Walking down Lexington Avenue in the 20s with my teenaged niece, it was in the mid-80’s, a homeless man jumped in front of us and yelled out with a fierce look on his face “HOMELESS!” Not missing a beat, I shouted back “SAGITTARIUS!” He looked bewildered and walked away. My niece thought I was cool.
Some time in the 80’s, if I recall correctly, they changed the commitment laws, folks couldn’t be forced into mental institutions any more, so many were released. I remember the Big Apple when the streets were lined with homeless people, sure not all of them were mentally ill, but plenty were.
Senior year in high school, in the midwest, I volunteered for a summer as a candy striper at the county mental institution — I was put to work with the occupational therapists in the chronic ward.
I read some of the case histories, people who were mentally retarded being put away and after long years they became psychotic as well. One day during the summer they had a fire drill — I got separated from the staff and ended up milling about with the folks from the locked ward — none of them made me feel threatened, on the contrary, being among them I felt as though I were the odd woman out, and perhaps I should start babbling and carrying on as the normal thing to do.