If Only the Homeless Were InvisibleThe homeless sure have a hold over us. They make us feel things we'd rather not think about, and at the most inconvenient times, too. There we are, walking down the street, minding our own business, when a total stranger suddenly extends a palm and forces us to confront who and what we are as fellow travelers on this earth. Who needs that? Most of us want to believe in a better version of ourselves. We hope we're decent and fair, quick to praise and slow to judge. We want to believe that, when pushed, we opt for kindness over cruelty and patience over anger. That's why we hate running into beggars on the street. They challenge our good assumptions about ourselves and force us to confront those parts that don't quite fit with who we want to be. Some of us feel angry and put-upon, and hellbent on not being duped. How do we know that person will use the money for bus fare or food? How do we know that hard-luck story isn't just a lie for drug money? We don't want to be anybody's chump. Many of us feel guilty, so we dig for coins, knowing that no matter what we give, it's not enough. We feel lucky not to be them, and then we feel guilty about that, too. Especially when they say, "God bless you," no matter how small the donation. Makes you question the strength of your own faith. It'd be so much easier if we could just ignore the homeless. Well, help is on the way. Cleveland has joined a growing list of cities trying to eliminate the problem of homeless Americans by encouraging us to pretend they don't exist. The Downtown Cleveland Alliance, along with church and social-service organizations, launched a "Don't Give Where It Can't Help" campaign. The idea is to treat them as if they're invisible, and eventually they will be. I don't doubt there are some good intentions behind these efforts. Some people are legitimately afraid of beggars, who can be aggressive. And many really do want to help the homeless, which is why in Cleveland they also have started a Downtown Homeless Fund. The problem, though, is the magical thinking driving this campaign.
There's a more troubling side to this campaign, too, and that's what it says about us as a people and a community. "The homeless are still humans, and they should be recognized as humans every day," said Megan Hustings of the National Coalition for the Homeless. And let's keep in mind just who they are. Of the homeless, 33 percent are families with children, many of them victims of domestic violence. Anywhere from 11 percent to 40 percent of men who are homeless are veterans. About 16 percent of homeless adults are mentally ill. Most of the homeless are poor, and all of them have more in common with us than we want to think — or see. And for most of us, there's always that nagging mantra that begins, "There but for the grace of God …" Nearly 15 years ago, my friend Sue once chastised her mother for giving to every beggar who crossed her path. "What are you doing ?" Sue asked. "That was my dad," her mother said. She was talking about Sue's grandfather, who was long gone. He had worked as a postmaster in Buffalo, N.Y., but his affection for gambling and alcohol eventually trumped his love for his family. He walked out of their lives and into the streets, and died alone years later in a town hundreds of miles away. No fancy slogan will ever make Sue pretend she can't see the homeless person standing right in front of her. Most of us don't really spend much time thinking about how to help the homeless. What we really want is permission not to think of them at all. Permission granted. Connie Schultz is a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist for The Plain Dealer in Cleveland and the author of two books from Random House: "Life Happens" and "… and His Lovely Wife." To find out more about Connie Schultz (cschultz@plaind.com) and read her past columns, please visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com. COPYRIGHT 2007 CREATORS SYNDICATE INC.
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