I was walking into the BART station on Powell Street in San Francisco the other day and noticed with great sadness that the underground passageways were lined with sleeping homeless people huddled with various assortments of nothing much. They were silent and separate against the walls on both sides. Some slept without pillows, some slept without shirts.
Mostly the passing patrons and the paupers ignore each other, but occasionally someone will be holding a cardboard sign and a cup, asking for a handout.
Generally I walk on by. Then I have inner turmoil and conflict. Why, if I’m such a green head, a supporter of the downtrodden, a social program proponent, a liberal thinker, am I not reaching deep into my pocket and helping these unfortunates? Why don’t I hand out money on street corners? Am I a hypocrite?
Pat answers can have complicated consequences. My quick response is that I don’t have spare change. I need every penny. Deep down, however, I know that that is a bull pucky exaggeration. I can spare a quarter without foreclosures. I usually have loose change in my pocket and I couldn’t tell you how much and if a quarter disappeared from it I’d never notice it gone.
Another reason I give for keeping my coins is that I don’t want to encourage begging. If the person makes money on this street corner, he’ll be back tomorrow. If he cannot make a buck with his hand out, maybe he’ll find something more productive to do. “If you give a mouse a cookie.”
That response chills me because I see macrocosmic parallels with the conservative slant toward withholding goods and services to the poor. Have three jobs, can’t feed your kids? Get another job. Disabled? Get a job sitting down. Homeless because you’re unemployed? Go sleep under a bridge. Where does one draw the line? What’s the difference between me saying no to the homeless and a politician saying no to the homeless?
Another response I use is that there are too many homeless people asking for spare change. If I gave a quarter to ever person who held their hand out it would lead to foreclosures. I’d be penniless, on the streets, with dirty socks.
That response chills me because it has portentous consequences. If my reaction were adopted as public policy, we would have blight and famine. The policy translation is that the more poor people we have, the less we will be willing to help them.
Another response I use is that I don’t trust that the person begging is truly in need. How do I know they don’t have a 40 lb. sack of quarters stashed nearby? How do I know if they are truly hungry? Considering their state, they’re bad money managers. What will they do with my cash contribution? Will they spend it wisely, or booze is up?
I’m creeped out by that response because it fosters distrust and reeks of micromanagement. It brings in the motives of need versus greed. How do I know you’re really poor? Maybe you’re just dishonest. Disdain quashes sympathy leaving apathy.
One other response I have is a justification. I give to the poor in other more organized and responsible ways. I donate to charities. I vote in favor of social aid. I speak out on social injustice. I shop local. Therefore, no, I don’t have a quarter to spare.
I have a few looks that I give to homeless people who ask for change. One look is that I’d really like to stop and help you out but I’m very busy and late for an appointment and I have to pee badly and I left my wallet at the pool hall.
The other look I give is the blank stare, which may mean I speak only Chechen, or that I’m illiterate and cannot read the sign, or that I’m deaf, which I sort-of am, so I feel justified.
The truth is that I can’t help everyone. To not help anyone, however, is a cop out. Where do you draw the line? How much are you willing to give? Those are personal decisions.
Something I intend to do that to date is all talk and no action is to make care packages for the homeless and carry a few whenever I travel into the Bay Area. Frequently we’ve discussed making bags full of Band-Aids, baby wipes, lip balm, sunscreen, apple sauce, beef jerky, and socks. I could keep them in the car like grocery bags. Then I’d have a care package ready when I exit from the Costco parking lot or take the Gillman Street off-ramp.
I’ve heard that travel coffee mugs are popular because they keep liquids warm and are eligible for refill discounts. Some things not to include are smelly items like soap, sanitizer, and mouthwash with food. It makes the food smell like soap. No crunchy bars. Consider dental disabilities.
Anyhow, it’s hard to believe in helping the poor while walking past them without helping.
In the end, it’s all about of the weather.

Steve Gibbs is a retired Benicia High School teacher who has written a column for The Herald since 1985.

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