A Place To Rest Your Head

Photographer: Maddie Flavin

"All the things one has forgotten, scream for help in dreams." --Elias Canetti

Sometimes all you need in life is a nice place to rest your head, relax, and take a nap. Most times that nap takes place in the comfort of your own your down comforter bed , your over-sized couch, or even in the backseat of a car on a road trip. Naps are a time to relieve stress, rejuvenate, and dream. In this case, I captured a homeless man asleep in the middle of De Anza Park in Tucson off of Speedway Boulevard, on a beautiful Sunday morning in October. While most of us were possibly just waking up and ready to go to out to breakfast before Football Sunday or were still sleeping in from an eventful weekend and ready for a Sunday full of homework, this man was sleeping in broad daylight with all of his possessions around him. He does not own any down comforter nor pillow, and he uses the comfort of his zip-up jacket and backpack for some warmth and softness for his body to rest in this grassy park, even though it was 80 degree day. He sleeps curled up to protect his possessions of a lunch box and a bottle of root beer from being taken away--just like any home would--although, this man does not have a home; De Anza Park is his home for the day. Although unseen in the photo, this man is not the only person taking a nap in the park, as there are other people scattered amongst the park, with their possessions close by; some have grocery bags filled with random necessities while others just have the clothes on their back and a bag of Lay's chips. While these people sleep in their "home," we can hear the excitement and laughter coming from the beach volleyball courts, or see dogs chasing after frisbees, or even smell the BBQ over by the playground with the sounds of the busy Speedway Blvd. in the background. Little attention is ever paid to the the homeless community sleeping in the middle of the parks, as the park visitors just "let them be" and continue on with their fun-filled Sundays. The homeless people in the park may not have a permanent address, but on this October day they sleep and dream of future opportunities and whether they will have enough food and other necessities to survive through the next day. The nature of a 'home' is extremely flexible, in that it can range from mansions and estates to something minuscule, like this patch of grass. Whatever our notion of 'home' may be, it certainly puts in perspective where our expectations lie when it comes to defining comfort and livability. Would you be able to imagine sacrificing your mattress for an evening's or day's rest on the ground of a public park such as this, with your materials cluttered closely and a piece of clothing for a pillow? Or would we say "let them be?"