A few weeks ago, the Challenge cohort spent our Friday in the Detroit Institute of the Arts (DIA). We spent an hour of the morning sketching in a room full of paintings and sculptures. I was particularly drawn to a sculpture of a woman whose face was full of longing. Throughout the hour I noticed less of the room around me and was drawn further and further into the details of the sculpture. How could this be possible, I wondered, that I am finding new details after gazing at the same object for an extended period of time? The tracing of a kneecap under a dress. A curved pinky finger. A basket tipped over behind her. How many more things might I find had my eye traced over this sculpture for a longer period of time?

To capture someone’s gaze, I think, is a profound gift. A treasured moment – especially in the Internet age of scrolling. To inspire someone’s eyes into lingering, this is the room of vulnerability that Art beckons us into.

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I’ve been going to school and working in Northwest Detroit for 6 years. I didn’t feel like I was a part of the community until a young man recognized me, smiled and waved when we walked past each other on the sidewalk this past summer. It was a warm, sunny day and it was the most joyful moment of the year for me.

He usually sat on the intersection of Livernois and Six Mile in the same, layered outfit. I would give him food, water or socks when I had them, ask him his name, and how he was doing. With 16,000 people counted as homeless (according to HAND’s 2015 report) in the Detroit, Hamtramck and Highland Park area, you don’t always know the mental plane people are on. Would he remember my face or my name? It didn’t really matter, but I still wasn’t sure.

It’s easy to get overwhelmed by the vastness of homelessness. There’s so much I don’t understand or don’t have the resources to help solve. But as one person, I can do something. I can help remind someone that they have dignity and they deserve to live, to thrive. Isn’t that what we all long for? To be seen by another person and affirmed that our life is important? It’s a vulnerable thing to smile at a stranger. It’s a vulnerable thing to look in their eyes for more than a moment.

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Architect Sam Mockbee famously said that architecture should be warm, dry, and noble. If architecture is an extension of ourselves, then this is a simple reminder of what we all deserve. Warmth is indeed a massive privilege. It’s dignifying.

Wim Hof, the Dutch daredevil, says that cold is the window to the soul. How paradoxical to Sam Mockbee’s statement! Although Hof’s statement sounds crazy, when I see homeless people out in the winter I think, yes, seeing our brothers and sisters on the street in the winter is indeed a window to our collective soul. The harshness of winter is an honest teacher.

If Detroit really is a city of design, then shouldn’t we be looking at every corner of our city with the eyes of an artist? Gazing, letting our eyes linger to find details we wouldn’t normally see during our daily routine – like in the uncomfortable, the margins, the forgotten, the vulnerable?

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To read more about homelessness:
Go here.
Or here!

Or google your heart out.

Other quick tips:
-Keep water, snacks, and socks in your car or bag to offer
-Ask their name, ask how they are, offer a kind wish
-Call one of these numbers if you see people outside in the extreme cold: 1-800-274-3583 and 1-800-343-4427