Edward the Crazy Man is a storybook my brother gifted to my daughter when she was in middle school. It tells the story of a man who is homeless and struggling with mental health issues. While the story I want to share today isn’t entirely the same, it reminds me of Edward’s narrative. If you can find a copy of the book, I recommend reading it to understand Edward’s journey. It is one that I think is often misunderstood and overlooked.
This brings me to my story— a personal one.
The Importance of Empathy
I was fortunate to be raised by two parents, but they were very different in their thinking. My father, in my opinion, lacked empathy, while my mother had enough to make up the difference for both of them. My mother taught me something I’ve never forgotten: “You don’t want someone’s sympathy; you want their empathy.” Sympathy, she explained, is pity, and no one wants to be pitied. Empathy, on the other hand, is the understanding of someone’s journey. It’s a much harder path to choose because often it includes the examination of one’s self in the process.
This belief shaped the expectations I wanted for myself as well as my view of helping others. Therefore, I don’t believe in handouts but in hand-ups which is the offering opportunities instead of temporary fixes. And even so, with this mindset, life’s complexities and heartbreaks often defy simple solutions.
Introduce John
Almost ten years ago, I met John, a teenager at the school where I worked at the time. He didn’t stand out in any particular way, just another face in the crowd. Nice enough kid. Over time, he befriended one of my children, and I began to know him better.
John was polite, quiet, and seemed content—at least at first glance. But, as I later realized, just like Hansel and Gretel who had been droppping breadcrumbs in the forest to find their way home, John had been dropping his own breadcrumbs, small signs of struggle that I missed entirely.
But recently, John reached a breaking point. After years of struggling with family issues, mental health, and isolation, he found himself homeless. I thought who is guiding John, who is helping him? How does someone know something or where to start especially as a young person trying to navigate the system of health care or anything for that matter. How we connected he that he knew I often drove to the city for work and he was looking for a ride to get to a men’s shelter there. Of course I was going so I offered him a ride but I wasn’t prepared for what would happen that day.
The drive to the shelter was filled with mixed emotions. John, calm and resolved, told me he knew he needed help. Years of trauma had weighed on his mental health and had never been resolved. I couldn’t help but think what if I was his parent? What would I have done to support John? I say this because his parents no longer had any contact with him, both for different reasons I cannot explain here just know some I didn’t agree with. Yet I found myself trying to empathize with the situation- on both sides. Regardless, we kept making miIes and the drop off was getting closer. I felt a sense of dread. I was no longer prepared.
When we finally arrived, the scene outside the shelter broke me—dozens of men huddled in the cold, many wearing black coats, their faces etched with hardship. It felt like the opening of a dystopian movie.
As John prepared to leave, I asked if he had gloves. He didn’t. My partner handed him a spare pair from the truck. We hugged him tightly, tears streaming down our faces. John, stoic as ever, walked toward the shelter without looking back. He was braver than I was.
In that moment, I felt like I was feeding him to the wolves. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
John’s story reminds me of Edward from Edward the Crazy Man. Like Edward, John’s struggles are deeply intertwined with mental health and the lack of a support system. Society often labels people like them as “crazy” or “lost causes,” failing to see their bravery and resilience.
But John is trying. Despite his circumstances, he’s taking steps toward a better future. He’s reached out for help, found temporary shelter, and even explored the city library, finding joy in what he can. But dropping John off at the shelter was a rude awakening for me. It highlighted the stark realities of homelessness, the gaps in our societal support systems, and the emotional toll of witnessing someone you care about endure such hardship.
To parents and caregivers of children struggling with mental health, addiction, or other challenges, I am sorry. I empathize with your journey and your endless fight to support your loved ones. Thank you for showing up, for trying, and for caring. I can only imagine how hard it is and I respect you for trying.
As for John, his journey is far from over. I don’t know what the future holds for him, but I do know this: he is brave, and he is trying. That’s more than enough reason to hope.
Let’s not forget the Edwards and Johns in our world. They remind us of the importance of empathy—of truly seeing and supporting those who are struggling.