Strangers need love, support too

Ingrained fears prevent students from engaging Columbia's homeless

By: Paul Bowers

Posted: 9/8/08 - Pleading the fifth

A close friend recently made a remarkable observation: As children, one of the first things we learn to fear is people. Before we shy away from the deep end of the swimming pool, and before we know better than to pick up wild animals from the ground, we know that guiding maxim: Don't talk to strangers.

There is of course an element of self-preservation in this folk wisdom, but its tragic side effect is that, even as adults with developed faculties and an active sense of compassion, we are reluctant to help a stranger in need.

I see evidence of this nearly every time my classmates are approached by a homeless person. Here is the scene: A group of friends is walking down the sidewalk when a man wearing everything he owns enters their path and requests a little cash. The students' response is to huddle closer and quicken their pace.

Later, they will offer rational explanations. "He was just going to spend it on drugs," they'll say, or "He was looking at my girlfriend funny." But the truth is that they were afraid - afraid of the unknown, afraid of inconvenience and afraid that their society really could allow someone to sleep on concrete when there is abundant space indoors.

I am not suggesting that we should hand out cash indiscriminately or walk in dangerous places after dark. In fact, it is probably best to carry only a debit card when you're walking through the city. That way, you can legitimately tell people, "I don't have any change to give you, but I can buy you lunch."

Try it once. The next time someone asks for help, treat him or her to a meal. Sit down and eat together, and just listen. You will hear stories that will change your mindset about poverty - and at this point, the person will have no reason to lie.

This summer, living on the South Side of Chicago, I heard countless stories of this nature. I met people who were beating addictions to crack cocaine, seeking reconciliation with their families and getting back on their feet after calamity struck. The common thread I noticed was that none of them did it on their own.

This Saturday night near Five Points, I met a man who came to Columbia from New York five years ago and immediately found himself out on the streets. Today, he owns his own business. Looking out the window at a woman waiting for food, he told me, "If you don't help her, I will."

This man is glad to be back in America's good graces, but he refuses to forget that he didn't make it alone. People need a hand to pull them up sometimes.

For Christians especially (and I know you are all over this campus), it should be obvious that God rarely pulls the manna-from-the-heavens trick. When He chooses to bless us, He almost invariably does it through other people.

We can all be a blessing.