On Giving

I'm sorry I dropped the ball on this blog. Life got busier than I expected. But having heard from several people that they check in from time-to-time, I am inspired to continue writing. I have many thoughts to share. The last few months have been jam-packed with experiences, emotions, and stories. But today I want to focus on a particular exchange I shared with a man this past weekend.

My friend Megan was in town and we spent the two days downtown. I'm happy to report that Chicago is alive and well with the holiday spirit. Just walk down State Street and Michigan Avenue -- it's consumerism at its finest. You would never know our country is in a yearlong recession. But this shopping frenzy creates a sharp contrast with the high number of people asking for money on the streets. I suppose I don't see it on a daily basis as there are not many beggars in my neighborhood, and I rarely venture onto Belmont, despite working close to it. I was particularly affected by these folks on the street as it was a very cold weekend. It's hard to be in the Holiday spirit and know that it doesn't translate to everyone. It's also hard to see people spending so much money and yet passing by people in need without so much as acknowledging their existence as a human.

I was feeling badly all weekend that I hadn't even given out a dollar. Sunday I spent $10 on lunch (a lot more than I generally spend on food these days; having spent this much on myself, I was determined to at least give a dollar to someone). There was leftover pizza topped with spinach, mushrooms, onions and feta cheese. It was delicious and I was delighted by the prospect of bringing it to work for lunch on Monday.

However, walking down the sidewalk, we passed a man who asked if we could help him get something to eat. I smiled, and said, "Sorry, not today." But then we passed him again, and I realized I was carrying food! So I offered him my prized pizza. He said to me, "I get offered pizza 10-12 times a day." I smiled uncomfortably and raised my eyebrows; did he want it or not? "Is it thin or thick crust?" he inquired. "Thin," I responded thinking and it's topped with lots of veggies, quickly realizing that may not be something this man valued. He took the pizza, gave me a blessing, and as I headed into Walgreen's to ask for directions he called out, "Could you help a brother get a Pepsi and a cupcake too?" He was joking, but not. I laughed gently and said, "Probably not today." This exchange left me with a frustrated feeling.

Later with Megan, I jokingly said, "Man, I wish people offered me pizza 10-12 times a day." She reminded me that, no, I want to eat the warm meals I want when I want them, and not left overs from someone's plate. She was right. "But he asked if we could help him get something to eat, and I gave him something to eat," I responded indignantly. He probably wanted money, she suggested. I started to get upset, for I hate the argument that all homeless people blow their money on alcohol and drugs. But she went on to explain that asking for help to eat appeals to many people, but that he probably really needed money to buy a warmer winter coat, or pay for a warm place to spend the night, or buy medicine, or maybe cigarettes or alcohol to help him cope with his conditions.

And so I'm frustrated. He wasn't thrilled by the pizza, whereas I was very excited to eat it the next day. He probably would've preferred a dollar. This would've been a cheaper option for me, because since I didn't have leftovers, I had to buy a $6 jar of peanut butter so I could eat the next day. But there was no way to change the situation. In Avodah, we were talking about why people give to causes. Oftentimes, people give because it makes them feel good. And I didn't feel good after this exchange. And I'm even more upset with myself for being frustrated that he wasn't grateful for my 'donation.'

It was a messy situation. But generally, this is something with which I've been struggling this year. I'm on a very limited budget and the need is overwhelming -- especially when you're downtown. But when I think about it, I still have so much more than the people I pass asking for money. I get to come home to a lovely, warm apartment every night, I'm never hungry, I have a job, and a supportive network of friends and family. But I am certainly not in a position to give to every person that asks. It's hard, too, because the whole point of Avodah: The Jewish Service Corps is that we spend a year fighting poverty in American cities. I've learned that there are myriad social service agencies that are there to assist people in need, but I understand these are not always positive experiences for people and that I'm in no position to tell people how to live their lives. By participating in Avodah, I've dedicated a year (hopefully the first of many) of my life, trying to make the situation in our society better. But that doesn't change the difficulty of the situation when a person humbly asks for money and I have to say no.

So that's what's been on my mind most recently. I wish there was a clearcut solution to this problem, but obviously there is not, for it still exists. I guess I'll have to go on being grateful for and cognizant of what I have, giving what I can and channeling my time and energy into productive, community-based projects that help address the need at the structural level.

Peace.