With powerful search engines spawning tidal waves of data, we are in a restless search for responses that will create an optimistic future for our children. For those of us who worry about vulnerable children in high-risk families, the search is especially urgent.
Since “neglect” is a major entry point into the Child Welfare system, we make assessments and scan case notes on the family environment.
The mystery of how impoverished families patch together their income is one focus of attention. Is there any stability in gathering together the public benefits of food stamps, social security, Medicaid, and unemployment insurance; hourly wages from part-time work; and infrequent child support payments? At times, the case record reveals a short, sharp summary: “This family is destitute.” This carries an ominous message: the family is broke, penniless, poverty-stricken, and possibly homeless.
Consider these observations as background for the current campaign urging us to stop giving to panhandlers. Instead, we are asked to “Give Real Change,” by supporting the community agencies that are committed to providing comprehensive help to end homelessness and hunger.
Interestingly, the mighty search engines are scouring the data landscapes for definitions and measures of “poverty.” As a contribution to planning for families coming into the Child Welfare system, this is an inquiry in the attempt to stabilize their income support.
Here is a modest proposal for a definition of “destitute,” widely considered as the bottom rung in the poverty scale. Consider this measure: what do certain Walgreens, Dollar Stores, Cubs and Rainbows keep under lock and key? Would you be surprised to learn that Tide, diapers, baby formula, sanitary napkins, and pain relievers can only be delivered on personal request? Of course, only the stores that serve low-income communities have these products under protective custody.
Now we come to a sharp observation: to be destitute means to suffer a series of humiliations. But perhaps the most painful circumstance is to be without cash. Here are some circumstances that require cash: bus fare, having a load of wash for the Laundromat, buying aspirin for a severe headache . . . scraping pennies and nickels together, but still short . . . that is the meaning of “destitute.” In sum, the measure for poverty should include an understanding of what that condition means for day-to-day survival.
Now let us reconsider the current controversy on whether panhandling is misguided charity. We recognize that under certain circumstances, we could all be vulnerable to economic disasters, leaving us penniless.
Will giving a buck or two to the person holding a shaky sign in the midst of treacherous traffic undermine “responsible community agencies, devoted to real change”? Think again: give when you can and however you can.
So very true, Esther. Recently I was stopped at a red light at the end of a highway off ramp. I burly man stood there holding a sign that read “Please give what you can so I can eat.” I grabbed my purse, fetched out a bill, and give it to him. “Thank you,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. The light changed, I turned left. My friend traveling with me said, “Why did you give him so much? It could be scam.”
I replied: “We don’t know what his back story is. If it was me, I’d hope someone would help.”
“Right,” said my friend.