Every day near my home, I walk past many houseless people sleeping on the beaches, curled up on sidewalks, or claiming space at the bus station. Their belongings are piled in shopping carts or trash bags; their faces are weathered by sun, struggle and something deeper. This scene has played out for decades in our islands, just as it does in cities across the mainland. In one of the richest places on Earth, we have grown numb to it. We glance, feel a quick stab of pity, a flash of anger, or — too often — nothing at all.
Column: Homeless solution starts with compassion, accountability
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