I grew up in VT (Chester) and used to hang out in Brattleboro all the time. I went back many times even when my family moved to CT. Now I live in New Haven and volunteer with a organization serving people with Substance Use Disorder. I've heard every story about the lost ID, the promises to go to treatment or follow up on a lead I gave someone, or whatnot. Many people here in New Haven do come in and find sobriety and many sadly do not. I get asked for money here and there downtown enough that I take to having imaginary conversations just to get panhandlers not to ask. Compassion Fatigue? Maybe. It sounds like people like Chuck and others have an elaborate way of bypassing their trauma by foisting it on others. You've probably figured that out though.
Yes, I've caught glimpses of your wandering on FB (which I use less and less as I get more engaged with Substack for "serious" writing. The more people I meet the more Melvin begins to look like the crazy wise guy we think he is.
This sentence you wrote really resonated with me: I’ve become, frankly, more pissed off than empathetic to my friends’ seemingly endless “emergencies.”
What you are talking about relates to how it feels when any of us try to generously help others and become overextended (this includes anyone, friends, family, someone in deep need, like the people you have written about). It's not exclusive to those who are homeless. I know this feeling well.
No matter who the people affected might be, it's healthy for you to recognize that when someone else is effectively drowning, they are uniquely unable to accommodate your boundaries, and that's ok. In fact, I think most people cannot do it. We're all this way (if we're honest) when we're in survival mode. But it's also ok to see that you also cannot be an enabler of a bottomless-well situation without guardrails. Because you (and they) are human. And all relationships require some form of balance and positive reciprocity to last. This need not require money or anything other than things like the fist bump, or 'thank you,' or hug you mentioned in your post. Of course, that can be enough.
The hard-earned lesson I learned was to tell people up front, 'Here's what I can do...and here's what I can't do.' I also found that the 'bottomless well' approach never works because people will take you for granted and resent you when you don't want to keep doing it (big shocker there, ha). In the end, we cannot be bottomless.
I know you and I spoke of this not long ago. I truly believe it's all about balance and defining up front what is possible and doable, so no one is left in the lurch. Otherwise, it's a moving target where you never get to celebrate the small wins or connection that comes with being kind.
So much of what I see in VT reminds me of putting out food for the birds in the summer and then taking it away in the winter. It is unfair to offer things this way. Hotel program, overnight beds, benefits that come and go. These are people. They are people with complex needs and it is nuts to treat them casually. Giving false assurance is wrong, even cruel. If we cannot offer things consistently, there will be no balance or stability for them. And without that, how do you ever get a leg up? Brattleboro is a small town, but it punches above its weight. We'll never win with a bottomless pit to fill. But if we defined our giving goals and ensured we could consistently meet them, I think the whole town would get behind it. We would have something clear to shoot for.
Thank you for your posts, for caring and for being a lovely fellow writer and human being.
Looking forward to your next posts in 2025. Best, L
David - I so encourage your break! Years ago I took a workshop called, The Rhythm of Compassion (based on a book by Gail Sheehy), which emphasized that to give out, you must equally take care of yourself. I personally have enjoyed your stories and have been amazed at your basic nonjudgmental attitude even as you are clear eyed about their predicaments, the sometimes self created, sometimes not causes of their suffering and the rarity of breaking free from it all. I appreciate your endeavors and persistence, as I don’t know that I, as a woman, could do that without feeling unsafe. I would be fine if you decided to change your focus. Your writing is whole - informative, introspective, humorous. Thank you!
From my own experience, David, I know what you are talking about. I have been there with similar folks. Don’t have any wise or other advice. Just understanding and compassion. Take a break!
You've shown yourself to need boundaries and self-care in different ways, much like the population and individuals who have become friends and familiar acquaintences. To move from being the Buddha with a dollar bill in hand or the Buddha with a pen in pocket is life wandering within. Even the Buddha needs a helping hand right.
I've only read two of your stories this being one, so I'm a little late to the good-bye if you will. I've worked in psychiatric hospitals in Detroit and community health centers in Flint. It's not for the weak of heart or spirit as you can attest. It will grind you down if you don't have boundaries, daily self-care and other ways to feed your soul.
I bow, offer my heart, to the Buddha in Brattelboro, a city in which I love and yet only visit 10-12 times a year.
The humanity in all of us needs a good reminding now and again of what it looks like in the mirror and that is what you have lived out internally and externally. A rare feat to be able to understand in vivo.
You write brilliantly about a very difficult subject, one that has given many of us headaches and heartaches. I don't know what "the answer" is except that there isn't "one", but you have described situations that have helped me understand just how difficult it is to "solve" the problems.
Thank you for your time, money, and thoughtfulness on this journey. Take a break, you deserve it.
I don't think I've written to you to express clearly enough my deep admiration and respect for the work you have been doing. There's so much to respect, and for me the deepest element is your relentless candor and transparency, the sheer human-ness of every piece you do, including this coda to what is really an astonishing body of work. I've read many of your pieces as they've come out, first on Facebook, and then here, after I joined up with Substack myself. In my view they ought to be required reading for anyone who wants to understand the problems of homelessness, addiction, and the marginalization of people who are no different from anyone in meriting the dignity and respect that you pay them in your friendship and your writing..
You know that I shared a similar kind of engagement during the five years I was volunteering my time as a reporter for The Commons--I think I did five special projects between 2017 and 2022, and each was an entirely immersive experience for me. One of the things that always mattered so much to me was to give voice to the people I would interview--to let them tell their stories and treat them with the full dignity of their humanness. You have accomplished that in so much greater breadth and depth, and without the scrim of journalistic dispassion and objectivity, the eye as camera, not participant--you're a character in your own stories and they are richer for that. I really want to honor the work you have done.
I had to chuckle at your note about "paying sources" and writing it off--I worked out my own routine with Jeff Potter, where I would give someone a $5 and then after they took it, identify myself as a reporter and ask if they wouldn't mind talking with me for a bit. Often they just took the bill and waved me away, but more often not--people like to tell their stories. I have far more material on tape than I could ever use in print. A really complicated thing, because I had to assume the money would be used for drugs or booze. I was far from someone to judge--I had my own battles with alcohol, and only stopped reporting when I finally left Brattleboro and went into treatment. Sometimes a source would offer items for sale, as a point of pride or to gain a larger sum, and I did that once, paying $30 for a couple of items, then realized that they probably had been stolen. So I never did that again. It is a tricky business.
I really know what you mean about the burnout from constant lying and the uselessness of so much of the support and help one offers--I had that firsthand, working for decades with college students wirh ADHD who had perfected various strategies for not doing work. A different context, with much lower stakes, and I had the luxury of focusing first simply on helping students to learn to tell the truth, like "if you don't write the paper, don't tell me your dog died, explain to me that you decided to smoke weed with some buddies and spent the weekend playing video games. I want to hear the real story--tell me something good." Gaining trust was much easier in that context, and academic work is not a life or death matter the way addiction is.
It was different for me when I lived in the recovery community in Portland and started doing some work with younger guys in recovery--how often someone would seem to be doing well, got their three-month chip or their six-month chip, then suddenly disappear. I trained as a recovery coach and did a deep academic dive into what had been written about relapse (not much, BTW--it is an under-studied field, in my view), and I still haven't worked up my whole take on that, though I will try to write it out sometime. It seems to me that the lies are all lies that one tells oneself first--that the root of addiction is the way it hijacks the self and makes it a liar, and that all the lies that get spun to other folks become automatic over time, like it is easier to lie than tell even a benign truth. It's an impossible situation for friendship,, without the cloak of being a reporter or a coach or sponsor--some sort of formal role (as you note in this piece.) I made the mistake of blurring the lines with a couple younger guys, thinking of the relationships as friendships and the outcomes as betrayals. It's not useful--its a recipe for resentment and exhaustion, just as you describe. After I left Portland I actually decided to abandon ever working with people again like that--I basically retired from the business to write full-time. But I still miss it--it may not be a permanent break.
So I really get what you're talking about in this piece--you put yourself out there in a really deep way, caring in some ways more about your friends than they were able to care about themselves. It's just really hard, and great insight on your part to see and understand the toll you were paying for the work.
Your list of things about the surrounding context is ultimately where the action is when it comes to the problem of people who don't have a place to live and are afflicted with substance use disorder and often other maladies as well. I've been studying that for a few years now, on and off--the question of "what should be done." No easy answers, though I do remember writing a piece for The Commons at the start of the COVID epidemic about the fact that for the first time every unhoused person in Vermont had a roof over their head because of the hotel/motel program. How that worked or didn't work, and why it had to stop or be changed, is another story. Systemic probllems have to be looked at in systemic ways, and we're not really capable of that in political terms--far from it, indeed.
I hope this long note is not self-serving--I really mean it as applause for the completion of a great body of work, accomplished at considerable cost. Sometime I would like to hit you up for a conversation--with my new Susbtack I'm thinking of doing some reporting again, though right now it has to be online. I would love to talk in more depth with you about your experience and your insights, planning on using my page to talk about these issues in a series of pieces now that election fever is past. And sometime next summer I'll be back in Brattleboro and maybe we can grab a cup of coffee and compare notes then. I'd love to meet you in person. And best of luck with your new project--what a great concept! I'll look forward to seeing what comes next.
Thanks, Mac. Your response is particularly gratifying coming from someone who's "walked the mean streets" of homelessness, Brattleboro, and difficult writing. A lot I could respond to in what you wrote but (and) it would be good to see you in Brattleboro to compare notes. Give me a heads up as the summer gets closer. It's interesting to read (and I'm starting to try to avoid) the local FB groups. People see two entirely different Brattleboros. Some as an inner-city ghetto. Others as going through the latest rebirth in our little town's cycles—another in the ones you and I have seen for decades. Hard drugs add a major complexity to the mix. But welcome to America and if we can't find ways to deal with it creatively here, where can we? I do most of my head-shaking over the mean-spirited "othering" on both sides. Like I said, welcome to America. Since I wrote this piece I have ramped down significantly. I carry only singles. Made an exception for a mom visiting her two kids on their birthday. (I'm pretty sure she has two kids in custody and it was their birthday.) Even though I mentioned the "bandwidth" the project took up, I've been surprised at the additional energy I've had since I began to stop being drawn into their cycles of emergencies. BTW: Let's also talk Substack at some point. Best...
Compassion must include the self, otherwise it is incomplete.
It is so important that more people understand the often cascading events that lead to their situation. You help me to remind me, to observe my response to ‘street people’ and see what I could/would/should offer in response.
Hey old friend, I've wanted to comment of months, but I can say now that I'm so glad you have stepped back from a kind of dark place toward a larger world of possibility. I loved your writing about Melvin and the others - but as the child of an alcoholic I'm probably over sensitive to the consequences of enabling chronic self-destructive behavior. In the end we each follow our own path which, at least for some of us, can lead toward safety, happiness, health, you know, all those positive things addicts are cut off from. Be well.
Not hard to understand the challenges you’ve found yourself facing. But there’s so much not only super good and important information that you’ve shared, but also your heart. Both with your readers and all your street friends. Never feel bad about that particular lack of objectivity. Although, I get it — that’s not what’s bothering you.
Choosing “the light” at certain moments in our lives is pretty damn important. Knowing when those moments arrive sometimes takes everything in our history that’s led us to those moments. And simply a breath— of inner quiet.
I’ve truly appreciated what you’ve had to say. Plus, you’re an amazing writer. And, yes, I see each and every one of these people as lovable human beings with foibles, in some ways— just like me. Plus, a have a brother, who is in many ways—truly just like them.
Thanks for both your comments...but especially your acknowledging one of those phrases that looks easy but takes days to roll around in your head 'til it comes out right.
Thank you, David for all you have done and your reporting on it in such a wonderful way to read. Imagine how much you've learned about Bratt, yourself, the system and the grim nature of addiction. Thank you for sharing your journey. Deeply thought provoking. And I think you are brave.
Wow Dave. Good effort. Pretty brave. I've been sorry to remain at arm's length but I'm too much of a wimp (and too wise) to go there with you. Interesting social anthropology (for lack of a better category). I think I admire your willingness to get involved with sketchy circumstances and attempt to remain objective. Hard to do. Congratulations on your efforts.
You're right, (wimp and wise). I gotta say that the more you talk to folks the less worried you get And, hey, once people realize they might get money from you the last thing they want is you getting hurt!
David, your posts have helped me to at least to begin to understand, and to sort out my own feelings about, the seemingly hopeless situations on our (and everyone's) streets. I will miss your posts but understand your needing a break. I have told many people about your project, especially when the issue of homelessness comes up in conversation. You have started more conversations than just the ones you've had on the street--thank you. And for the record, you're not the only one who's irritated to see someone holding up a sign saying they're hungry while smoking a cigarette.
The other "sigh-provoking" reality is that if you give someone money for food, it'll probably go to the sweetest thing they can find. There are, however, alternatives for good food throughout town at different days and times. But nutrition isn't the top of the list for folks and I gotta say I can remember times when nicotine seemed more important than nutrition.
David,
I grew up in VT (Chester) and used to hang out in Brattleboro all the time. I went back many times even when my family moved to CT. Now I live in New Haven and volunteer with a organization serving people with Substance Use Disorder. I've heard every story about the lost ID, the promises to go to treatment or follow up on a lead I gave someone, or whatnot. Many people here in New Haven do come in and find sobriety and many sadly do not. I get asked for money here and there downtown enough that I take to having imaginary conversations just to get panhandlers not to ask. Compassion Fatigue? Maybe. It sounds like people like Chuck and others have an elaborate way of bypassing their trauma by foisting it on others. You've probably figured that out though.
David, I feel blessed to have spent time with Melvin. I hear your well-earned fatigue and the questions you are pondering.
I look forward to your new series.
I won't be in Brattleboro this coming summer, I hope we can meet again in the future.
Yes, I've caught glimpses of your wandering on FB (which I use less and less as I get more engaged with Substack for "serious" writing. The more people I meet the more Melvin begins to look like the crazy wise guy we think he is.
David,
This sentence you wrote really resonated with me: I’ve become, frankly, more pissed off than empathetic to my friends’ seemingly endless “emergencies.”
What you are talking about relates to how it feels when any of us try to generously help others and become overextended (this includes anyone, friends, family, someone in deep need, like the people you have written about). It's not exclusive to those who are homeless. I know this feeling well.
No matter who the people affected might be, it's healthy for you to recognize that when someone else is effectively drowning, they are uniquely unable to accommodate your boundaries, and that's ok. In fact, I think most people cannot do it. We're all this way (if we're honest) when we're in survival mode. But it's also ok to see that you also cannot be an enabler of a bottomless-well situation without guardrails. Because you (and they) are human. And all relationships require some form of balance and positive reciprocity to last. This need not require money or anything other than things like the fist bump, or 'thank you,' or hug you mentioned in your post. Of course, that can be enough.
The hard-earned lesson I learned was to tell people up front, 'Here's what I can do...and here's what I can't do.' I also found that the 'bottomless well' approach never works because people will take you for granted and resent you when you don't want to keep doing it (big shocker there, ha). In the end, we cannot be bottomless.
I know you and I spoke of this not long ago. I truly believe it's all about balance and defining up front what is possible and doable, so no one is left in the lurch. Otherwise, it's a moving target where you never get to celebrate the small wins or connection that comes with being kind.
So much of what I see in VT reminds me of putting out food for the birds in the summer and then taking it away in the winter. It is unfair to offer things this way. Hotel program, overnight beds, benefits that come and go. These are people. They are people with complex needs and it is nuts to treat them casually. Giving false assurance is wrong, even cruel. If we cannot offer things consistently, there will be no balance or stability for them. And without that, how do you ever get a leg up? Brattleboro is a small town, but it punches above its weight. We'll never win with a bottomless pit to fill. But if we defined our giving goals and ensured we could consistently meet them, I think the whole town would get behind it. We would have something clear to shoot for.
Thank you for your posts, for caring and for being a lovely fellow writer and human being.
Looking forward to your next posts in 2025. Best, L
David - I so encourage your break! Years ago I took a workshop called, The Rhythm of Compassion (based on a book by Gail Sheehy), which emphasized that to give out, you must equally take care of yourself. I personally have enjoyed your stories and have been amazed at your basic nonjudgmental attitude even as you are clear eyed about their predicaments, the sometimes self created, sometimes not causes of their suffering and the rarity of breaking free from it all. I appreciate your endeavors and persistence, as I don’t know that I, as a woman, could do that without feeling unsafe. I would be fine if you decided to change your focus. Your writing is whole - informative, introspective, humorous. Thank you!
From my own experience, David, I know what you are talking about. I have been there with similar folks. Don’t have any wise or other advice. Just understanding and compassion. Take a break!
Hi David,
You've shown yourself to need boundaries and self-care in different ways, much like the population and individuals who have become friends and familiar acquaintences. To move from being the Buddha with a dollar bill in hand or the Buddha with a pen in pocket is life wandering within. Even the Buddha needs a helping hand right.
I've only read two of your stories this being one, so I'm a little late to the good-bye if you will. I've worked in psychiatric hospitals in Detroit and community health centers in Flint. It's not for the weak of heart or spirit as you can attest. It will grind you down if you don't have boundaries, daily self-care and other ways to feed your soul.
I bow, offer my heart, to the Buddha in Brattelboro, a city in which I love and yet only visit 10-12 times a year.
The humanity in all of us needs a good reminding now and again of what it looks like in the mirror and that is what you have lived out internally and externally. A rare feat to be able to understand in vivo.
Namaste,
Bronce
David,
You write brilliantly about a very difficult subject, one that has given many of us headaches and heartaches. I don't know what "the answer" is except that there isn't "one", but you have described situations that have helped me understand just how difficult it is to "solve" the problems.
Thank you for your time, money, and thoughtfulness on this journey. Take a break, you deserve it.
David,
I don't think I've written to you to express clearly enough my deep admiration and respect for the work you have been doing. There's so much to respect, and for me the deepest element is your relentless candor and transparency, the sheer human-ness of every piece you do, including this coda to what is really an astonishing body of work. I've read many of your pieces as they've come out, first on Facebook, and then here, after I joined up with Substack myself. In my view they ought to be required reading for anyone who wants to understand the problems of homelessness, addiction, and the marginalization of people who are no different from anyone in meriting the dignity and respect that you pay them in your friendship and your writing..
You know that I shared a similar kind of engagement during the five years I was volunteering my time as a reporter for The Commons--I think I did five special projects between 2017 and 2022, and each was an entirely immersive experience for me. One of the things that always mattered so much to me was to give voice to the people I would interview--to let them tell their stories and treat them with the full dignity of their humanness. You have accomplished that in so much greater breadth and depth, and without the scrim of journalistic dispassion and objectivity, the eye as camera, not participant--you're a character in your own stories and they are richer for that. I really want to honor the work you have done.
I had to chuckle at your note about "paying sources" and writing it off--I worked out my own routine with Jeff Potter, where I would give someone a $5 and then after they took it, identify myself as a reporter and ask if they wouldn't mind talking with me for a bit. Often they just took the bill and waved me away, but more often not--people like to tell their stories. I have far more material on tape than I could ever use in print. A really complicated thing, because I had to assume the money would be used for drugs or booze. I was far from someone to judge--I had my own battles with alcohol, and only stopped reporting when I finally left Brattleboro and went into treatment. Sometimes a source would offer items for sale, as a point of pride or to gain a larger sum, and I did that once, paying $30 for a couple of items, then realized that they probably had been stolen. So I never did that again. It is a tricky business.
I really know what you mean about the burnout from constant lying and the uselessness of so much of the support and help one offers--I had that firsthand, working for decades with college students wirh ADHD who had perfected various strategies for not doing work. A different context, with much lower stakes, and I had the luxury of focusing first simply on helping students to learn to tell the truth, like "if you don't write the paper, don't tell me your dog died, explain to me that you decided to smoke weed with some buddies and spent the weekend playing video games. I want to hear the real story--tell me something good." Gaining trust was much easier in that context, and academic work is not a life or death matter the way addiction is.
It was different for me when I lived in the recovery community in Portland and started doing some work with younger guys in recovery--how often someone would seem to be doing well, got their three-month chip or their six-month chip, then suddenly disappear. I trained as a recovery coach and did a deep academic dive into what had been written about relapse (not much, BTW--it is an under-studied field, in my view), and I still haven't worked up my whole take on that, though I will try to write it out sometime. It seems to me that the lies are all lies that one tells oneself first--that the root of addiction is the way it hijacks the self and makes it a liar, and that all the lies that get spun to other folks become automatic over time, like it is easier to lie than tell even a benign truth. It's an impossible situation for friendship,, without the cloak of being a reporter or a coach or sponsor--some sort of formal role (as you note in this piece.) I made the mistake of blurring the lines with a couple younger guys, thinking of the relationships as friendships and the outcomes as betrayals. It's not useful--its a recipe for resentment and exhaustion, just as you describe. After I left Portland I actually decided to abandon ever working with people again like that--I basically retired from the business to write full-time. But I still miss it--it may not be a permanent break.
So I really get what you're talking about in this piece--you put yourself out there in a really deep way, caring in some ways more about your friends than they were able to care about themselves. It's just really hard, and great insight on your part to see and understand the toll you were paying for the work.
Your list of things about the surrounding context is ultimately where the action is when it comes to the problem of people who don't have a place to live and are afflicted with substance use disorder and often other maladies as well. I've been studying that for a few years now, on and off--the question of "what should be done." No easy answers, though I do remember writing a piece for The Commons at the start of the COVID epidemic about the fact that for the first time every unhoused person in Vermont had a roof over their head because of the hotel/motel program. How that worked or didn't work, and why it had to stop or be changed, is another story. Systemic probllems have to be looked at in systemic ways, and we're not really capable of that in political terms--far from it, indeed.
I hope this long note is not self-serving--I really mean it as applause for the completion of a great body of work, accomplished at considerable cost. Sometime I would like to hit you up for a conversation--with my new Susbtack I'm thinking of doing some reporting again, though right now it has to be online. I would love to talk in more depth with you about your experience and your insights, planning on using my page to talk about these issues in a series of pieces now that election fever is past. And sometime next summer I'll be back in Brattleboro and maybe we can grab a cup of coffee and compare notes then. I'd love to meet you in person. And best of luck with your new project--what a great concept! I'll look forward to seeing what comes next.
All the best,
Mac
Thanks, Mac. Your response is particularly gratifying coming from someone who's "walked the mean streets" of homelessness, Brattleboro, and difficult writing. A lot I could respond to in what you wrote but (and) it would be good to see you in Brattleboro to compare notes. Give me a heads up as the summer gets closer. It's interesting to read (and I'm starting to try to avoid) the local FB groups. People see two entirely different Brattleboros. Some as an inner-city ghetto. Others as going through the latest rebirth in our little town's cycles—another in the ones you and I have seen for decades. Hard drugs add a major complexity to the mix. But welcome to America and if we can't find ways to deal with it creatively here, where can we? I do most of my head-shaking over the mean-spirited "othering" on both sides. Like I said, welcome to America. Since I wrote this piece I have ramped down significantly. I carry only singles. Made an exception for a mom visiting her two kids on their birthday. (I'm pretty sure she has two kids in custody and it was their birthday.) Even though I mentioned the "bandwidth" the project took up, I've been surprised at the additional energy I've had since I began to stop being drawn into their cycles of emergencies. BTW: Let's also talk Substack at some point. Best...
Compassion must include the self, otherwise it is incomplete.
It is so important that more people understand the often cascading events that lead to their situation. You help me to remind me, to observe my response to ‘street people’ and see what I could/would/should offer in response.
Hear, hear!
Hey old friend, I've wanted to comment of months, but I can say now that I'm so glad you have stepped back from a kind of dark place toward a larger world of possibility. I loved your writing about Melvin and the others - but as the child of an alcoholic I'm probably over sensitive to the consequences of enabling chronic self-destructive behavior. In the end we each follow our own path which, at least for some of us, can lead toward safety, happiness, health, you know, all those positive things addicts are cut off from. Be well.
David,
Not hard to understand the challenges you’ve found yourself facing. But there’s so much not only super good and important information that you’ve shared, but also your heart. Both with your readers and all your street friends. Never feel bad about that particular lack of objectivity. Although, I get it — that’s not what’s bothering you.
Choosing “the light” at certain moments in our lives is pretty damn important. Knowing when those moments arrive sometimes takes everything in our history that’s led us to those moments. And simply a breath— of inner quiet.
I’ve truly appreciated what you’ve had to say. Plus, you’re an amazing writer. And, yes, I see each and every one of these people as lovable human beings with foibles, in some ways— just like me. Plus, a have a brother, who is in many ways—truly just like them.
PS: "...my veneer of radical acceptance has begun to crack" is a brilliant phrase
Thanks for both your comments...but especially your acknowledging one of those phrases that looks easy but takes days to roll around in your head 'til it comes out right.
Thank you, David for all you have done and your reporting on it in such a wonderful way to read. Imagine how much you've learned about Bratt, yourself, the system and the grim nature of addiction. Thank you for sharing your journey. Deeply thought provoking. And I think you are brave.
Wow Dave. Good effort. Pretty brave. I've been sorry to remain at arm's length but I'm too much of a wimp (and too wise) to go there with you. Interesting social anthropology (for lack of a better category). I think I admire your willingness to get involved with sketchy circumstances and attempt to remain objective. Hard to do. Congratulations on your efforts.
You're right, (wimp and wise). I gotta say that the more you talk to folks the less worried you get And, hey, once people realize they might get money from you the last thing they want is you getting hurt!
David, your posts have helped me to at least to begin to understand, and to sort out my own feelings about, the seemingly hopeless situations on our (and everyone's) streets. I will miss your posts but understand your needing a break. I have told many people about your project, especially when the issue of homelessness comes up in conversation. You have started more conversations than just the ones you've had on the street--thank you. And for the record, you're not the only one who's irritated to see someone holding up a sign saying they're hungry while smoking a cigarette.
The other "sigh-provoking" reality is that if you give someone money for food, it'll probably go to the sweetest thing they can find. There are, however, alternatives for good food throughout town at different days and times. But nutrition isn't the top of the list for folks and I gotta say I can remember times when nicotine seemed more important than nutrition.
More than money you gave them kindness and for that I salute you!
Thanks…I think Sophie is probably glad I'm stopping! Although Elmer might have been a little intrigued...hope all is well.