September 22nd

Let's change things up a bit - this is a journal entry I wrote for one of my classes... we were asked to reflect and write about how things are going this semester with no real specific guidelines so this is one that I came up with just to offer another view of what I'm experiencing in Chicago. 

Walking down the street, with my headphones in to block out the sounds of the city, I try to avoid the awkward moments of people looking at me or asking for money, or even just that moment when you are face-to-face with another on a crowded sidewalk and have to do that odd side-step dance to figure out which way the other is going. I realized today that I have found myself quite oblivious to the city around me when I’m walking – I don’t appreciate where I am. I am aware of the people, buildings, and general traffic around me, but I don’t take the time to realize that everyone here has a story – they aren’t just one of the masses, they are an individual with something to say.

I think what spurred on this train of thought was that while I was walking down the street listening to my iPod, a song called “Rich Young Ruler” by Derek Webb started playing. “Poverty is so hard to see when its only on your TV and twenty miles across town…” That phrase stuck with me all day. It’s true – that’s where I was until coming to Chicago. I live in one of the wealthier suburbs of Des Moines and poverty just isn’t really an issue that gets brought up. I’ve seen my share by traveling to an Indian Reservation every summer for the past six or seven years, and its been an eye opener every time I return and there is another house boarded up or another set of families forced to move in together to survive. However, at the same time, it’s nothing like actually living in a city where poverty is a daily encounter.

Living in Chicago for around two weeks now, I have “gotten used to” it – the panhandling, the street musicians, and even seeing the men and women sleeping in corners or on park benches. But it’s not something I want to get used to. I feel like it should be something that impacts us every day. I struggle deciding who I give money to, or if I should offer to buy the woman sitting near the bus stop a sandwich at the corner bakery.

Where do you draw the line? We are called to serve and love “the least of these” for we are all God’s children. Do we do so blindly, not worry about what the man in the subway station will buy with the two bucks you just tossed in to his guitar case, or do we try to pick out the “good ones?” I think this will become a topic that I will face every day as I frequently run into people in need, as does anyone walking around Chicago. I knew it was going to be something that I would have to learn to deal with, but I didn’t realize what a struggle I would have. I long to help each person who asks, but at the same time I despise the idea of handouts. Even back in my little suburb, we have a few men who are always there asking for money.

These men are actually quite well known in my suburb – they live under the interstate bridge and stand on the corner of the on/off ramps every day. I think these men have tainted my idea of handouts because a few years ago a few friends stopped to talk to them. According to two of the men that they met, there is a group of five men who take turns standing on the corner – usually each one has a day of the week, and these men have jobs, homes, cars, and some even have families, but they take advantage of the generous handouts they can get by wearing some old clothes and standing on the corner. Apparently at the end of each week the men would pool their large amounts of money and drink and gamble it away over the course of the weekend to just start all over again the next Monday.

I know not everyone is cheating the system in this way, but it just makes me very wary of those who appear to be in need. It’s a silly excuse, but I feel like I only have so much money, and if I’m going to give it away… I want to actually help someone – and not just help them feed an addiction or something. Maybe it’s my own pride, the fact that I don’t want to play the fool, or my own greed. I guess I don’t know for sure, but like I said before, I’m sure it will be something that I face daily over the course of the semester.