Upon moving into the Greater Baltimore area two and a half years ago I was hit with a culture shock. See I grew up a country girl from Ringgold, Virginia—a one stoplight town with miles of cow pastures and tobacco fields. The closest almost big city is Danville, and although it’s making a bigger name for itself these days, it has always been somewhat of a sleepy city. Now that being said, growing up I had little if any interaction with the “invisible Homeless population.” My first real “I can’t ignore you” encounter came when Denise, Nique and I got off the train in Grand Central Station, New Year’s Eve, 2011 –a raw eye opener. I didn’t have enough spare change to clear my conscious or quiet my heart that night. And then a year and some change later I moved to the Greatest City in America At One Time At Least.