‘In their words’: Utahns with housing insecurity tell their own stories in new exhibition

A woman who goes by the name Alabama said many people view the unhoused merely as junkies, dangerous and messy — but, she added, their stories reveal the heartbreaks, tragedies and realities that make clear they are not unlike those passing by on the streets and living in nearby homes.

Alabama’s story is one of 17 that Amplify Utah community photographers Stephen Speckman and Kelly Hannah have collected by visiting parks, public plazas and other gathering spaces across Salt Lake City, building relationships with people experiencing housing insecurity and allowing them to share their stories on their own terms.

Those stories, and photos of those telling them, make up “In Their Words,” an exhibition opening this week at the Salt Lake City Library’s main branch, 210 E. 400 South, in the Lower Urban Room. There’s a launch event Wednesday, 5-7 p.m. The exhibition runs through July 19.

Here are three of those stories – from Alabama, Benjamin and Paul — that challenge the stereotypes of homelessness and present human narratives that extend beyond the storytellers’ housing status. (For more information and to see all of the portraits and stories, visit amplifyutah.org/in-their-words.)

‘Not just a stereotype’

Alabama, 49

We moved from our home in Colorado. It was a casino town, and COVID shut down all the casinos. So, everyone in town was pretty much out of a job all of a sudden. I’ve worked construction most of my life, but I can’t do heavy lifting and stuff because I’ve got bad rotator cuffs in my shoulders, and I have several mental health issues that make it really hard for me to hold down a job.

Last year there was this collective, and I met and lived with a lot of artists who helped me get in touch with my creative side. My mom was a really creative artist also. And, so, that’s when I decided what I wanted to do going into my future — create a podcast of just me talking about some of the art I come up with. I try out a lot of experiments and stuff, and I just have a lot of interesting stories to tell from it. I’ve lived a colorful life. Clothing and jewelry are my biggest stuff. I like to upcycle things, take things that have been discarded or are second hand and turn them into new things, turn them into something more fun.

I do a lot of trading and bartering, so I don’t deal with much cash. And I do get food stamps, but that’s pretty much it. I like to go around neighborhoods where people put stuff out on the curbs. I find a lot of things that either need fixing or rebuilding that are still in good condition and then bring them out here and sell them.

There’s a wide variety of people here. I talk to all of them because I don’t judge, and I’m an advocate for them. A lot of these people that do drugs out here didn’t start off that way. Sometimes, being homeless is so much pressure on people that they end up doing drugs. They’re my family, all these people out here. I care about all of them. They have my back if I need some help.

I’m not ashamed of who I am. I want people to see who I really am, that I’m not just a stereotype, that I’m not going to leave a trashy mess. I’m not strung out on drugs. I’m not going to steal from them. If they look at me and get to know me a little bit, they’ll probably like me.

— Photograph and story documented by Stephen Speckman.

‘Yeah, he’s a good dude’

Benjamin, 32

Nathan, he’s a good friend of mine [who I met doing street tai chi]. We’ve known each other, I think, going on about nine years. Back then, I didn’t really talk much. I was kind of like teaching myself and minding my own business. I was walking around, talking to myself, and one guy says, ‘Hey, Benjamin, have you ever tried talking to anyone?’ I was like, ‘Why?’ He’s like, ‘because I’ve listened to what you’re saying, and it makes a whole lot of sense.’ So, after that, I kind of started opening up, started talking and making more friends.

But, Nathan, yeah, he’s a good dude. We clicked. We started hanging out. I mean, we’re very straight forward – we don’t bulls–t. I think it was just that we have a lot in common, a lot of similarities, same personality kind of thing. … He talks about things I don’t even know about. I mean, it’s both ways. You learn from each other. Yeah. He understands what I’ve been through. [and] he helps me out with how to deal with things and perspectives and kind of turns my mentality around, makes me focus.

I mean, we’re always at each other’s neck, bickering and fighting. Sometimes we get pissed off at each other. Sometimes it goes too far. But I think he’s a really good friend. I’ve been in a relationship class, and there’s these certain categories – like best friends, close friends. And I came up to Nathan, like, ‘you know what category friend we fall under?’ So, we’re still good. Okay, close. We’re good friends.

For me, it’s that I’ve always moved around, even in Salt Lake, this place and that place. So, it’s hard to kind of connect with people. It’s hard to relate to people, the people who don’t judge you, people who see who you are. I think now as I’m getting older, a little more mature, it’s easier to make friends. I used to keep people at a distance and push people away. So, I think having friends in my life, it’s changed me.

— Photograph and story documented by Stephen Speckman.

Paul’s poem: ‘We will ride free’

Paul, 61

In the wind, we will ride free as an eagle with nothing to hide. People don’t like us because they can’t see what it’s like to really be free. With the wind in our face, I twist the throttle. Wide open is our pace, freedom is our motto. As the V-twins pound, you squeeze tight, love, I have found everything’s alright. One percent of the people you know have made it in life, inside of them it does show that it’s worth all the strife. Hearing only one sound, with just you, the V-twins pound, taking away the blues. Rounding that bend we see the reaper, but we ride right past for he’s not our keeper.

How does that sound? We go through life and, you know, somebody hangs on tight, you know, feels good, you hear only one sound when you’re with that person. But, you know, we all round a bend, we all, you know, come across things in that moment going through that bend in life no matter what it is, you know, no matter what your status is, or where you live or how much money you got. Everybody comes to a curve in the road sometime or other, or many times, right? You know, and when we round that bend we can see, downfall, or that we won’t make it, or all that negativity, or we could see, you know, death depending, if you’re on a bike and you’re doin’ a hundred miles an hour on a 60 mile an hour curve, pretty scary. But you can also look right past it because you know, you don’t let that s--- get to you.

I’ve been out here about 10 years. … I did a lot of different things. When I had kids, I told [them] “I’m not gonna be on ya to get straight A’s, but I want you to try to get straight A’s.” [And] don’t do drugs, and if you’re gonna do ‘em wait ‘til after school, ... save your brain for as long as you can. Try to get the best you can in school, and don’t lie. Can’t stand a liar and a thief. A thief, you know what a thief is going to do, especially a professional thief … But a liar? You never know what a liar’s gonna do. … So it’s all I ever asked my kids: don’t do drugs, try to do your best in school, and don’t lie.

— Photograph and story documented by Kelly Hannah.

A note to readers • This story is published as part of a new collaborative including nonprofits Amplify Utah and The Salt Lake Tribune.