From homeless veteran to FSU student: Three months and one admissions fee later

I never appreciated the fact that I was a pack rat until I had to use my clothes as a mattress. The old sea bag I held onto looked like a giant slug after I’d punched it into the right shape for my back, and the driver’s side door of my tiny 2004 Ford Ranger was just right to prop my heels up as I forced my shoulders into the passenger’s side door as far as the “mattress” would let me. I was pouring sweat, it was summer, and my air conditioner wasn’t repaired as of yet, but it was better than the alternatives.

I suppose it doesn’t need to be said that I’m no role model when it comes to success, but I do know a thing or two about weathering bad situations. I was a homeless veteran, like the posters you see in random buildings or the things you hear about in ads. I thought the idea that this was a normal situation for many people (all over America) was insane, but there I was. My diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder resulted in my nearby family being terrified of allowing me to live with them, after reading so many horror stories about individuals having violent outbursts. I didn’t have a support system. I didn’t have income beyond my disability stipend, but I did have some time left on my G.I. Bill.

The staff at FSU Panama City didn’t act terrified of me. They were kind to me, even when I walked in pouring sweat and looking worse than those old scenes from Wild West movies (you know, where the cowboy returns from being stranded in the desert and walks up to his first building in town). The VA department guided me through the process of registering, and by orientation day in late August, I had already been linked to resources that were helping me find clothes, food, and ways around the established policies that actually make it harder to “pull yourself up by your boot straps.”

There were little lessons I learned, such as putting aside $10 to $15 for a gym membership guarantees you a place that you can shower anytime. Another helpful tip is that laws prevent you from sleeping in your vehicle overnight in most areas, and nearly every police officer who checks on you will be determined to give you a breathalyzer. However, Panama City has RV parks and campgrounds where you don’t have to worry about the typical ordeals you may be subjected to when testing out 90 percent of your options.

Life is still chaotic, as I sprint to surpass the obstacles I’ve dealt with all summer, but I find it funny that the title of this article was my path to salvation; rather than a social work program or some other solution that people might expect. College really can empower you.

— Johnathon Alleman

contributing writer