Moral Relativism on the Phoenix Streets

By William T. McGrath '02

I walk through the parking lot of the homeless shelter where I work. The benches under the shade tent are occupied with sleepers and readers, men rolling cigarettes by hand, a guy named Raul listening to a beat-up transistor radio. They are waiting for the soup line to start. The Phoenix sun is unleashing its full salvo upon the city, and the parking lot is pacific. It is too hot to do much other than sit still.…

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