Paideia students walk in homeless' shoes

"That is the single most important lesson I'd like to see them learn," said Elizabeth Hearn, the teacher who envisioned homelessness as a course of study. They are all about to embark on the second day of her five-day class "Experiment in Living."

Although some argue such attempts at social engineering may seem artificial, Hearn believes that teaching empathy can be the single most enriching lesson of a student's life.

For years, Paideia teachers have used the last three weeks of school to expose their students to everything from bowling to movies. Hearn wanted to get her students off campus and throw them into an experience beyond their comfort zone. This is the fourth year she has introduced them to homelessness. Aryelle is taking "Experiments in Living" for the third time.

"I was afraid of the homeless," Cormier said. "I avoided eye contact with them and I knew that wasn't the way to treat people. So when this opportunity availed itself, I took advantage of it."

Cormier said she has walked away from the simulation more grateful for her life, and especially for deodorant, toothpaste and indoor plumming.

This is the first time around for eight-graders Ema Smithson, Rhiannon Stone-Miller, Amanda Rubin, Lucy Coxe, Irfan Fazal, Ifeanyi Williams and eight others, all of whom expressed similar reasons for wanting to participate.

"I wanted to see how I'd cope," said Ifeanyi.

Many said they felt guilty about having grown up in middle and upper-middle class homes that afforded them so many opportunities. They also felt a second round of guilt for "intruding on the lives" of the homeless.

The comfort zone has been breached. En route to Trinity House Wednesday morning, Irfan and Ifeanyi wonder out loud about who won the Caviliers game the night before. Some lament having to leave their iPhones, having to live off just $5, having to walk everywhere.

At 8:10 a.m., they are greeted at the door of Trinity House by Ali Clyde Wilson, a former homeless drug addict, and ushered into a chapel, where they sit at tables instead of in pews. Trinity House is a transitional center for formerly homeless men once addicted to drugs, men like Wilson.

"How y'all doing?" Wilson asked

"OK", they mumbled.

"Imagine being on the street for 30 years," Wilson said laughing before launching into a candid talk about his and Trinity's history.

He cites drugs as the reason for many of the problems the homeless face.

Dr. Kaney Fedovskiy, medical director of community outreach services at Grady Hospital, said drugs pose a problem that mental illness only exacerbates.

Of an estimated 3.5 million homeless in the country, Fedovskiy said 58 percent report abusing drugs; 57 percent suffer from mental illness.

Georgia, she said, has the 10th largest mentally ill population in the country and inner-city Atlanta has the largest population and highest density of non-institutionalized individuals with mental illness.

At 10:50, after a quick bathroom run and then a snack of peanut butter and Ramen noodles right out of the pack, the students head to the Metro Atlanta Task Force for the Homeless at Peachtree and Pine Streets.

They will serve the sack lunches they prepared the night before to the more than 350 homeless men waiting in a dark hall, then move on to Central Park about a mile away to hand out what's left.

With all the sacks distributed, they retire to a grassy knoll for their own lunch and talk about what the experience was like for them.

"I wanted to cry," said Amanda.

"I was kinda nervous in the beginning," said Ema.

"I started to see them as individuals, rather than a group of just homeless people," said Rhiannon.

After a little shut-eye under the afternoon sun — Irfan and Ifeanyi slipped off to shoot a few hoops at a nearby basketball court — the class heads for Grady Hospital, where they are scheduled to meet with the founders of the City of Refuge, a non-profit that helps homeless families and individuals reclaim their lives. It has been a full day.

Returning to the preschool playground, they help themselves to more peanut butter, dry Ramen and cold soup from the can. Hearn gives Lucy props for having introduced them to raw corn. They talk about what was ahead and wait to hear from Protip Biswas, executive director of United Way Atlanta's Regional Commission on Homelessness, who would thank them "for being on this journey."

"The empathy piece is important for all of us," said Biswas. "These students will become better citizens because when you're made aware of an issue, you act on it."

Then he heard from them about the experience at Peachtree-Pine, about the drug deals they witnessed in a nearby parking lot, about the sadness they felt for "all these people . . . in this disgusting place."

Around 8:30 p.m., the conversation winds down and the students begin staking claims to sleeping space. In no time, it is daybreak.

"Guys, we need to start to get up," Hearn says.

It 6:30 a.m. Today, they will work. They will take a bus to the Atlanta Community Food Bank before heading to the City of Refuge. Before the day ends, they will have walked seven more miles in someone else's worn shoes. School will never be the same.