The Pioneer Park Basketball League

There’s this guy on Twitter who keeps posting about Pioneer Park’s homeless population in a really low-brow way. He stops to take photos of what he sees as “conflicting” images, then uses them to argue against the $20 million upgrade to the park, which is slated for completion by the end of this year. One of his recent posts shows a homeless person with a necrotic arm passed out near the tennis courts while children play nearby. He uses that photo to claim the park improvements will only benefit the people who already “loiter” there between 10 a.m. and 8 p.m.

He fails to mention that shelters have curfews. People leave the park not because they’re done "loitering" — but because they know they’ll lose their bed and meal if they don’t check in on time.

Now that I’m living near the park and connected not just by proximity but by community, I find those blind takes misguided.

For the past few weeks, around 6 p.m., I’ve walked over to the basketball courts. Yes, the ones surrounded by drug users and schizophrenic yellers who scare everyone off. I shoot around for hours. And I invite the same people in those Twitter photos to play with me.

The court itself is in terrible shape. The concrete has craters that could break your ankles. The rims are crooked. The air smells fine sometimes, but every now and then, you catch a sharp hit of burning plastic. People come up to me asking for cigarettes, cash, or to use my phone. It’s not the most peaceful place to burn calories and catch some vitamin D, but it’s become part of my routine.

And I’m probably the only one out there giving them real, human interaction. I’m not volunteering through a religious nonprofit. I’m not a cop patrolling the area. I’m just a guy with a $2 thrift-store basketball and a peeling grip.

When someone asks to use my phone, I’ll tell them they have to shoot for it. That usually gets a smile. At least once a week, I round up enough people for a proper 2-on-2 game to 11. It takes forever — we’re all bad shooters — but it’s not about the game. It’s about giving them something that maybe they haven’t felt in a long time: humanity. Equality. A break.

A lot of them are kids or young adults. I don’t ask their stories unless they bring them up. I don’t pry. On the court, we’re just people. And I like to think they feel that too.

The guy on Twitter doesn’t have a problem with Pioneer Park. He has a problem with systemic poverty. With addiction. With mental illness. With the way our city avoids confronting any of it. 

There are about ten shelters around the Rio Grande area. None are run by the LDS Church or the city. Most are run by Christian or Catholic organizations, or by private foundations named after someone’s last name. Some offer case management. Some just offer a bed and food. Sometimes clothing when it gets cold.

Yes, downtown is much cleaner than it was five years ago. Businesses are finally starting to see the park as an asset instead of a liability. But these people — people who are chronically unhoused, addicted, struggling — are still here. And they’re still being ignored.

Most of them are just waiting out the clock until their shelter opens again. They have nowhere else to go. They’ll always be misunderstood, because most people can’t even imagine ending up in that position. But they have mental health issues. Physical injuries. No family. A long list of things that would break most of us, and yet they’re still trying to survive.

It’s not fair to judge the quality of a city based on how visible the homeless population is. The real issue isn’t that you can see them. The issue is that you do see them, and still do nothing.

Pioneer Park is just two blocks away from the Delta Center, surrounded by flashy development for sports fans and the wealthy. A $20 million facelift is great for a public amenity, but it won’t fix what this guy — and the rest of the city — thinks is a problem. Because it’s not a problem you fix with money. It’s a mindset.

Utah has an anti-safety-net mentality. It’s this quiet belief: If we don’t give them services, maybe they’ll just go away.

But the truth is, with the way the world’s headed, this population is only going to grow.