The homeless standard we walk by

Naomi Fryers discusses the growing gap between the haves and have-nots and how we've got to the stage where we'd happily step over those left behind.

I MET A MAN named Ben this morning in the city, while I was having a vape.

He had been sleeping rough, had no shoes, his feet were bleeding and he was looking for cigarette butts to smoke.

Down on his luck, we had a chat. I told him he wouldn't find any because the street sweepers had just been through. I had a packet in my bag, though, with three left so gave it to him. He had a lot of complex things happening.

The city just whirred around him like his hectic crisis was invisible.

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Australia's political leaders are solely to blame for the number of our population struggling with the cost of living or starving in the streets.

I asked him if his feet were sore. He conceded they were. I didn't ask where his shoes went. I said it looks like you need a new pair of thongs. He told me he had no money. I was like that's fine mate, I have a fiver here go into Coles and grab a pair.

I went to pull it out and that's all I had in my wallet. I don't carry cash usually but I didn't know if I'd need some to top up a Myki. I don't get into the city much and I forget how much technology has evolved.

He saw the contents of my wallet and tried to talk me out of getting the thongs. He told me I'd need it for lunch. I reassured him I didn't but appreciated that in his time of desperate need, he was concerned I may miss a meal some five hours subsequent. Let's be honest, a short fast wouldn't have hurt me even if it was my last fiver for the day. Hehe.

I didn't hold him up or ask anymore. We just shook hands, exchanged names and went about our days: him wandering off down to the station and me venturing down Elizabeth Street.

Ben was only one of about 40 homeless people I saw today. The city just whirred around them all. Their meagre possessions, their pets and their need. I'd be guessing but a number of them seemed to present as though they had chronic, complex mental health issues.

And I thought about the city I was in. And how social services are getting new buildings, steering committees (that talk about policies), running advertisements to seek help — all theories for non-existent practical resources. If Australia had a genuine welfare system, that would include housing support, of which there is none currently available.

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Metres away on Flinders Lane people in suits and tunics grabbed coffee and baguettes off for another day earning honest money from day jobs — a luxury not afforded to Ben.

Tourists took photos of Flinders Street on their journeys — travel a luxury not afforded to Ben.

I had a vape and warm clean clothes on with sensible shoes — other luxuries not afforded to Ben.

And our unmistakably vibrant, proud, gorgeous city whirred on around him like he didn't matter.

The gaps between the haves and the have-nots have not, in my living memory, ever been more translucent. And as a lady lying on the ground nearby screamed out to passers-by she'd fuck them for $50, I felt an unmistakable sense of shame.

Not for her or her offerings. But because all she seemed to own was a dirty blanket and an aura of desperation, literally not even her own teeth — and no one batted an eyelid.

Likewise, Ben didn't own a pair of thongs and everyone around him had become so desensitised they didn't even pause, let alone offer care.

And I thought about beautiful Melbourne — proud, vibrant, bustling and plentiful, and wondered how it got to the stage where we'd happily step over our own on the ground and just leave them behind.

I won't pretend it didn't feel shameful.

This city is so rich in so many ways and so very, very poor in others.