I took these pictures one of the many nights I walked home. I never owned a vehicle when I lived in the Coachella Valley area, for the most part I took the SunLine bus to and from work. I lived in Desert Hot Springs off of Pierson Blvd and worked in Palm Springs. So i would take the bus to work and had to walk 5 hours in the middle of the night back home. There were no buses running that late and never had enough money to get a taxi or Uber. My shift ended at 10pm and the last bus around the corner would leave at 10:05pm. I couldn't just clock out at 10pm and leave. I was the only cook/cashier, that meant starting the closing, cleaning, washing dishes, counting down the drawer, and occasionally the lady at the front desk would make me wait for late check-ins in case the guests wanted to order food. So by the time I finished it would be around 11:00 pm, the last bus was long gone.. I didn't get home till 4:00am in the morning. That was every night. My coworkers, the GM and Supervisors knew about this and didn't care. One night as I was walking back home, I was attacked just before that I-10 overpass on North Indian Canyon. I called off for work the next day because of my bruises and I was in so much pain. I used some of my PTO until I felt better. I told my supervisor what had happened and he asked me why I didn't just called the police or go to the hospital.. I was in so much pain and too embarrassed and emotional to even think about that at the moment. I just wanted to get home that night. He made me feel as if it was my fault. He questioned my choices instead of offering help, making me feel responsible for the trauma I went through. All I said to him and kept repeating to everyone that would listen to me.. If I don't show up, don't assume I'm a 'no-call, no-show.' to please, please just call the police so my family can find me, because I'm probably dead in that desert. I was disappointed with how uncaring they were towards me. Some time later after that, I found out that a coworker was being driven home in the "hotel guests only" shuttle, the same shuttle I was told I couldn't get a ride home. I realized then how quickly they would come to the rescue of one of their own kind and not me. It was a cold realization, they had the means to protect me, they just chose not to. The stretch of North Indian Canyon between Palm Springs and Desert Hot Springs is notorious for more than just the wind and the isolation. It is notorious for the frequent closures due to sandstorms because it literally covers the entire road making it dangerous to drive for its sand winds poor visibility. It is a literal desert void, and expecting anyone to navigate it on foot at midnight is an abdication of basic human decency. The only light post is this one at the corner of Pierson Blvd. That single light post wasn't just a marker of how far Iβd come, it was a reminder of how much of the journey I had to survive in total darkness. I share this not for pity, but as a testament I survived that desert and I survived their indifference. I will never forget the night I realized that my life was worthless an disposable to them than the gas in a shuttle van. Looking at these photos now, years later, I donβt just see a dark road, i see a version of myself that was far stronger than the people who failed to protect me. That walk taught me that some people will watch you walk through a literal darkness and never offer a hand, but it also proved that I could make it to the other side on my own. I eventually left that desert, and I left their indifference behind, too. But I carry that light at Pierson Blvd with me in my memory. Not as a reminder of my struggle, but as a symbol of the moment I realized I was worth more than the place and the people that tried to break me.
