You know that first day you wake up after having the stomach flu, and you're suddenly aware of how amazing you can feel, just because it's morning, and your body is right again? That was me, Saturday morning. I trekked through the frigid wind to the gym to take my favorite yoga class of the week. It was wonderful as usual and left me feeling stretched and floaty all the way to Potbelly. Almost. As I approached the corner where I would get my lunch, a man with a sad, worn face asked for my attention.
"Ma'am," he said, "my wife and I are very hungry. I don't want any money. If you could just get us a couple pieces of pizza from the place over there..."
I am almost always happy to share food with the hungry. I'll hand over my to go box, get an extra order of fries to bring outside, etc. This man asked only for pizza. I thought about what it must be like to survive on greasy fast food, anything cheap that will keep you full long enough. I had a better idea. So I smiled, and said, "You know, I'm going into Potbelly to get some lunch. I can get you and your wife a sandwich."
Then it happened.
The man said, "No. I want pizza."
My brain attempted several times to process this.
I needed more time. I walked into Potbelly to get my food and think this over. But before I could get farther than the line, I noticed the man was behind me. He asked again for pizza. I reminded him that I offered to get him a sandwich and still would. He looked at me for a few seconds, then moved on to someone else.
The woman behind me in line gave me the sympathy eye. While we waited to order, we talked about the situation, and neither of us knew what to make of it.
See, I don't judge the homeless, and I don't ignore them. When I worked a day job in the loop, it pained me to see the man on his knees by the train, the one with the dog on Madison, the ones I saw every day. I see faces where some see inconvenience.
But suddenly, my moral balance was thrown.
On one hand, a man asked me for one thing, and I only offered him something different. Was I a bitch for only offering to help him conditionally? He still deserves his preferences even in a desperate situation. Maybe I shouldn't have been so insensitive or in such a hurry. Maybe I should have walked down the street to get him a damn slice of pizza.
On the other hand, a man asked for food, and without any question, I offered him a healthy, complete meal. Is someone in his situation really in a position to be that picky? Maybe so. He knows his situation better than I do. But is it right for him to ask for conditional help?
I know very well that in this case, questions of "should" and "right" have no answer...
I left Potbelly with my food, feeling very strange. Most exchanges with the homeless/hungry are simple: they ask, they do or do not receive, and we both move on. Never had I attempted generosity and ended up so confused. In fact, I started to feel the opposite of generous, for neither myself nor the man ended up feeling good about the exchange. But if the generous act had been dictated, it wouldn't have been an act of generosity, which is I think what stopped me from getting him pizza. Maybe the man's attitude had moved him from the 'asking nicely' category to the category of those who press for money, the ones that leave me uneasy because they warp the act of kindness.
But should that matter? Should my preference that the exchange be kind, should my morals have interfered in feeding the hungry? Me, who doesn't judge and does what she can... perhaps... judged and withheld?
We think our morals will get us through any situation, and they do--until they can't answer the question of what is right and wrong. Sometimes, something draws us in or turns us off, and we have to go with our gut to answer a question. And sometimes, there's more than an answer to a question at stake, and maybe then we're supposed to set aside our morals and just help each other through.
I still don't completely know what to make of the experience, and I don't know that I ever will. I don't know if I'd do things differently if I had the chance to do it again, and I don't know what I'd do if it happened again in the future. I think I'll just carry this one with me for a while and see where it leads...
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