I had a teacher in primary school – Mr. Donovan – who taught me in 2nd class, 3rd class and 5th class. One of those years he taught my class the words and tune of a song called The Streets of London, and I’ve never forgotten it. The words came into my head as I wandered around Dublin city centre last week with a team of three people who give up their Thursday evenings every single week for the most charitable of causes. They are part of a wider group of people – the Dublin Simon Community Soup Run team – who ensure that every single night of the week, 365 days a year, rain or shine, sun or snow, the homeless people on the streets of Dublin are offered soup, a sandwich, a cup of tea, a bar of chocolate, and a pair of socks. They allowed me to accompany them on the soup run last Thursday, and it was an eye-opening experience.
The chorus of The Streets of London goes as follows:
It was an appropriate soundtrack buzzing around my head as we walked from a premises on the north side of the river Liffey where the bags of sandwiches and flasks of soup and tea are packed, across the Liffey and along Dame Street, George’s Street, St. Stephen’s Green, Dawson Street, Kildare Street and Grafton Street. Another team of three were covering a different area of the city, and on many nights a third team would be out too.
I was there to photograph the run, and if possible to photograph some of the homeless people we met, all with a view to getting some images that Dublin Simon Community can use to raise awareness of their services and, ultimately, to raise money. It was all part of the ongoing project that has been the subject of my previous two posts.
The rules outlined in my last post applied here – no one would be photographed without their consent, and their images would only be used under the terms of the consent forms that they signed. Which means that I can’t show you many photos. To be honest I didn’t have high hopes that anyone would consent when we set out on the soup run but things went better than I expected – six people consented to being photographed, and four of them allowed me to take a close-up portrait.
I did set myself and the team a rule as we started the walk. The team, who approach any homeless person they see as they walk their route, would ask if that person would mind having their photograph taken for Dublin Simon Community, but only after giving them any tea, soup, sandwiches or chocolate. Under no circumstances did I want to create the impression that the provision of food was somehow dependent on the consent to be photographed, so the photograph was only ever mentioned almost as an after thought, and I kept my camera in my pocket until consent was given. If consent wasn’t given, the camera stayed in my pocket.
Speaking of the camera, I used the Fuji X100 for this task, and it was perfect for it – it was easily pocketed, and it wasn’t intrusive, but with an f/2 35mm lens allowed me deal with the rapidly falling light levels and photograph the surroundings as well as some closer portraits.
While the bags were being packed back at base before we started the run, I noticed the Dublin Simon Community Charter of Rights and Responsibilities hanging on the wall. The first item read as follows:
Respect and dignity were two words that came to mind as I watched the volunteers engage with the different members of the homeless community who we met on the streets – some they knew, and engaged in conversation with for 5 or 10 minutes, others they may not have known, but that made no difference to how they were treated. I was particularly struck by one man we met, who asked if we had any sleeping bags, because he had no sleeping bag. The soup run team immediately phoned the Rough Sleeper Team to find him a bed for that night and, with a bed secured, directed him to where a bus would pick him up later to take him to it.
As I drove home that night it struck me that many people today, including perhaps some who are reading this, have financial worries, or health problems, or fears about their jobs. But it’s hard to think of a worse situation to be in than living on the streets, probably not in good health, most likely with no family to speak of, and dependent on the goodwill of a group of strangers to come around every night with a sandwich and a cup of tea, perhaps a fresh pair of socks and occasionally, if you’re lucky, a bed for you to sleep in.
The Dublin Simon Community accept donations big and small to help them provide support and services to over two and a half thousand people every year. If you have a few euro to spare I can promise, after spending time with them over the last three weeks visiting some of those services, that a donation would be most welcome, and would help the best of good causes. For other ways to contribute, check out the Dublin Simon Community website at http://www.dubsimon.ie
Recent Comments