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poltr1This morning, my wife and I were in downtown Dayton for some personal business. I was wearing a business suit. After the business was over, we stopped at a downtown coffee shop for breakfast. It's a block away from where my wife works.
After dropping my wife off at the coffee shop, finding a spot to park, and getting out of the car, I was stopped by a homeless man looking for money for either coffee or a sandwich. I offered to buy something for him at the coffee shop, but he said he didn't drink their coffee. He mentioned getting a sausage biscuit at a McDonald's a couple of blocks away. I ended up giving him a dollar, just so he'd go away.
As we left and went our separate ways -- she walked to work, I walked back to the car -- I was approached by another man who said he liked my suit. He mentioned something about working at Steak & Shake, and I couldn't understand what else he said. I told him I was between jobs. After we crossed the street, he went one way while I went another to get to the car.
It's probably worth mentioning that both of these men appeared to be dressed in lower-class clothing. Both are men of color. So, why do I want to avoid this type of person? I don't believe they're out to hurt me. But when someone in a lower social class approaches me, my suspicions, defenses, and fear raise up. First, I just want to be left alone. Second, are they carrying a weapon? Third, do they see me as a soft touch with lots of money just there to be taken? Fourth, are they going to try and save my soul by forcing Jesus down my throat? Fifth, do they see me as a representation of "The Man" who should receiving a sticking from them (as in "Stick it to The Man")?
I grew up in the suburbs and not the city, so I didn't grow up with panhandlers around me. We were all upper-middle class. The city was an area that was not to be trusted. It's full of pickpockets and theives. At least that was the message I got from my dad when I was growing up.
I started distrusting panhandlers a few years ago. One year, outside of Marcon in Columbus, I was approached by a man who said he needed a dollar for gas. I gave him the dollar. A few minutes later, I saw him enter a bar. Not all panhandlers are this conniving, but there are a few who are.
My heart goes out to these people, even though my mind keeps telling my heart, "You fool!" Is there anything I could do to give them a hand up and not a handout? These are people who are, or have been, down on their luck. They're economically disadvantaged, either by chance or by choice. Religion is like an escape for them -- a way to forget about the hassles of everyday life and to reclaim their self-worth and dignity, at least for one day out of the week. Perhaps that is why they believe so fervently -- it gives them the hope and strength to carry on.
After dropping my wife off at the coffee shop, finding a spot to park, and getting out of the car, I was stopped by a homeless man looking for money for either coffee or a sandwich. I offered to buy something for him at the coffee shop, but he said he didn't drink their coffee. He mentioned getting a sausage biscuit at a McDonald's a couple of blocks away. I ended up giving him a dollar, just so he'd go away.
As we left and went our separate ways -- she walked to work, I walked back to the car -- I was approached by another man who said he liked my suit. He mentioned something about working at Steak & Shake, and I couldn't understand what else he said. I told him I was between jobs. After we crossed the street, he went one way while I went another to get to the car.
It's probably worth mentioning that both of these men appeared to be dressed in lower-class clothing. Both are men of color. So, why do I want to avoid this type of person? I don't believe they're out to hurt me. But when someone in a lower social class approaches me, my suspicions, defenses, and fear raise up. First, I just want to be left alone. Second, are they carrying a weapon? Third, do they see me as a soft touch with lots of money just there to be taken? Fourth, are they going to try and save my soul by forcing Jesus down my throat? Fifth, do they see me as a representation of "The Man" who should receiving a sticking from them (as in "Stick it to The Man")?
I grew up in the suburbs and not the city, so I didn't grow up with panhandlers around me. We were all upper-middle class. The city was an area that was not to be trusted. It's full of pickpockets and theives. At least that was the message I got from my dad when I was growing up.
I started distrusting panhandlers a few years ago. One year, outside of Marcon in Columbus, I was approached by a man who said he needed a dollar for gas. I gave him the dollar. A few minutes later, I saw him enter a bar. Not all panhandlers are this conniving, but there are a few who are.
My heart goes out to these people, even though my mind keeps telling my heart, "You fool!" Is there anything I could do to give them a hand up and not a handout? These are people who are, or have been, down on their luck. They're economically disadvantaged, either by chance or by choice. Religion is like an escape for them -- a way to forget about the hassles of everyday life and to reclaim their self-worth and dignity, at least for one day out of the week. Perhaps that is why they believe so fervently -- it gives them the hope and strength to carry on.
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-21 04:40 pm (UTC)I am downtown everyday when going to school and they bug more than men in business suits. I avoid them totally because I have my own personal reasons but for some religion is more than an excape. It is a way of life.. if you are poor or rich. But I wont go on because I doubt you meant what it sounded like you said... I most likely just read your post wrong.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-21 05:34 pm (UTC)Like safety.
for some religion is more than an excape. It is a way of life..
Aye, it is, unfortunately. And it's their mission to recruit, recruit, recruit. When it should be invite, invite, invite....and accept a "No" answer.
On Monday, I saw a man of color in a business suit at Arby's. My first reaction was "fundamentalist or preacher". Somewhere in my past I must have encountered such a man who tried the hard-sell of Jeezus on me and wouldn't take no for an answer. What else would explain such a visceral reaction to him?
When I wrote the line about religion being an escape, I was thinking back to a Saturday afternoon in the summer of '02. I had an out-of-town friend in Cincinnati, who was in for a convention, and I was giving him a driving tour of the area. During one section of the trip, we drove through the Over-The-Rhine neighborhood. ("The belly of the beast", as I described it to him.) There was a church in session. The doors were open and I could hear the sermon and the music. OTR is not the greatest neighborhood to live in -- a run-down inner-city where crime and drugs are rampant. I saw a marked contrast between the buildings in the neighborhood and what was going on inside the church. Saturday afternoon was when the people in the neighborhood could forget their day-to-day lives and immerse themselves in their faith.