If she hadn't been asking for help, for money, I probably would not have noticed her. She was a young black woman with an average frame dressed in jeans and a dark shirt with a vest-type jacket over it. Her clothes were clean from where I stood and not distracting or noticeably worn. She looked healthy, and she had her hair pulled back appropriately for a humid day. There was nothing striking about her appearance, and had she been walking down the street pushing her stroller, she would have looked no different than any other mother in the crowd.
But she was not walking down the street. Instead she was positioned on the sidewalk next to a group of University of Georgia buses She was sitting IN the stroller, her baby cradled in her arms, and she was mumbling to the people making their way into the Atlanta Falcons football game. "Don't you people see me? Help me out. See my baby? My baby needs some food. Come on, help me out." There was no real sense of urgency or dire need expressed in her words. In a way it was more like she believed the people owed it to her to help her out, and she was just going through the motions of asking.
The baby could have been anywhere from a few weeks to a few months old, a boy from what I could tell based on the blue sweater-type garment he was wearing. He had no pants, but he did have on a diaper. It was not too hot or cold outside; it was warm with a cool breeze, so there was nothing significantly unusual about the way he was dressed, and if he had been in the stroller with his mother pushing him along, I'd have thought nothing of it.
But the infant was not being strolled along on this beautiful fall day. Instead he was being exploited on the side of the road, resting in the arms of a woman who was begging for help from a crowd who would most definitely be in that location on that day with money in their pockets for spending inside the Georgia Dome. Call me harsh. Call me insensitive. I may be neither or both of those things. But most definitely, I am disturbed.
As we passed her, my husband and I, our 3-year old in tow and our 2-month old snugly wrapped onto my chest, I couldn't help but stare. The woman's eyes did not meet with mine, and she made eye contact with no one really. In that brief moment nobody approached her with money or even acknowledged she was there. I asked my husband if he saw her, and he said yes, but when I mentioned the baby and the stroller he said those details did not register with him. I made a few comments about how uncomfortable this scene had made me, but then we continued on our way to the game and I forgot all about it...until we were walking back...over 3 hours later...and the woman and her child were STILL there.
This time she was standing next to the stroller and in the process of adjusting her baby in her arms when we walked by, still rambling the same requests for help, and I saw 2 men with conflicting opinions approaching her. One said, "gimme a ten," and the other disputed the amount. "Ten bucks, no way man!" but they still walked toward her.
This time I was even more disturbed, for it had been over THREE hours and she was still there begging with her child. I instantly had so many thoughts running through my mind, ideas of where she may have come from and how she could have gotten to this point in her life. I wondered if she was a drug-user or if she was homeless, and I questioned how she could even have a child. I was instantly so grateful for my own circumstances, which even at their lowest have always been better than hers, and I was saddened to think her baby would grow up this way, if he survived at all. Part of me felt like she didn't deserve that baby, but then again, I didn't know her or what she had been through. All I knew is the image of a woman on the side of the road, looking capable, healthy and of sound mind, using her baby to guilt people into helping her, was disturbing.
About 20 feet down the street was an old black man in a tattered wheelchair...with no legs...also begging for spare change. This scene bothered me much less. With no legs he could not walk, likely could not work, and he was old and probably very much alone. In my mind, he was a more acceptable pan-handler than the young mother who should have been seeking free childcare and job counseling at a shelter. Okay, so maybe that is a bit harsh, but for some reason, I have less sympathy for her than for the man with no legs.
All I care about is that baby. That poor, innocent baby...already a victim of circumstance...
I don't know with any certainty my own opinions on homelessness or poverty. I know I get uncomfortable at a stop light where unfortunate souls are peddling with "Will work for food" signs. I feel nervous and try not to make eye-contact while anxiously wishing the light to quickly turn green. I justify my lack of response by telling myself it could be dangerous to acknowledge them, and suddenly they are somehow a threat to me, and I have dehumanized them in my mind, reducing them to criminals as opposed to just people asking for help.
I remember when I was a kid, my mom and I saw a "homeless-looking" man at McDonald's once. We lived in the suburbs, so it was not exactly a bad part of town, and it seemed odd this man was there. He was an old white man with a long grey beard, and he looked pretty tired and worn out. I don't recall the season, but I know my mom and I sat outside, so it had to have been a nice time of year; the man was wrinkly and dark-skinned from sun exposure. While we ate we watched him inside sitting in a booth, and we talked about what we thought his circumstances might be. He was staring at a job application, and we assumed he must have been unable to read. As we were leaving, my mother decided to ask him if he needed help with the application. He politely answered her saying no mam, that he knew how to read and write but that he was stumped b/c the application required an address and he didn't have one to put down. My mother talked with him a bit and we learned that he was a war vet who's only family was an estranged daughter. I vaguely remember him saying something about how quickly he went from everything was fine to having nothing. He spoke properly and kindly, and he seemed educated and totally sane. I remember feeling so sorry for him and so confused. My mother told him of a halfway house and suggested he go there and use that address and phone number for his job applications. The man seemed genuinely grateful for her advice and concern. On our way out my mom bought another meal and left the tray sitting on the next booth over most definitely where the man could see it...
I believe in general we should help those in need. I believe those needs are relative and some are more important than others. I believe that people who try to help themselves deserve the help more than those who expect handouts. I believe the world is a screwy place where lots of people have been dealt a bad hand...but some people cash out early and give up while others keep fighting until they change their circumstances, be it for themselves or for their children.
I believe that no matter what I have been through in my own life...and it hasn't been perfect...I will never be on the side of the road with my children begging for help from strangers passing by. Maybe that is b/c I have an amazing family to fall back on. Maybe it is b/c I am educated enough to always have a job. Maybe it is b/c I don't feel entitled, but rather I believe in working hard and earning the life I want to live.
Or maybe it is b/c I am so naive to what that mother has been through in her life that led her to that moment...all 3+ hours of it...
Regardless, the disturbing scene was enough to make me ponder the sad things in life and keep me awake writing tonight. I realize that bad things happen sometimes, but I don't understand why God has blessed me with so many gifts while others are out there struggling to extremes. I do believe that everything happens for a reason, and maybe the reason I witnessed this was so I would dig deep down and figure out how I feel about these sorts of issues, but then I think, what was the reason for HER though to be in this position in the first place?
I got to kiss my babies goodnight and tuck them safely into their comfy beds tonight. I read stories to my toddler first and nursed my precious baby girl. We had come home from a fun-filled day at the zoo with friends and had a delicious dinner that my husband cooked for us after his day at a job where he works hard to provide for our family. I woke up this morning full of joy and gratitude. I'm going to bed blessed and thankful.
I wonder where that baby is sleeping tonight...
