In the last couple weeks, I’ve had many opportunities to experience Brattleboro as a homeless person. That’s, of course, an exaggeration. I’m not homeless. I just had to get out of the apartment so our landlord could show the house to prospective buyers. Nor had one anyone asked me to leave — I left voluntarily because I felt uncomfortable being there. But still and all, there I was downtown, at all hours of the day, killing time and feeling a little unmoored from what I had become accustomed to thinking of as “home.” The experience wasn’t fun, but it did give me an unusual perspective that proved to be educational.