Vagabond sparks fly through the gathering dark, brilliant yellow on deep violet, and I know the coals will be hot enough to cook on in 20 minutes. Everything else is ready; this is my chance to steal some time to write. Today, I have been thinking about hobos. I had a conversation with friends last night about the resurgence in popularity that this term has enjoyed over the last few years. It is the name of choice among middle schoolers for anyone who appears to be living on the streets.
I remember when I first heard a student use the word five or six years ago. It made all the other kids laugh as if he had said something naughty, and it caught me by surprise, probably because I hadn't heard it since I was in middle school myself. Then, "hobo" was a choice Halloween get-up, requiring not much more than a pair of torn pants, one of your dad's old jackets, and a burnt cork rubbed liberally around your face. If you wanted to go all out, you could tuck a pillow in your over-sized shirt and smash a battered hat on you head, but those were totally optional. And what of that bandanna on a stick? It was widely agreed that the hobo bag, while a nice touch, made it much harder to carry your trick-or-treat bag, (and after all, we were there for the candy) so most of those were left at home.
No doubt I scolded that child back then, probably more because of the way his peers reacted than anything else, but the term also seemed inappropriate to me. Over the years, its shock value has declined, and it's use is not much of an issue anymore, other than the fact that it's what kids usually say when referring to vagrants, and sadly, I'm pretty sure it's the people and not the name that they laugh at, but that's another blog post.
Last night, my friends and I decided that hobo was too romantic a word to describe the situation of the folks around here who are homeless and on the street, and so not entirely accurate. Turns out that we were right. In the limited research I did today, I found that "hobo" refers specifically to people who choose to travel, usually by rail, and then look for work where ever they might land. There are rules for being a hobo, and they even have an annual convention, I kid you not. Hobos do not appreciate being confused with tramps (who travel but do not work) or bums (who neither travel nor work), and unlike most of the people my students refer to, hobos are not necessarily down on their luck.
I think there's a lesson there.
I saw something about the hobos of today on 20/20 sometime ago. There is a convention, as you mentioned, and even a crowning of Hobo King and Queen. I wonder how they feel about the term vagabond.
ReplyDeleteI am so glad to know this! Our romanticized vision of a hobo was grounded in fact. Nice use of vagabond, by the way.
ReplyDeleteI agree that kids use it indiscriminately about homelessness, but at my school, it's gone past that.
ReplyDeleteA few of my kids started using the word hobo to insult each other. I was surprised, because it seemed kind of random. I thought about it, decided they were doing it because I won't let them use the word homo (which had briefly been in vogue till I shut that right down) and was only one letter different, shared my theory with them, and knew by their expressions that I was correct. And now the word hobo is not allowed in my class.