Homeless balance life’s issues at free tai chi classes in Utah
SALT LAKE CITY — On a quiet morning outside a library in Salt Lake City, about 70 people are kicking and slicing at the air as they practice the ancient martial art of tai chi.
The group moves uniformly, a silent army save for the gurgling noises of an artificial waterfall and the wind moving through blades of grass.
One man with a long, gray beard balances on his right leg with a ragged blanket draped over his shoulders. A barefoot woman wearing torn jeans does the exercises as a tiny dog circles around her legs.
In this class, the focus is less on mastering the exercise and more on building a community for transient people.
The free program is run by a retired couple who started the classes three years ago by approaching homeless people in tents and pushing grocery carts near the Salt Lake City Public Library to encourage them to join the classes.
Bernie and Marita Hart had one participant in their first class. Now, more than 50 people regularly attend tai chi five days a week at the downtown library and Pioneer Park, where many homeless people congregate.
Bernie Hart, a 78-yearold retired machine shop owner, thought the exercise could help others find stability in their lives.
People gather at the library an hour before the class begins.
The Harts arrive with coffee and rally the group to spread out and stretch.
David Christopher Coons, 54, bounces into the plaza with a cigarette hanging between his front teeth. He says “good morning” to everyone before settling into a stretching routine.
Coons, who is homeless, has been attending the classes for three years.
“It’s a great way to start the morning,” he says. “It helps with my memory and my balance while I try to figure out what’s going on in my life.”
Coons lost his job as an electrician about five years ago. He has been homeless since. Utah’s homeless population has steadily increased over the past three years, according to statistics from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. State officials have cited several factors for the backward slide: increasing housing costs, stagnant wage growth, the opioid epidemic.
As the class gets ready to start, homeless people cast away their belongings and organize themselves into neat rows.
Marita Hart, a 77-yearold retired flight attendant, weaves through the crowd, smiling and patting attendees on the back.
Hart says her favorite part of the program has been watching the camaraderie between participants and the positive effect the class has on their lives. The Harts are pursuing research grants as they hope to offer more workshops at homeless shelters downtown.