Search For A Solution

SEARCH FOR A SOLUTION
By: Kelly Williams

Over the last few years, the sick feeling inside of my stomach has grown in intensity each and every time I encounter a person on the street asking for food, money or work. If I have food with me, I give it. If I have nothing, I acknowledge the person with my eyes and say, “I’m sorry.” And, no matter what I do, the sick feeling in my stomach just sits tight, my eyes well up with tears and my heart aches with sadness.

I could give money and I don’t. Somewhere along the way I have developed a notion that any money given might be spent on things I’ve deemed inappropriate such as alcohol and drugs and thereby making my choice not to give money a little bit easier. Yet, no matter what, standing right in front of me with an empty cup is still a human being asking for some assistance and the sick feeling in my stomach only gets worse.

What is the solution here? Should I carry food with me at all times so that I might be able to give a loaf of bread, some fruit, cans of tuna? Should I let go of the notion that any money given might be spent in ill ways and simply trust each person to use the money in whatever way they need to?

Should I carry a list of local food banks with me and give each person bus fare to reach that destination? Should I double my volunteer efforts at The Salvation Army and other local organizations that provide meals each day? Should I offer to buy each person I encounter a hot meal?

A few weeks back, while riding a city bus I passed a young woman standing on a street corner begging for help. It was a hot summer day, over 90 degrees and she stood there on the corner in the sun wearing all the clothes she had (long sleeve shirts, full length pants, boots) and holding a sign, “I’m hungry – please help.” As the bus whizzed past her heading for the on ramp of Lake Shore Drive I thought, “That could be me” - she looked about my age. Once again, with even more intensity then ever before, the uneasiness in my stomach rose. “I’ll take her out to dinner if she is still there when I get back from being downtown,” I told myself.

Two hours later, on my bus ride back from the city to my neighborhood, I passed her once again. I jumped off at my stop, about five blocks north, ran up to my apartment, changed clothes and set off for a walk to find her. But I didn’t find her. Instead, I saw another person standing in that same spot, asking for help. It was a woman, an older woman. And sadly, but true, I didn’t feel that same pull I had felt earlier and I began to doubt my decision to take her or any homeless person out to dinner. Every little voice inside my head began to speak at once.

“Are you nuts? You don’t take homeless people out to dinner.”

“What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you feel the same way about this woman as you did with the one you saw earlier?”

“What will people think of you if you take her into a local restaurant? What is she isn’t clean, smells? Will they let you in?”

“What will people think of you when you admit that you didn’t take this woman out to dinner simply because she didn’t remind you of you?”

Yesterday on my drive back from dropping Bill off at the airport, I encountered a man on the street corner asking for help. I looked him in his eyes, shook my head no and said, “I’m sorry.” His head dropped a little lower as he scanned the cars behind me and began his walk back up the street where he waited for the light to change once again before searching the eyes of new drivers, asking for assistance.

Seeing the slump of his shoulders as I said no while looking him in his eyes, I felt his sting of rejection and his humility of asking/begging for help, I felt totally connected, sick to my stomach and helpless. What if that was me? My brother? My neighbor? A former co-worker? My mom?

And, it is me…and I don’t know what to do.

Awhile back, I thought I might have a solution. I thought about working with local businesses (grocery store chains, drug stores, etc.) to create a coupon system that people, like me, could buy and give to those asking for assistance. Perhaps each coupon might be worth a $1.00 at the grocery store. Enough coupons and one could buy bread, milk, new clothes. Think of the books of coupons we can buy at places like McDonalds, $10.00 for a book of ten coupons – just something like that – something I would feel good about giving out. Something the person could use to buy things they need. And, each coupon could have resource information printed on the back (locations of shelters, food banks, job programs, etc.). Maybe for a $10.00 coupon book we could each pay $13.00, the extra money put to good use.

Once again, the little voices inside my head roared up.

“What if you make the problem worse with this idea, actually increase the number of people out on the street begging for help? Are you just feeding the problem?”

“What if people don’t understand the coupon system? What kind of education/training is needed? What if they throw the coupons away, see them as worthless?”

“What if stores, even after agreeing to participate, don’t honor the coupons?”

“What if those redeeming the coupons are belittled when doing so?”

“What if people use the coupons to barter for other things – like five coupons for a beer?”

“What if this idea is just another short term band aid and actually gets in the way of creating a long term solution?”

“Am I really searching for a solution or just a way to make myself feel better?”

So, I’m back to the beginning again – the sick feeling inside – searching for a solution and hoping to find something that truly impacts and shifts this issue immediately. Yes, for my own well-being and for the well-being of our planet or at least I think so, hope so.

I ask for your assistance.

What can we do?

I ask for your truth?

When you see someone on the street asking for food or money, what do you do?

What would you like to do?

I know there is a solution. Together we will find it. Please share your thoughts and reactions with us via e-mail at kelly@oneperson.net. We will share what we learn in the next newsletter. Namaste!