In room 29 at the Oak Hotel, you will find, "the Tragedy named Roxane". This self-proclaimed title is how Roxane Roberts, age 58, U.S. veteran, accomplished poet and alcoholic describes, her life. These days, in a place somewhere between homelessness and extreme poverty, home is a rented room located within the boundaries of San Francisco's infamous Tenderloin district. Like so many SRO hotels, it is a central nervous system for drug distribution, AIDS, poverty and crime.
When I met Roxane, the first thing I noticed was the gaping hole in her throat; a debilitating condition and result of her attempted suicide on December 23, 2008. But first impressions proved to be so much more than her physical state. The raspy voice, her one eye and weathered skin could not compete with her witty banter, investigative demeanor and almost alarming honesty. Yes, you could say, I liked Roxane.
Over the days spent in room 29, I learned much about the tragedy of her life: an impoverished veteran, sexually abused childhood, victim of numerous rapes, incarceration, drug addiction and life long battle with alcohol. Listening to her stories, it’s hard to imagine the life she has lived. The isolation that now accompanies her is not welcomed, just instinctual self-preservation.
Though, amidst it all, Roxane proves that the human spirit is resilient to the human condition. The tragedy that has become her life has not yet condemned her. Through her exploration and expressions of poetry and faith, Roxane continues to survive.