Sunday, May 15, 2005
Finding a new face in the crowd: It is rare when a random 10-minute conversation can change your outlook, but that happened to me yesterday.
I am still adjusting to my new Hoosier surroundings. I moved to the Indiana about a week ago to take a new job. It is my second stint in the state, having gone to college here and garnered my first professional position here. On Saturday, I was walking back to my car after buying some provisions for my refridgerator, when a man walked up to me. The man was dressed better than I was -- he appeared cleanly shaven, about middle-aged, and was wearing a collared shirt, slacks, a baseball cap and jacket. (I had a 5-o'clock shadow and was wearing sweat pants, a T-shirt, baseball cap.) He was polite, asking: "Excuse me sir, do you know Fort Wayne very well?" I responded "No." Then he asked if I could help a man down on his luck by giving him a ride to another supermarket a few blocks away.
This set off a dozen alarm bells in my head. I have lived and worked in large urban areas and visited others where homeless are to be viewed skeptically or feared. I have seen the panhandlers who fight over the corners they sit on each morning to beg for money from commuters. Some have turned it into a lucrative, money-making career. I have been warned not to give money to homeless in other cities because word of the act of kindness would spread and others would find you to ask for similar help.
I have been scolded by panhandlers after refusing to help them. I once was with a group of friends who offered to take a panhandler to lunch after she asked for money for food. But she refused, saying she only wanted money. We will never know for sure, but my friends and I suspected she wanted the money for something other than food.
Yesterday's encounter was different. The man was homeless, but he didn't ask for money at first. He needed a ride to get back to his car. He assured me he was not going to rob me or kill me, and for some reason I believed him. Looking back, I don't know why.
We never exchanged names. He was a very chatty man, asking me about my career as a writer, the weather, what I thought of Fort Wayne and how it compared to Chicago. He never asked me, either directly or subtly, for sympathy. In fact, he asked me what I thought would be the best way to change his situation. He must have thanked me for the ride at least three times during the 10-minute drive and promised to pay my kind act forward. During the ride he also asked if I could spare some change for gas. I gave him some change I had in the car. He asked several times while putting the money in his pocket if it was OK that he took it.
When we arrived at the supermarket where his car was parked, he did not ask for any more help. Instead he thanked me and shook my hand. I thanked him and he got out of the car.
Sometimes a person needs to be forced to change his mind. This man was not a leach or unwilling to change his situation. He was not expecting someone to help. He did not appear angry about the cards life had dealt him. He seemed like a normal person, just like me. He was trying to make it just like I was.
Will I be helping every homeless person I encounter now? No. But the experience has changed my feeling about who the homeless are. I don't think all of them are hustlers or criminals. I think they are human, with feelings and desires and goals. They are no longer faceless.
I am still adjusting to my new Hoosier surroundings. I moved to the Indiana about a week ago to take a new job. It is my second stint in the state, having gone to college here and garnered my first professional position here. On Saturday, I was walking back to my car after buying some provisions for my refridgerator, when a man walked up to me. The man was dressed better than I was -- he appeared cleanly shaven, about middle-aged, and was wearing a collared shirt, slacks, a baseball cap and jacket. (I had a 5-o'clock shadow and was wearing sweat pants, a T-shirt, baseball cap.) He was polite, asking: "Excuse me sir, do you know Fort Wayne very well?" I responded "No." Then he asked if I could help a man down on his luck by giving him a ride to another supermarket a few blocks away.
This set off a dozen alarm bells in my head. I have lived and worked in large urban areas and visited others where homeless are to be viewed skeptically or feared. I have seen the panhandlers who fight over the corners they sit on each morning to beg for money from commuters. Some have turned it into a lucrative, money-making career. I have been warned not to give money to homeless in other cities because word of the act of kindness would spread and others would find you to ask for similar help.
I have been scolded by panhandlers after refusing to help them. I once was with a group of friends who offered to take a panhandler to lunch after she asked for money for food. But she refused, saying she only wanted money. We will never know for sure, but my friends and I suspected she wanted the money for something other than food.
Yesterday's encounter was different. The man was homeless, but he didn't ask for money at first. He needed a ride to get back to his car. He assured me he was not going to rob me or kill me, and for some reason I believed him. Looking back, I don't know why.
We never exchanged names. He was a very chatty man, asking me about my career as a writer, the weather, what I thought of Fort Wayne and how it compared to Chicago. He never asked me, either directly or subtly, for sympathy. In fact, he asked me what I thought would be the best way to change his situation. He must have thanked me for the ride at least three times during the 10-minute drive and promised to pay my kind act forward. During the ride he also asked if I could spare some change for gas. I gave him some change I had in the car. He asked several times while putting the money in his pocket if it was OK that he took it.
When we arrived at the supermarket where his car was parked, he did not ask for any more help. Instead he thanked me and shook my hand. I thanked him and he got out of the car.
Sometimes a person needs to be forced to change his mind. This man was not a leach or unwilling to change his situation. He was not expecting someone to help. He did not appear angry about the cards life had dealt him. He seemed like a normal person, just like me. He was trying to make it just like I was.
Will I be helping every homeless person I encounter now? No. But the experience has changed my feeling about who the homeless are. I don't think all of them are hustlers or criminals. I think they are human, with feelings and desires and goals. They are no longer faceless.
