The phrase “Cash is king” is as true for people on the street as it is for politicians and Wall Street investors (who call it “liquid assets.”). They, as much as any self-respecting Buddhist, live in their “Now”—i.e., they are focused on getting what they need ASAP. From a sandwich, a pair of boots, or a prescription co-pay1 to, of course, cigarettes, liquor, and hard drugs.
I gave some $10 Co-op gift cards to people, figuring the worst that would happen is they’d sell them for $8. But at least someone would eat. Well, I know at least one person who bought a $10 gift card for $5, so you could kind of say I lost 50% on that investment.
If I had wanted to make sure the person I gave the $10 to got some nutrition, any nutrition, I would have been better off buying them a couple of pints of ice cream. At least that would have melted before they could sell it. Or I could have bought us both a sandwich or piece of pizza and sat on the bench with them while we ate. I’ve done both.
There are plenty of other examples of this kind of currency conversion on the street:
Shortly after I bought a tent for Isaiah on a cold December day, I found out that, as soon as I was out of sight, he returned it for store credit, (somehow without the receipt) and sold the credit for cash.2
One time Jake tried to “pay me back” a little of the lot of money he’d “borrowed” by giving me a gift certificate for a local restaurant that allegedly a well-meaning woman had given him. He said he didn’t want a sit-down dinner. I told him to get takeout. And, if not, sell it to someone who really needs it. I knew he wouldn’t use the money to pay me back anyway.
Then, there are the myriad of broken promises. Often well-intentioned. Two weeks after I gave Raymond the $20 he needed to take a bus to a DMV twenty miles away I asked him to show his new ID to me. He said he hadn’t quite figured out how to get there. I suggested hitchhiking. (Hey, I’d done it on that road when I was his age.) Many people have told me they were going to get a job at someplace or other but never applied. Or never followed up. And several times I’ve bought gas for people who didn’t go where they said they would. Maybe, the car they borrowed broke down. Or they suddenly needed something else more urgently. I’m used to that. But when they don’t use that gas to go to a scheduled visit with a child in foster care…even I find that one troubling.
Then there are the stunningly creative and manipulative outright lies that have fooled more savvy people than me. But we’ll get to them in detail in another post.
Still, theoretically (and sometimes practically) I don’t blame people for wanting cash. We tend to think that if people have food, clothing, and shelter they’re all set. But what about cough syrup? What about “feminine supplies”? What about a marker to write on that cardboard sign? What about the cost of a temporary ID? (If they can manage to get one). What about a phone? What about a phone card? What about filling their propane tank? What about a tarp to go over their tent? What about a flashlight? I’ve given my friends money for all these things and—from the tarp I’ve seen over the tent to the text I received after they got their phone—I know they bought some of them.
Kenny insists that he acquires all these things in dumpsters and other places where they are abandoned by people who don’t know what they are worth. He often points out that people simply aren’t skilled enough to live on the street. And he’s right. But that’s not going to help someone today. Or tonight. Or probably tomorrow. Unless they have a little instruction from Kenny and are on as good terms with the police as he is.
Maybe one of my friends should try having a listing on their cardboard sign of things they need along with prices. E.g., Propane $5+; phone card $10+; flashlight good enough to find your tent in the dark $15+; motel room after the vouchers are used up $40 [shared]); They could cross each one out as they get that much money.
To give credit where it is due, the Economic Services Division in Vermont does help with some of these needs. And there are caseworkers who can give people the assistance many need to figure out the paperwork. (I sure would. It’s complicated). But there aren’t enough caseworkers and demand far outstrips the supply. Plus it often requires advocating for yourself and following up on a determined basis—which, honestly, many of my friends are not good at.
True Confession.
So, I’m afraid I must confess that, after eight months of trying to master street economics, I can’t guarantee that the money I give will go where I’m told it’s going. Although I can reassure people who have bought subscriptions that your dollars—and a lot more! have been used as promised. [And have encouraged me to keep engaging with people and write these pieces.]
Still, I suppose that if you’re determined that your money provides verifiable tangible benefits, it’s best to give it to a nonprofit. Or do what I do, and strike up a conversation before giving any money to anyone. At least you’ll make a connection…even a friend. And, in that way, maybe you’ll both get something of real value.
What if people are just given money to get back on their feet?
I focus on individual (rather than systemic) issues. However, I did come across two interesting articles about experiments in which agencies gave cash directly to people. $7000 in British Columbia and similar amounts in Denver. Preliminary results indicate that this approach can indeed help some people secure housing and jobs or job training.
I’ve written about the trials and tribulations of Medicaid. And will write more.
That’s why he included a PS: “Sorry about the tent” when he wrote me from prison for shoplifting. Well, several people have told me that going to prison for a little while and having forced detox (with Suboxone) was the best thing that’s happened to them. Although sadly it hasn’t doesn’t seem to have helped Isaiah much yet since he got out.