Just off of West Broadway Road and South Country Club Drive is Paz de Cristo, a gated complex with scattered groups of people. They are there for similar reasons, looking for the basic necessities: food, clothes, water and hygiene.

Among those people is Byron Paladin, a homeless man who volunteers at Paz de Cristo and St. Vincent de Paul in Mesa. Byron said societal misconceptions about homeless people reinforce the negative treatment they face from others.

Byron said people do not view him as homeless; he doesn’t fit the stereotype of “the lazy, drug-using person living on the streets,” he said.

Byron looks like any other average older man: His facial hair is well-kept, he always sports a backward baseball cap, and his clothes are clean and never wrinkled.

There is no definition of what it means to be homeless or who a homeless person is, he said, and the stigma surrounding the community comes from lack of knowledge and understanding.

To break this, more homeless people must tell their stories and share their experiences — and others have to listen, Byron said.

“That’s where people are gonna start learning that ‘Oh, my God, these are real human lives,’” he said.

These are the stories of people who are homeless and those who work to advocate for them.

Byron

Byron found himself without a home after an eviction notice was pasted on his door.

“I went on vacation, left all my stuff in an apartment, came back, the apartment was emptied,” he said. “So, I spent a couple of months on the streets there.”

Byron, 62, has lived in Arizona, New Mexico and Massachusetts, and during his time in each state, he has learned to expect the unexpected.

“Life is an ongoing process of learning, and to learn, you have to have challenge,” he said. “Don’t be afraid of the challenges no matter how far they are, how strong they are. The hard part is getting people to accept those challenges and say, ‘OK, I can do this. I am worthy.’”

In the over 30 years Byron has been homeless, he has had life-changing opportunities. In 1992, he started “Spare Change News,” a newspaper written and distributed by homeless people, and he has given lectures at Harvard University and Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

But Byron’s life has not always been full of success. He has faced challenges, such as losing his editor position with the paper and witnessing others’ trauma within the homeless community.

But with each of these experiences came about growth.

Byron learned how to adapt to each situation and environment he was in and did so with humility and dignity.

It didn’t matter where Byron was since he would find his way; he knew the way of “the streets” and how to make due with what he had. Byron knows everything happens for a reason and that reason is to help him become a better person in the end.

“You may make a mistake here or there, everybody does,” he said. “But regardless of what happens … I’m here for a reason … Everybody is here for a reason. We all have something to learn.”

The biggest lesson Byron has learned is that no one is immune to homelessness and that we all deserve the chance to share our stories.

Byron continues to live life to the fullest. He surrounds himself with people he loves and does what he can to the best of his abilities.

Kevin

Kevin, 55, said he became homeless due to “choices out of desperation.” It started when his parents separated and he dropped out of school.

He wanted to go to college back in Chicago, where he is originally from, but he felt the need to provide for his mother when his father left the picture.

“The would’ves, could’ves, should’ves can run here,” Kevin explained, tapping his temple with his finger. “I lost my way with that.”

Throughout the years, Kevin leaned on destructive vices. He did not take responsibility for his actions and severed relationships with the ones he cares about the most, including not being a solid and present father for his two daughters.

“I used to blame it on Sagittarius (the zodiac sign),” he said with a chuckle. “It was just something I could lean on, like a coping mechanism.”

It was like a spiral. Kevin said he blamed others — but never himself — for the positions he was in. He likened himself to a racehorse with blinders on.

As time progressed, Kevin had run-ins with law enforcement and eventually was placed in “help rooms” and enrolled in anonymous support groups for substance use.

Kevin received additional support when he was offered a work opportunity through St. Vincent de Paul in Mesa. St. Vincent is another organization that provides food distribution and other services to the homeless and is currently running its services out of Paz de Cristo due to renovation at its own facilities.

“I wasn’t really worthy, I didn’t think I was,” he explained. “But they saw something in (me).”

One of the workers at St. Vincent asked him to wipe the tables after a meal service and the simple phrase, “see you tomorrow,” made him feel cared for.

The communities at St. Vincent and Paz are ones of no judgment, where people can get the support they need.

Kevin’s biggest struggle along this journey has been letting go of his ego and accepting his own faults.

“It took a while for me to realize that,” he said. “There was a point in my life where I thought they were out to get me, not really realizing what I did.”

It’s been a process, but Kevin said he has learned to care for himself through the care of others — from those who helped him with his alcohol usage to those at Paz.

“It doesn’t really hurt to care,” he said. “It’s really simple. The power is still with us, no matter what it is. You don’t have to lose yourself.”

Carol

Carol Reed, 63, said she learned to love and care for people from her mother. This led her to want to work with unsheltered people, looking for that “love of family.”

“I love people and I care for people,” she explained. “I always wonder, ‘look at the big picture.’”

Carol, Paz de Cristo’s empowerment program manager, seeks to learn more about those who come to Paz to find out who they truly are. Carol wants to know about their families and their parents, and she doesn’t see them as just looking for a meal.

She blames the “mother figure” in her, but Carol will do whatever she can to provide for them as if they are her family – she already lovingly refers to them as such.

“These are my children … even though I have my grown family,” she said. “I’ve had to get on a few of them just like I would kids, but they always come back.

The tough love she dishes out is because she sees so much potential in those who come to Paz and St. Vincent. Carol recalled several times when people came to update her on their current situation or seek advice or help.

Just recently, a man came to tell Carol how he found stable housing, employment and was on the right track.

Even though all who come through Paz do not reach this point, people’s successes and growth remind Carol of the important role she plays in helping others.

“Just seeing those things gives me the energy, because one out of 10 is probably going to be a change,” she said.

Carol has learned that listening and talking can be enough to make a difference and provide people a safe space to go deeper and share their stories.

Another thing Carol has learned is that homelessness doesn’t discriminate based on economic status, nationality, education level or background — “It can happen to anybody in a heartbeat.”

Working at Paz is an emotionally challenging job. Just recently, she had to provide a death certificate to a houseless widower. She sometimes has to take days off of work to take time for herself, but Carol continues to come back.

“I’m not Jenny from the Block, I’m Carol from Broadway,” she said.

Anthony

Anthony, 62, has been on the streets for nearly 38 years because his past still impacts him to this day.

“I’ve been in prison so many times that that’s the thing they look at,” he said. “They don’t look at the person behind.”

He tried to look to rent apartments in the past, but none has ever worked out due to his criminal record

Anthony continues to face obstacles, but he seeks to provide for himself, find resources and get help.

“If you want help, you can get it. If you go hungry or (are) out here, it’s because you want to, not because there aren’t places to go,” he explained.

Anthony has been going to services like Paz and St. Vincent for many years, and he decided it was time for him to volunteer. He has struggled to get a job also due to his criminal record, so with the free time he has, Anthony looks to give back within the community.

“It’s just hard for an ex-convict,” he said.

People assume all homeless people are bad, Anthony said, but this is far from the truth, because after all, they’re just human.

It is impossible to pass fair judgment on someone whom you know nothing about, yet people constantly do this for homeless people.

He wishes people would take more interest in getting to learn about homeless people and where they actually come from, rather than judge based on what they see at first glance.

But Anthony believes a “miracle” would have to happen for people to change their mindset and finally see the humanity of homelessness.

If people just listened to and spoke with homeless people, they would learn that there is more to them than just their housing status. People need to learn to accept homeless people for who they are, regardless of their circumstances, and get to know people beyond face value.

“There’s some of us that ain’t got no choice but to do this,” Anthony said.

For more information about Paz de Cristo and St. Vincent de Paul, visit their websites, https://pazdecristo.org/ and https://www.stvincentdepaul.net

From Boston, In Print: How ‘Spare Change News’ Came to Be

Byron Paladin says he has lived a full life and he has done the right thing when the time called for it. One of those things was starting “Spare Change News” in 1992 when he was “on the streets” in Boston. The paper changed his attitude toward life and taught him the importance of storytelling for education.