education Potential Verified (EPV), a government-based program.”
Camp days begin at 9:00 and end at 4:00 on Mondays through Thursdays. Friday sessions end at 1:00, so instructors can use the afternoon to prepare for the week ahead.
For the past six years, the program has teamed with Noggin Educational Foundation to offer academic enrichment with the goal of keeping campers’ reading and math skills from lapsing over summer break. Other partnerships include The Family Place to teach the older students about healthy boundaries and Our Friends’ Place to offer lessons in conflict resolution and life skills.
is where I’m supposed to be.” Ten years later, she still feels that way.
High school-age youth also participate in local college tours. “In the past,” says Alma, “we’ve visited UTA and UTD.” Last year’s crop of graduating campers included students who are going to Texas A&M, Texas Christian, and to cosmetology school. “We not only encourage them to go to college; we also talk about vocation and trade schools to help them find what it is they’re most passionate about.”
Alma knows how important it is to find the right career path, because she’s grateful to have found hers. “My interest in psychology started in high school.” After college at Tarleton State, she earned a master’s degree in counseling specializing in family therapy, and she recently completed a master’s in public administration.
Alma knows how important it is to find the right career path, because she’s grateful to have found hers.
“I did a lot of case management in the past and I worked with victims of violent crime when I first started in nonprofit area.” Then one day a childhood friend told Alma about The Stewpot’s Children, Youth, and Family Program. “I thought this
In her decade with The Stewpot, Alma has seen the impact of summer camp. “Some of our most recent high school graduates started in first or second grade and they said it felt like their second home. It made us really proud that they felt safe and secure here and that we gave them the space to be themselves.”
She tells the story of one boy who attended camp for the first time in third grade. “When he started, he was very quiet and had a hard time interacting with people, even his peers. After just one summer he was interacting with his peers, and two years later it was like a night-and-day difference. He didn’t turn into the most extroverted child, but he found his voice.”
Alma cherishes victories like that. “I attended an after-school program when I was younger, and I know how much of an impact it had on me,” she says. “I wanted to give that back.”
Poppy Sundeen, a Dallas writer, is a member of The STREETZine editorial board.
Editor’s Note: Each Friday morning at 10 a.m., The Stewpot hosts a Writers’ Workshop. During the sessions, participants address selected topics through prose or poetry. In this edition of STREETZine, we feature the essays of writers that reflect how they viewed summertime as a child versus an adult.
By James Varas
When I think about summer, I think of the waters I have seen in my lifetime. I think of the cool clean water we would swim in or even a beautiful clean stream of water that naturally flows out of a river.
I used to go swimming in the lake in The Woodlands, Texas, and remember backpacking into the woods at Pedernales Falls. It was one of the most beautiful pools of natural water I had ever seen. My brother found a lagoon and the water was a beautiful light blue. We swam in it, trying not to fall off the slippery slopes of the round rocks that bordered its sides. We could even see small fish at the bottom. It almost felt like swimming in mineral water from a natural spring.
I also remember the beach. When I was young, we would cruise to the beach and spend a weekend. I remember my dad would stop at HEB in Port Aransas and fill the cooler with soda and beer. He would buy limes for his Corona and would cover the drinks deep in ice. It was hard trying to fight the ice as a child trying to find a Coke.
By Gershon Trunnell
Ah, summer.
Whether we were with friends or with other families, going to the coast together was always a wonderful memory. I loved playing in the ocean and letting the waves crash on my body. I would even jump over them and in them as they came rolling towards me. The salt water on my lips and the feeling of being in a majestic ocean that God created was always something that satisfied my soul.
I remember the beach during this time of my childhood. I remember the sound of the seagulls calling out for a Good Samaritan to offer a meal. I also remember running as fast as I could into the ocean and then diving into a wave. The salt water crashing on my face and in my eyes was a feeling of cleansing. The wet sand on my feet and the taste of a Coca-Cola after a long session of body surfing. My dad would also keep a separate cooler filled with wonderful foods.
While we were in H-E-B, he would buy provolone cheese and ham. He would also buy roast beef and some amazing pepper ham. All I remember is the provolone cheese with the sand from my
Sing along: “Summertime, summertime, sum, sum, summertime.”
In my lifetime, summer has been a time for vacation, fun and entertainment. I remember when skating rinks and water parks were the thing to do. To me, it used to be fun in the sun. Now it’s more like survival withstanding the heat and air quality. I don’t see much to do besides find a cooling station. It used to be beach parties. Now it’s all social media.
I enjoy the sun and the powers of it. Yes, the times and seasons do change. I took some time to visit the neighborhood I grew up in. We used to gather at the parks and have cookouts. The public pool was open.
Now all I saw was an empty park with people camping out along the shaded outskirts of the park and bike trails. It used to be different in a good way. I’m thankful for revelations and the ability to understand the times.
Gershon Trunnell is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
fingers with whatever meat I had chosen. It was a delightful taste. The bread was fresh, and the cheese was sliced a little thicker than normal. I will always recall these childhood memories.
I remember when my cousin came to the beach with us, we would build sandcastles and try to dig as deep as we could under the castle, making tunnels and entranceways beneath the sand. We would also collect shells and crabs on the beach. I remember trying to find clams and collecting them in my bucket.
I would put my clams into a bucket with sand and water and watch them dig into it and hide themselves under the surface. At the end of the day, I would take the clams back to the water and release them. I also loved digging a huge hole near the water and burying my legs and feet. Then, I would try to escape to see if I could fight the weight of the sand.
These are just a few of thousands of memories I have of childhood summer days.
James Varas is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
Summer Thoughts
By Marilu
Summer is once again drawing close. Lines of people begin to appear outside snowball parlors and shaved-ice kiosks. Ladies switch their baggy jeans and knitted tops for breezy summer clothes with lacy butterfly edges fluttering in the wind. Children, fresh out of school and without a care, frolic in and out of the queues, waiting for their favorite snowball flavors: Tiger’s Blood and Nectar. A-Chance-in-Hell featuring black garlic, homemade molasses and chocolate syrup awaits certain tough teenagers.
Men in flip-flops, baring their shoulders and legs, step into bars for a respite from the heat and humidity. Mint Julep, a favorite summer cocktail in the South, quenches many a thirsty and overheated soul. Bartenders would call anyone’s bluff if they claimed to drink liquor without downing the famed Hurricane.
Ships and the occasional joy cruise quietly dock and depart the port of New Orleans, where Cajun music played on accordions can be heard throughout the riverfront and the Vieux Carré. Tourists
By Ty Umondak
in summer gear brave the humid and hot weather. One of their must-stop places is Café Du Monde at the French Market, where chicory coffee and beignet are all the buzz.
My childhood favorite ice cream in a cup was named Arctic Ocean, once upon a summertime before additives took over the food industry in Asia. There was a wrap-around image of polar bears in a sea of icebergs under a blue sky on the cup that held the velvety, icy custard, the color of egg yolk. It took only five scoops to devour a cup. How pleasurable and fleeting that moment was!
The arrival of summer evokes memories of a lake named Jade Origin in the neighborhood where I grew up overseas. Families pedaled their bicycles in late afternoon to reach its north bank. Summer grasses and bushes along the shoreline exuded pungent fragrance. The south shore was a mere 200 yards across. Swimmers dived from above the gate that controlled the narrow flow between Jade Origin and its sister lake. The western sun beamed brilliant rays, darkening the skin of swimmers young and old. The sky a shade of orange pink.
Summertime! Youthful freedom whose only restrictions come from the ones that feed them. My energy is limitless when the sun dies, not wanting to compromise as I see the night’s sky. Curfew is a purview I don’t want to interview. However, transgression may lead me in the direction of an unwanted lesson, so during these times I abandoned the obsession in hopes that tomorrow will be another blessing.
Summertime! The beauty of innocence and the charity of childhood memories may be a gift to the ones who have lived to see the wrinkle in the smile I see. However, some wizened eyes may have seen cruelty in this time which just resurrects the pain inside — one we can’t hide because of summertime’s light that all began on one single night.
All seasons started from within. Men and women just gave them definition and a lens. Summertime for you and summertime for me may be a different shade as we sit under the tree.
The way man, woman, and child look at summertime may depend on the climate inside. It may be hot without but cold within, which determines the state the soul is in.
Experience in this season may be the reason for believing, and believing may be the reason for achieving or grieving — in our summertimes.
Grade-school students back then were subjected to entrance exams for middle school, high school and college around early July. There were a couple of weeks for them to play to their hearts’ content before the scores came out, when classmates got separated into different schools. The pressure wasn’t suited to every student. Neither was the failure as bad as parents and teachers made it out to be.
This summer, while many are on vacation and taking it easy, many more are busy working on what matters to them. Their passion hotter than the three-digit temperature; their determination more intense than the storm systems brewing off the coast of West Africa.
The foghorns no longer toot on the Mississippi River when the night air temperature rises above dew point. I dream of the swamps surrounding New Orleans, where creatures of all kinds once ruled the subtropical wetland.
Marilu is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
By Kenneth Henry
Summer is always the best time of year when you are a kid. Of course, we looked forward to getting out of school for the summer break. When I was a kid back in the mid 60s to 70s, we had a complete three-month break from the beginning of June until after Labor Day. I looked forward to sleeping late and being outside for most of the day. Back then, we could play outside all day by ourselves. You enjoyed the warm sunshine and cool house, even living in Texas. Our seasons were milder back then, they followed the usual patterns of spring, summer, fall and winter. The rainy days were a disappointment, but still fun.
I also looked forward to sleepovers and staying up late. I loved to go swimming and riding my bike. Scouting was also a big part of my summer activities. I was in the Boy Scouts and we got to go on a great deal of camping trips and to summer camp. Vacations were also a big part of our summers.
Contrast this to summers as an adult. I hated getting up and going to work on sunshine-filled days. As an adult, I lost my carefree thinking and imagination. I
By Darin Thomas
When I was a young kid, I couldn’t wait ‘til summer came. The summer heat was just right for swimming, flying kites, and so on.
My father would take my siblings and me to the park and lake so we could barbecue, play outside games, and enjoy the summer breeze and each other. There was so much to do in the summer. School was out for a few months, which meant sleeping late and going to bed later at night. We could wear our summer clothes, enjoy the cool air conditioning, eat ice cream, and go to the movies where we would eat candy and popcorn.
We used to go in the backyard and make a playhouse so we could play in it. Sometimes, we put a TV in it and spent the night inside.
Now I’m all grown and I still enjoy the summertime. A good friend of mine and I go fishing on his Bass Tracker boat. We have fun fishing, enjoying the waves and
had to think how hot it was going to be and regulate our thermostat to save as much money as possible.
Today, I think the weather has changed drastically. The average temperature has gone up. Now I couldn’t even enjoy the hot sunshiny days because I was worried about how much money I was going to spend on air conditioning and how uncomfortable the day would feel. I couldn’t wait for summer to be over with. I think global warming played a part with temperature rising. The seasons seemed to run together all topsy-turvy.
Also, nowadays the school schedules have changed. Instead of getting three total months off, school begins in mid-August — at least in Texas. You would have to go to school in the hottest part of the summer, which would be a bummer.
shorter months out of school. I think now, summers are a reflection of time gone by, and how I miss the carefree days of doing anything I wanted on a nice summer day.
To say the least, summer was a great deal better when I was a kid than it is now. I would not have enjoyed the
the water, and the nice heat from the sun. We ride go-carts and go to a restaurant with a patio so we can be in the summer heat while we have a good meal in the middle of the day. As long as I can get some air conditioning after the heat, I’m good.
I like to go outdoors in the summer, have a good time in the heat, get all sweaty, go shower, and then cool off inside under the air conditioning with my lady friend, watching a movie. That’s living life.
I’m incarcerated right now at the Oliver J. Bell Unit, where we have air conditioning. I think I’ll be here until I’m released from prison. I graduated from the “Prison Entrepreneurship Program” here on May 23 and will become a Servant Leader, where I will give back to the fall class of 2025.
Kenneth Henry is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
Meanwhile, I’m enjoying the air conditioning at the Oliver J. Bell Unit and still love and wait for summer to hit. I want to be out of here, out with my family and friends, by 2026. That way, I can spend time with them and have fun. One day soon, I’ll be back out there. I give God all the Glory!
Darin Thomas is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
By Vicki Gies
Over the years of being homeless and living outside in the woods, I’ve been asked by numerous people if I get scared of the wildlife here. My answer for the most part is “No, not scared — just very aware!”
The most important thing I’m aware of are the snakes that are around us! My mother taught me as a child, what not to do when I see snakes. To this day, I have the greatest respect for all snakes, especially the poisonous ones.
The most common poisonous snakes I see in the woods where we live are the copperhead and the water moccasin (sometimes called cottonmouth) snakes. The copperhead has distinct markings on its skin of dark red and gold triangular shapes. You have to be very careful when walking in the woods, because they blend in with the leaves and “hide” under shrubs and bushes. I always look down where I’m walking. Sometimes I hit my head on a low-hanging tree branch but, I’d rather have a branch scratch or scrape than a snakebite! (A quick note: I’ve never been bitten by any snake in my 73 years!) Also, if you come across one of these poisonous snakes lying in your path, do NOT try to move it or hit it with anything; it could be detrimental to your health.
A simple fact: snakes would rather avoid people than attack. Either change your route or back up a few steps and wait for them to leave.
The cottonmouth gets its name from its mouth. It will open its mouth very wide as a warning. The inside of the mouth looks like white “goo” or cotton, hence their name. They are also known as water moccasins, and they are very aggressive. They live near the water. Both snakes are poisonous, but the moccasin is more deadly! One day I was sitting on a rock and heard leaves rustling. I looked over to see two moccasins wrapped together, like a spiraling candy cane. They were about three feet from me, but they didn’t care that I was there. They just kept rolling and spiraling down a hill! I found out later that this was their mating routine.
The other snakes I’ve seen in the woods are a beautiful bright green, which is named a “rough green snake,” a “garter
snake” (it has a light colored stripe from head to tail), and a dark colored water snake, known as a “diamondback water snake,” not to be confused with a diamondback rattlesnake (I haven’t seen one at White Rock Lake). These three previously mentioned snakes are nonpoisonous, but they will bite if annoyed!
I saved the best little creepy crawler for last: not so creepy, just fast moving! A skink is a lizard, but looks like a snake in body shape. It has four little legs at the front of its body, and they slither/run very fast. The only other lizard I’ve seen here is the gecko. They’re fun to play with; they might chase you after you chase them!
The next creepy crawler is a walker of sorts: spiders. There are several species of spiders. The most common ones here at the lake are tree spiders, wolf spiders, and brown recluse spiders — the latter being poisonous. I’ve been bitten by a brown recluse spider, and I’m telling you that it’s the most painful of all spider bites! People have been known to die from a brown recluse bite. I’m thankful that the spider had bitten my ankle bone and not on a vein in my foot. I went to the doctor and got antibiotics. It took almost three weeks before I could wear a regular shoe. My ankle was twice as big as the other one!
The brown recluse also builds its web close to the ground in ivy or low brush. The wolf spider is brown also, but not as aggressive and dangerous as the brown recluse. It looks like it has hair/fur all over its body and legs!
The cutest and funniest spider I’ve ever seen is the little jumping spider. It can walk, but most of the time it jumps. At times I’ve sat outside reading my phone or a book and suddenly two tiny gray feet will come to the top of the book/phone. Then the tiny head looks over at me. It’s like it wants to play “catch me if you can,” jumping down on the page/screen. But when I move my hand towards it, it jumps back! I put my hand back down and here it comes again — same routine. I’m not sure of the significance of this game, but it is fun, and its never bitten me. Call me weird, but it’s just so cute.
The “daddy-longlegs” is a nickname for a harvestmen spider. Very similar to a cellar spider, its body is tiny, but has very long thin legs. Almost all spiders
can bite and a few are poisonous but not the harvestmen. Its mouth is almost microscopic and has no fangs or venom, so it’s harmless to us. The ones I’ve seen and watched stay in the loose bark of trees. My “rule of thumb” is don’t stand in one spot in the woods for very long, because “something else” will come to check you out.
The only other spider I’ve seen is the banana spider. It is about three inches in diameter with black and yellow stripes. It weaves the most unique web! The one that lived close to me wove a web that was approximately two and a half feet in diameter, large enough to catch a variety of insects, including those horrible mosquitoes. So, they’re beneficial in that respect. But don’t get too close; they are poisonous and will “attack” if threatened!
The last creepy crawler in this story is the walking stick, a unique, but strange insect with a thin body and six legs. They can’t fly; they walk! Some people have them as pets, but don’t harass them or try to pick them up by their legs.
Walking sticks have the worst defense mechanism short of a skunk. They emit a kind of spray that will literally take your breath away. It happened to me one night. I was almost asleep when I felt something fall on my head, and it started moving in my hair. I reached up to get it off my head and when I touched it, I immediately started hacking and coughing; my nose and my eyes started burning. I was in excruciating pain! My husband got it off my head and started laughing at me, telling me to get a wet cloth and put on my face. The whole burning ordeal lasted about 30 minutes, but the stench stayed for hours. They camouflage themselves in the leaves, a small stick on the ground, or in a tree. When it comes to having a family, they lay eggs. When the eggs hatch, they carry their young on their backs. It’s really interesting to watch “mom” walk around with the “kid/kids” on her back.
As I’ve said before, I love nature and all of her fascinating creations. I never get tired of observing and learning! This concludes my spring series of Habitats and Habits! I’m getting ready for Summer and finding new and exciting things to learn and write about!
Vicki Gies is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
Editor’s Note: The following essays discuss a misunderstanding about homelessness. This blog post, along with many others, can be found online at www.thestewpot.org/street-level Misunderstood Truth
By Mike McCall
It is well known that eyewitness testimony results in the misidentification of suspects in many cases. A similar effect is seen when you question individuals about their thoughts on homelessness. A driveby judgment is cast upon the homeless community without looking at all the evidence. This misidentification of truth promotes thoughts of laziness and moral failings as the reason one ends up on the streets. From my lived experience and interactions with the homeless population, this couldn’t be further from the truth.
What you see throughout every big city is a rising population of individuals who have become victims of imposed circumstances. The combination of a complex set of events makes notable progress difficult to obtain. This is not a moral failing of a lazy individual. It’s the struggle that individuals face every day as they try to climb a mountain.
The cost of housing, and the available resources to pay for that housing, far exceeds the will of one’s spirit. The only true moral failing here is the stigma associated with the struggle and the
selective blindness that outsiders have adopted to it. Blaming homelessness on the struggling individual is easier than pointing the finger at how society has failed them.
For the same reason we shouldn’t blame a cancer patient for their illness, we as a community shouldn’t attribute a person’s situation as a creation of their own doing and choice. While I don’t deny that some choices in life will put you at risk, I know from experience that it’s not a single straw but many straws that break the camel’s back.
The misunderstood truth of being homeless is that no one cure can silence all the symptoms. Many jobs require a permanent address and reliable transportation. If you add a misdemeanor or felony to your job application, your options are cut dramatically. Throw in the $60-plus it will cost to ride the bus for two weeks before you receive your first paycheck, it’s no wonder this community struggles.
One of the best remedies for challenging the misunderstood truth is a hands-on approach. The best experience is gained through personal interactions. Instead of viewing the problem from a distance, take
a day to volunteer at The Stewpot and meet some of the individuals. This simple act will open your heart, challenge your preconceived notions, and guide you to the truth about our homeless community. This is a community full of wonderful people who have fallen on hard times. These are individuals whose faith and resilience cannot be challenged even as they are forced to possess no more than they can carry. These are people we should consider as family, instead of choosing to look the other way.
I pray the day will come when society greets this community with open arms and warm smiles, and we accept these individuals as our brothers and sisters. And that we replace turning a blind eye with asking how we can help.
Humans have made it this far due to our ability to work together in large groups to accomplish a common goal. Imagine what we could do for the homeless community if we applied this strength to those in need. We are all in this thing called life together, so I think it’s about time we start acting like it.
Mike McCall is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
By Savita Vega
There’s an ‘80s song by Bruce Hornsby and The Range that captures many people’s sentiments today about those experiencing homelessness. The chorus chimes, “A man in a silk suit hurries by/As he catches the poor old lady’s eyes/Just for fun he says, ‘Get a job.’” The basic ideology underlying the comment, of course, is that if she would just get a job, her problems would be solved.
This may well have been the case in 1935 at the height of the Great Depression when my father was born — or even in 1950 following World War II. But today’s economic landscape is very different. According to the United States Interagency Council on Homelessness, as many as 40 to 60 percent of people experiencing homelessness are employed, as was I when I became homeless.
I still remember the timing very well — precisely when I was evicted — because it corresponded with seasonal lows in sales at my work in a retail store and, thus, with a cutback in hours. In December, during the Christmas rush, when my employer needed all the help they could get, I had been working not just fulltime but overtime for weeks
on end. Then came January and the seasonal slump in sales, and suddenly my hours were cut from 45 or 50 per week down to five with no warning.
I just opened the app on my phone with my new work schedule and saw that I was only down for five hours. At the same time, I had rent that was coming due in a couple of weeks. My income had just gone from $2,200 a month or more with overtime to something like $270. I had no idea what I was going to do. I knew that this was not the time of year to be looking for a job. No one in retail would be hiring then. At the same time, my boss was encouraging me to just “hang on,” explaining that this happened every year in their store and assuring me that the hours would go back up soon enough.
So, with what money I had saved from the overtime pay I made during the holidays, I managed to scrape up just enough to cover rent for February and March, which brought me to the end of my lease but also left me completely broke and behind on some of my other bills. In addition, my car had broken down, and I didn’t have the money to fix it, so I was without transportation.
All of this led me to choose the path of re-signing a lease, despite the fact that my rent went up 55 percent, from $937 to
$1,450. First, I didn’t have enough savings left to use for deposits for another apartment. Secondly, what money I had coming in had to go to bills. And having no car, I was very limited in my ability to even go out and search for another apartment. Therefore, although it was against my better judgment, knowing I couldn’t afford it, I signed the lease.
Fortunately, hours did pick up a bit and my employer even began to hire new workers. Through a referral, I got my daughter on, and she began to work there as her first job, which increased our household income somewhat. Still, it just wasn’t enough. The $1,450 in rent along with other household bills was simply too steep for our incomes to cover.
The apartment complex wouldn’t allow for partial payment of rent, and the April rent went unpaid as did May. By June, fortunately, my daughter was away in Savannah staying with her boyfriend who was finishing up the final semester of his master’s degree at Savannah College of Art and Design. I went to court alone and was evicted. By then I was back to working full-time, but it was too late.
Savita Vega is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
Editor’s Note: On May 18th, The Stewpot’s new campus located at 1610 South Malcolm X Blvd Dallas, TX 75226 was commissioned with a First Presbyterian Church of Dallas worship service. All photographs are courtesy of Tim Smith.
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