Scaffolding is Home to the Homeless of New York
His street alias is Eman. You’d think he’s homeless, but he carries a home in his heart. Humble feet on sandals under cuffed green khaki pants, irregularly buttoned-down shirt, and a long white beard reaching down to his chest.
A lover of etymology, his sayings are poetic. “Personality is per- and -sonal, period and gold”. He’ll dissect common words through the lens of Punjabi, matching words you’d never connect, weaving meaning out of thin air. He has lived next to a church for the past few months, finding garrison between limestone walls and the scaffolding installed over the sidewalk, the kind you see all over the city.
People see scaffolding as a plague on the city’s walkways. Instituted by Local Law 10 of 1980 in response to a tragic fatality, scaffolding transformed New York’s urban space, shading otherwise bright streets and limiting views of the city’s architecture. What is not visible is just how valuable scaffolding is for the city’s most vulnerable, those without the fortune of shelter. Unintended, the law might well be one of the city’s most consequential to the quality of life of the homeless.
As workers removed the structures dressing the sidewalks around the church, Eman started collecting his things. “It’s hard to find a peaceful place in New York”. He didn’t seem troubled, surely only a new cycle in his endless errand around this place of wonder and misery, City of New York.
✎ Connection to
Key / The Prevention of Misery and Tragedy