by Carrie Cain (Harley)
My name is Carrie Cain. I’m 32 years old, have three kids that were taken by Social Services, saying that “I’m an unfit mother because of my epilepsy and scoliosis,” have Social Security because of my disabilities, and moved to Denver in 2013 from Iowa. I moved to start over with my boyfriend, in June of last year. He kicked me out in July, one month later, but unlike many I got lucky. The Gutter Punks and Juggalos took me in, taught me how to survive, and kept me safe, warm and fed when I needed it (this is my first time being homeless). They became family. I say that because family protects, loves and is always there...even at its worst.
Most know me as Harlequin or Momma. I’m telling my story because I want to make a difference and also show my love and thanks to all those that are now family. When I became homeless I didn’t know where to go, what to do or how to survive on the streets. A friend introduced me to the Gutter Punks and Juggalos. Yeah they are rough around the edges and may never admit it...but they have big hearts, at least that’s how I see them. But not everybody gets lucky, can survive or keep hope...Too many have died, gotten raped, beat up, lost limbs due to the frostbite, gone to drugs, or have become emotionally dead to the world. Hell, if it weren’t for my husband Wolf and my dog Scottie, and a few of the family...I would be emotionally dead, giving up on life and just a memory.
So many times a day we all are degraded, harassed, glared at or worse...invisible. Shelters are disease-ridden black holes, that kick you out at 5 or 6 am when it’s below 0 degrees out and don’t allow couples. Almost 99% of the places that are supposed to help us, look at us like they wish we were all dead, and the ones that do care can only do so much because they spend their own money just so they can stay open and help.
It’s a double edged sword that slices into my heart. The ones who have nothing will go hungry and cold so that another can eat and be warm. Knowing and seeing, and being able to do this warms my heart. But my experience tells me that 90% of those with money care nothing for those in need. Even a simple hello is too much for them. It rips and tears at my heart realizing how uncaring people can be. I am truly lucky to have my “street family”, husband and dog...but not all are lucky so do us a favor, learn to care like we do. If we don’t take care of each other, who will?
My name is Carrie Cain. I’m 32 years old, have three kids that were taken by Social Services, saying that “I’m an unfit mother because of my epilepsy and scoliosis,” have Social Security because of my disabilities, and moved to Denver in 2013 from Iowa. I moved to start over with my boyfriend, in June of last year. He kicked me out in July, one month later, but unlike many I got lucky. The Gutter Punks and Juggalos took me in, taught me how to survive, and kept me safe, warm and fed when I needed it (this is my first time being homeless). They became family. I say that because family protects, loves and is always there...even at its worst.
Most know me as Harlequin or Momma. I’m telling my story because I want to make a difference and also show my love and thanks to all those that are now family. When I became homeless I didn’t know where to go, what to do or how to survive on the streets. A friend introduced me to the Gutter Punks and Juggalos. Yeah they are rough around the edges and may never admit it...but they have big hearts, at least that’s how I see them. But not everybody gets lucky, can survive or keep hope...Too many have died, gotten raped, beat up, lost limbs due to the frostbite, gone to drugs, or have become emotionally dead to the world. Hell, if it weren’t for my husband Wolf and my dog Scottie, and a few of the family...I would be emotionally dead, giving up on life and just a memory.
So many times a day we all are degraded, harassed, glared at or worse...invisible. Shelters are disease-ridden black holes, that kick you out at 5 or 6 am when it’s below 0 degrees out and don’t allow couples. Almost 99% of the places that are supposed to help us, look at us like they wish we were all dead, and the ones that do care can only do so much because they spend their own money just so they can stay open and help.
It’s a double edged sword that slices into my heart. The ones who have nothing will go hungry and cold so that another can eat and be warm. Knowing and seeing, and being able to do this warms my heart. But my experience tells me that 90% of those with money care nothing for those in need. Even a simple hello is too much for them. It rips and tears at my heart realizing how uncaring people can be. I am truly lucky to have my “street family”, husband and dog...but not all are lucky so do us a favor, learn to care like we do. If we don’t take care of each other, who will?
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