Is giving alms to beggars helping or teaching them to be lazy?

Helping

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by jamijo

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It is about 48 degrees today, a crisp fall day in this 'windy city'. As much as I hate to admit it, it will be winter soon. I can deny it and long to put on capris and tank tops, but the facts still remain: I broke out the sweaters, and the wool trench has resurfaced. Layering has gone from a matter of fashion and style to a means of insulation. I am cold, and I hate to be cold. My dramatic self would swear I was "freezing", that I have "never been this cold", but if memory serves me I have been this cold before; colder, actually. Understanding this time when I was cold will help illustrate why I feel that giving alms to beggars is a help and not teaching them to be lazy.

Back in college, I was a "joiner"; I was involved in very many extra-curricular activities, one being my residence hall's community council (the equivalent to student council in high school). We wanted to have a community service project for the residents of our building; something that would make an impact to those involved and for the cause. We decided that we would raise money for a local homeless shelter. But how? We needed a hook. It is one thing to sit somewhere with your hand out and collect change. We wanted to not only collect change, but create a change: change of mind, change of heart. So we had the bright idea that we would simulate homelessness right there in the middle of campus. We called it Box City.

For weeks leading up to the event, council members collected cardboard boxes-big and small. We even got hardware stores to give us duct tape. We were fortunate to have representatives from the homeless shelter come speak to us first hand. We advertised like crazy-seeing who all would come out to see "crazy college kids" sleep outside. And on the night of "the big chill", there were about 20 people signed up to sleep outside along with dozens more that came out to just show support.

For the first few hours, we built our "houses" from the scraps and materials we collected. Then we lit a fire to keep ourselves warm on this unusually cold October night. Individuals from the organization came and spoke to us about their issues with homelessness. These people were not crack addicts or psychotic killers (the typical ideal image). Many of them were people that hit a tough time and couldn't get out. Many of them had children and families, some had to be separated from that family. After that there was not much else to do but sit. We sat there and talked-how long we could last, what people would think, how difficult would class be the next day after this experience. Mostly we talked about how blessed we were to not be in this situation permanently.

It had to be about 11:30 PM. I was tired, so I went inside my box dressed in multiple layers of clothes: three pairs of socks, leggings, thin pants, jogging pants, thick denim jeans, a tank top, t-shirt, long sleeved shirt, sweater, jacket, winter coat, and boots, sure that I was going to beat the chill and sleep through the night. As the night went on, I could hear people walking past; commenting, shocked, appalled, amazed, inspired. Some even dropped money into our collection pot. The local news got word and came out to tape a few minutes for a segment to play on the morning news. But I felt horrible. I was "freezing". Minutes seemed like hours; hours felt like days. I wanted to give up-but how could I? I was one of the people that started this whole effort. What would it look like if I surrendered? 4:21AM. Bbout four and a half hours of the experience, I gave up. I picked up my keys, left the box, and walked back into my dorm room where I laid there, slowly warming up, and went to sleep.

The next day, many people applauded all we had done. We had raised a few hundred dollars along with supplies for the shelter. We had also raised awareness about homelessness. But I didn't feel right. I shouldn't have given up. "At least you lasted five hours. Many people didn't even try," many said. But it wasn't enough that I tried. I should have stayed the whole time.

Box City was all over the news, all over campus, and such a powerful force that there was talk of doing it again, but extending it for all of campus to participate in. The council was shocked. Who knew sleeping outside would catch on?! So after much planning from about 20 on campus groups; three months later, Box City became Box World. On the grassy area outside the student union, I and about 100 students made new "houses" from cardboard and other scrap material they found in dumpsters. I was determined that no matter what I was going to stay the whole night.

Nightfall came, and I was getting extremely tired. I didn't want to go in that box. I remembered how cold it was, how much colder it was now months later, how I was left alone with only the thoughts in my head. It is enough to drive a person like me insane. Shortly before midnight, I decided to get inside my box and attempt to sleep. All the many layers of clothes could not shield me from the blistery cold. "You have a warm bed....there is hot tea at home...no one will mind that you left..." My mind just kept racing, but I blocked all that out because I was determined to stay out there for the whole night. I attempted to sleep but the cold would rattle my bones and wake me every few minutes. I swear, I alternated praying (for myself and those in this situation outside of a campus-wide fund raiser,) and singing (to keep my spirits high and my mind off the cold). Somehow, some way, 6:30 AM came. the sun shone down on my face through a crack in my cardboard box. I had done it. I slept outside the whole night. I was excited, i was proud. I didn't quit.

I walked back to my room after breaking down my cardboard house. I reflected with each step I took. In that moment, I was proud for making it through. I was angry, because no one should have to go through this; this country is so abundant with wealth and resources. As I walked up the three flights of stairs and put my key into my dorm room door, I exhaled like never before. I had never been so happy to see my room. I took off those freezing clothes and put on some warm pajamas. I called my professor and left her a message explaining to her I would not be in class. I got into the bed, snuggled up tight, and drifted to sleep. But as I laid there I shed tears. I got to come back in to my room, to change clothes, eat warm food and drink. Others didn't have that opportunity. Someone, somewhere was preparing to do what I had briefly experienced all over again.

Giving alms to beggars is not teaching them to be lazy. It is you being a blessing to someone that is less fortunate. Laziness is a choice, and though I have never been homeless, I can imagine that if given a choice, no one would choose homelessness. I have a hard time believing that homeless people would choose to not know where their next meal is coming from, choose to not have a roof over their head, to have to rely on the kindness of strangers in a world where the kindness of strangers is pretty close to non-existent.

My experience in homelessness is unique, but I would have given anything for someone to have reached out to me and helped me. People give the argument that the homeless should "just get a job". But it is not easy for people to just get a job. The homeless often times have a stigma placed on them that they are vagrants and plagues to the community. With the exception of Will Smith's movie "The Pursuit of Happyness" , I cannot recall a time where the homeless are portrayed in a positive image in the media. And the story of how that man survived and overcame homelessness is atypical. Homeless individuals dont always have the resources to acquire or sustain a job. In addition, organizations and programs that are set up to help the homeless population are not widely known are often underfunded. When these organizations can open their doors to help, they do not often times able to reach as many people as they would like because the problem of homelessness is so vast. The programs are typically funded through the generous donations of religious institutions and not the state/government. The need of alms and other assistance is critical.

Don't get me wrong, I am not saying I am a perfect person and give all I can, whenever I can. When I am going full speed ahead in my day I sometimes overlook the man with his hand outstretched asking for change because I am trying to get to the next part of my calendar. But that is not what should be everyday. Homeless people are still people who need love and support. If you cannot give money in that moment, then be a help by directing them to a shelter or community organization which can do more for them than a few pockets worth of change. They would appreciate it, and who knows-your kindness could be just the assistance inspiration they need to continue on and make the necessary changes to turn around their life.

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