In a modest, shaded spot adjacent to our free clinic in Miami, a gathering of ten forms, a mosaic of varied backgrounds united by common experiences. The humid air envelops us, stagnant and warm, while clothing varies from tattered and faded to stylish and neat. For some, personal hygiene is a low priority; showers are a luxury seldom enjoyed, weeks apart. Nevertheless, they persist, arriving in this space, presenting their authentic, unfiltered selves. These individuals, navigating urban streets, endure the stark reality of sleeping on unforgiving concrete—a society frequently oblivious to their presence.
As a fourth-year medical student immersed in street medicine, I partake in meaningful sessions biweekly. These are not traditional therapy sessions. There is no paperwork or diagnosis, nor a race for billable hours. They are merely stories—of struggle, resilience, solidarity, substance issues, betrayal, and a glimmer of hope. As a budding physician specializing in psychiatry, I am uncovering the deep healing potential embedded in genuine human connection.
A touching moment emerged in one such session when a man shared the loss of three friends in one year: an opioid overdose took one, suicide another, and an untreated foot infection claimed the last. Grief, tangible in his voice, lingered as he spoke. He sought not to be ‘fixed’ but for his narrative to hold significance. We honored this, enveloping him in silence and collective strength. The woman next to him, understanding in her gaze, gently placed her hand on his shoulder, a silent affirmation of unity.
Amidst the solemnity, joy is woven in. One regular participant, weighed down by years of unemployment and rejections, showed up one day radiating joy—“I got the job!” he shouted, recently hired as a cashier at Winn-Dixie. His success was celebrated as our own, a shared embrace of triumph over adversity.
These assemblies reveal a kind of healing that surpasses prescriptions. Witnessing both sorrow and joy transforms—ten individuals opting to listen rather than ignore.
However, listening carries significance beyond these encounters. Many I engage with have faced cycles of incarceration, psychiatric hospitalization, or ICE detention, carrying not just trauma but a societal label of ‘unwanted.’ Labeled ‘noncompliant’ for missing appointments or declining treatment, their decisions often stem from necessity—safeguarding belongings or remaining alert against threats rather than opting for sedation.
Street medicine demonstrates a revolutionary psychiatric paradigm: creating a refuge for those told they belong nowhere. Hospitals impose order through schedules, documentation, and lines. Here, we heal collectively, face-to-face, in shared narratives, generously exchanging care amongst ourselves.
Alina Kang, currently in her fourth year of medical training at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine, aims to specialize in psychiatry. Originating from Tokyo and raised in California’s Bay Area, she holds a B.S. in general biology with a cognitive science minor from the University of California, San Diego, and has made significant contributions to community service. Through Miami Street Medicine, Doctors Without Borders, and Miller’s Disability Alliance, Kang has advocated for accessible healthcare for marginalized groups. Her interests outside of medicine include musical endeavors at the piano, the peace of yoga, and the thrill of scallop diving in Crystal River.