There are people, like you and I, who have gone years without having anyone call them by their name. A poverty.

They are passed over, chosen over, looked over, forgotten. And over time, their identity slowly erodes, forgetting who they are.

Sometimes we find them sitting on the dirty concrete sidewalk with their shrivelled hands out, asking for change. They may smell foul, and be unkept. We scoff or don’t even see them. A poverty.

Sometimes, it’s that name in our address book that we have not called or seen in too long. Or the smiley kid from school who was so nice to everyone but seemed to have disappeared after graduation.  A poverty.

Sometimes, it’s that high achieving, high performing individual who’s always hustling, but has no one around who isn’t seeking to benefit from their success. No one to share their success. A poverty.

You see, all of us are poor in one way or another. And most of us are realistically not heroic. But each of us can perform mundane tasks like looking into the eyes of that person on the street and silently nodding, acknowledging their existence, or checking up on those who seemed to have slipped away. Say their name. That’s how we relieve poverty, how we slowly lift someone out of their poverty,