What do you see when a person is standing on the corner with a sign asking for help?
Poverty affects me every day in a lot of ways. I believe growing up in poverty has made me a more compassionate person and helps me create a path for my life, a life that I'm proud to live. There is a lot of stigma surrounding poverty... a lot of guilt, a lot of feelings of failure and shame... And honestly, it's a very odd situation I find myself in to be so ingrained in the culture of the "have nots," but to look like and physically be extremely distanced from the struggle. I am a white female, from Connecticut, who attended private high school, a private college and is not seeking her masters degree. There are a lot of feelings of shame, guilt, and failure on this side of the fence too.
Every day I feel. I don't judge (or at least I try my hardest not to). Portland, OR has a huge population of homeless citizens. And every day I struggle. I struggle to figure out if I should avoid eye contact, how guilty I should feel for only having 53 cents in my wallet to give, feeling guilty for not volunteering enough, feeling overwhelmed by not being able to help enough... or in the right way. What good will 53 cents do for this person anyway? I'm going to pull over and stop traffic and make this person feel guilty for also stopping traffic and feeling ashamed for taking and needing the 53 cents... Oh thank god, a green light... the decision has been made for me.
I have been inspired not only by the strength of those people who have helped me become the person I am today and afforded me shelter, food, clothing, love, opportunities to participate... These people include my mom, other family members, friends, teachers, coaches, strangers... Because of you all I never had to fear homelessness, hunger, safety... I was able to attain my most valuable possession -- my education. People helped in huge ways, in small ways, in ways they'll never even realize... And still, with all of this evidence, I find myself believing that as a stranger... my small gesture of help is not enough and will not matter.
This story isn't about me though. This story is about John. I have seen John since I moved to Tigard in the summer of 2013. He stands on a median on HWY 99 near the on ramp for I-5. He holds a sign that reads "Laid Off. Anything Helps." He has blue eyes.
John is on the median in the rain, in the cold, in the heat, in the sun, and then again, because this is Oregon, in the rain. I have given him what I had a few times, and he's not the only person holding a sign that I've ever given money to... But one cold day my heart grew intensely for him. I only had about 75 cents in my wallet -- I rarely have cash on me these days. I held my hand out the window and I was having an inner dialogue "Do I look at him? Do I say hi? Do I smile? How do I come off as warmly as possible without making him feel bad?" I dropped the coins in his hand and felt the bitter cold of his skin. In that same moment our eyes met and I saw the extreme sincerity and extreme shame in his eyes. He clearly and genuinely said "Thank You" and I drove off. I couldn't stop thinking about him, his determination... his HARD WORK. Later that day, before heading to work, I developed a plan. I googled the best place to park to bring him lunch, hummed and hawed over what would be appropriate for him, how he liked his coffee and if people would donate less to him if they saw he hand starbucks in his hand. I gathered some non-parishable food items from my pantry, some cold weather attire and a card that I planned to place a $20 bill in that I had intentionally gone to the bank for, just for him. I wrote in that card that I understand the conflict he must feel and that most importantly -- I SEE HIM.
On my way to work I didn't see him. He wasn't there. And for the next few days I didn't see him. I threw away the old sandwich, dumped out the coffee and eventually when my husband asked me if I had cash on me... I took the cash out of John's card and gave it to Drew. A few days later I also gave the bag of food to a different homeless man because as the guilt of spending John's $20 ate at me... So did the idea that I ear marked everything for John and not just anyone in need.
Days went by... I avoided that median. I thought of plans to get there and give him lunch like I had originally planned. I was embarrassed by my card to him and ultimately I believe I just shredded it. I knew my husband didn't really understand why this was affecting me so much. I didn't try to explain it either. I tried to figure out John's schedule. Tried to rationalize my feelings of guilt and shame, while also trying to address with myself why I felt such a need to follow through.
For the last few days I have ear marked a $10 bill for John. No food, no grander gesture. I have made it a priority to get this $10 to him. I have altered my route home. I have been keeping mental notes of when I drive by and either see him or don't. And I have also had a larger conversation with myself about why I want to follow through. But I will get to that in a minute.
Today! Today I saw John. He was not at his median... but rather catching a bus. With the minimal working knowledge I have of Tri-Met, I figured he was going to be getting off at the Tigard Transit station. Knowing I have a lot to do today... I hummed and hawed again about whether I should go there and finally say hello and introduce myself. Not only was I considering my time and convenience, I was also considering his level of shame and willingness to accept my help out of his normal context.
Eventually, I said fuck it and got out of my own way. I met John at the transit center and as he got off his bus I called to him... "Sir? ..... Sir???" Understandably, he wasn't expecting anyone to be calling to him. And a little beside myself... I wasn't sure what to do next. He finally turned around and I started rambling. I explained that I see him a lot (something I probably should have worded differently) and how I've stopped before (not necessary to the conversation) but I just wanted to meet him and see how else I can help. I told him about the time I tried to get him lunch and he (understandably) didn't know how to respond.
He looked confused and in disbelief. He said "I'm sorry, you caught me off guard." I told him I understand and asked him if he was busy or if I could take him to lunch. He explained that right now he's staying at a shelter until the end of February (the coldest part of the winter) but was working on getting housing. The shelter provides lunch and that's where he was going. I asked if there was any other way that I could help. He stammered (as if "what the hell could I help with?) I explained a few things about myself but that I'm training to be a counselor and I would love to help get him in touch with resources... In between all of this I found out that his name was John. He apologized to me that I see him so much. He expressed how humiliating it is to be there. I patted his arm and I said that I believe what he is doing takes bravery, hard work and dedication. He stood there... took my name and number and looked up at the sky. "Where did you come from?" He asked as he walked away. I went back to my car and I wept for his shame and for the stigma that is attached to the idea of needing help.
When I see a person asking for help... Whether it's with a cardboard sign, negative behavior, or completely non-verbal... I don't see someone who is weak. I see someone who deserves humanity and kindness. I struggle with my privilege and how that may transfer on to someone else... but at the end of the day I believe that small gestures do help enough. And that by believing the contrary, many people with small contributions who can ultimately make a big difference, are missing their opportunity.
I know now that that man is John. And he takes his coffee black. And he tries to hurry off that median as fast as he can because of his shame. But his perseverance helps give him the strength to get the help he needs. John may never call me or email me... He may never explicitly ask for my help. But I am going to keep rolling down my window with my 53 cents and take an opportunity to get him his coffee (black) and find resources that may help him with his greater needs.
If anyone knows anything about housing for the homeless in Portland or shelters in the SW area that go beyond the winter months... And any aid and services information that you can find that may help him, please let me know.
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