A friend of mine, X, lives in a town called Y. She resides in a relatively egalitarian neighbourhood that is a far cry from the faceless “gated communities” that are so popular with certain segments of the middle class. The houses are older, made of solid brick and in possession of true character. There is a good school nearby and an eclectic shopping district. There are also the bums.
The bums stir awake underneath the rhododendrons and greet the homeowners as they step off their porches on the way to work. Sometimes they bang on windows and doors after dark. They’ve also been seen breaking into cars and homes, and an older man was recently thumped over the head and robbed while taking a nap in his den.
The majority of these people need help. X’s neighbours, however, do not believe in help. They believe, first and foremost, in making themselves feel good. A case in point: a bum named Z has visited X’s property twice in the last few weeks. Both times he did this when X’s husband was away on a trip, which makes X believe that Z must be watching the house. Each time Z cornered her and demanded money, loudly, while waving his fists. If she didn’t comply, Z intended to harm her, he made that much clear.
Fortunately, Z was severely inebriated during both of these encounters, and X was able to outwit him and get to safety. Unfortunately, X’s neighbours will not take her seriously when she says that Z has threatened her. To them, Z is a “gentle creature” (much like a pet they like to keep around) incapable of doing harm to anyone. They continue to give him money – money that he then spends on drugs and alcohol. They insist that he is “welcome” in the neighborhood.
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X is sure that the person who broke into her car recently was Z; he was angry following her refusal to give him money, and vowed revenge. X had initially offered to feed Z, and/or take him to a shelter, but Z wasn’t interested, only insulted, and so he just called her a “bitch.” Z is an addict, and the neighbourhood is fueling his addiction. Z is also a master manipulator; he knows which people he can charm and/or move to pity.
A no-nonsense woman like X is a threat to a person like Z. One of X’s relatives was, once upon a time, addicted to cocaine. X knows not to encourage addicts, but X’s neighbours do not. A couple of these families have their own stories of addiction, but their experiences have influenced them in the opposite way. These particular individuals believe that if only they can be “friends” with Z, he will be inspired to change his life. Sooner. Or maybe later. Or at least eventually.
Others support Z because it’s easy, and there is instant gratification involved.
Now that Z has established himself in the neighbourhood, others have followed. The streets are no longer safe at night. For her part, X has become a pariah to her neighbors; they have called her “heartless” for not willing to be “charitable” to Z. The neighbours refuse to believe that their “donations” have encouraged crime.
Giving money to an addict is never a good idea – as anyone who has ever had a relationship with a chemically dependent individual can testify. The thirty bucks you give an already drunk and high man on your lawn just to make him go away (and to have your neighbors pat you on the back and tell you what a “kind soul” you are) – can very well kill him. Your money may finance an eventual overdose.
Enabling another person’s addiction is much easier than refusing to deal with them until they shape up – but this is what X and her family had to do when confronted with a coke-addicted relative, and it eventually worked. X’s neighbors have offered to help Z, but he has yet to take them up on their offer. Nevertheless, they allow, and even encourage his continued presence in the neighborhood. They claim that Z is simply “not ready,” but that “one day, he will be”; meanwhile, the fact that Z can be dangerous when suffering a psychotic episode is a non-issue to them. Admitting that Z is a liability would shatter their image of themselves, the one they see reflected back each time Z’s face lights up following yet another “transaction.”
There is also something eerily condescending and patronizing about the way that X’s neighbours treat Z; they compare him to a “little kid,” they say that he is a “cute old man.” Their interactions with Z are a kind of game, and they are playing the heroes.
The woman that lives across the street from X claims that Z is no longer using money to buy drugs and alcohol, after Z fed her a story about finding a sick puppy that requires pet-meds. The man stumbles up and down the street while having a conversation with the traffic, but he is certainly not drunk, nor high, nor mentally unstable in the eyes of his benefactor. “He’s just being himself!”
X has contacted a local social worker that has an entire file on Z. The town Y does have a modest support system for the homeless. Some will inevitably fall through the cracks, but the majority of them have a small chance at improving their lives. Z has tried to go straight once upon a time, but begging turned out to be easier, and he always, always found people to indulge him.
The town Y has become polarized, on one hand, there are people who claim that Z and his ilk are practically subhuman, on the other hand, there are the likes of X’s neighbours. Being caught up in this situation has been no picnic for X, whose neighbour from across the street gives her dirty looks as she washes her car in the driveway. After all, X is the face of unabashed privilege: with her own vehicle, her own house, a steady job, and a loving husband.
It’s just too bad that simply handing Z a wad of cash and walking away will not help him find a home or heal.