Yesterday, I was waiting for the bus to go home when I saw three street cops stroll on by. They looked tough, as most Seattle cops do: Bully club on one hip, gun on the other. They sauntered past in an air of superiority [which annoyed me] with one had on their guns and their two eyes scouting the people around them.
At that time, a homeless man from across the street jaywalked right in front of the cops. The three cops immediately stopped the man and began to ask interrogating questions and yell at him. It made me SO mad because if I were to jaywalk in front of them, I highly doubt that the cops would have yelled at me like they did that homeless man. I felt as if the cops were taking advantage of the fact that this man was homeless. Instead of treating him like the true human being that he is, they treated him like dirt... and it made me really angry.
[Since working in Seattle, I've seen a lot of people treat the homeless like crap. And that is just not ok. It's not right. Regardless of their circumstance, they are still real people. So, we should treat them how we want to be treated.]
But then reality threw a curve ball...
About ten minutes later, my bus rolled up and I got on... and the same homeless man that jaywalked, followed me on the bus and sat down across the aisle from me.
It wouldn't have been a problem at all except that he began talking to me... about money.
[Now, I do have this one rule... I don't give out money to anyone on the streets because I'll never know what they actually use it for. Food is different... but I won't give out money.]
My perception of this man completely changed the minute he started talking and asking for bus money. I noticed that his eyes were completely blood shot, like he'd just gotten off a drinking binge. He also clearly lacked cognitive thinking and was unable to link two complete sentences together. He stumbled through his explanations and could barely form the words with his mouth. But the more alarming issue was that he couldn't seem to control his anger. And that scared me a little.
You see, I told him I didn't have any cash to give him.
He instantly got angry and began cussing up a storm and called me a liar and other names that don't have enough value to repeat. I tired to tell him I only had a credit card and that it wouldn't help him. That made him even more angry.
The unfortunate part was that I did in fact have cash with me. But I had an intuitive feeling that the man may have followed me on the bus and would follow me home if I gave him money. If I didn't give him money, he'd have to get off in the Ride Free zone, which is many freeway miles away from my home. I wanted him to get off. I wanted him to stop talking to me. Because of his inconsistent outbursts of anger, I was scared that he'd do something rash. And the worst part about it was that we were sitting in the back of the bus with no one else around. I had one stop to go until I knew others would get on the bus and could step in if something bad happened.
Fortunately, he seemed to realize that I wasn't going to give him money and he became calm again. He even apologized, said he hoped that he hadn't upset me and told me to have a good evening. But then he'd ask for money again. I'd say no. And he'd get angry again. This cycle happened several times.
Finally, we got to the next bus stop and more people got on (including one man I always see and who also gets off at my stop near my house... his familiar presence definitely put me at ease. I knew that it'd be OK now that he was there). I was able to tell the homeless man that I was sorry about the money, wished him an enjoyable evening as well, and then turned my iPod on as an attempt to drown out his continued random smattering of words.
Two stops later, he got off the bus.
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One man. Two experiences. Two completely opposing perceptions.
Reality is hard to figure out.
Perhaps the cops where simply trying to get the concept through the man's head that its not ok to jaywalk. Perhaps they weren't treating him unjustly. Then again, perhaps I'm just a naive girl who got scared for no reason at all.
And that's the thing... I'll never really know the truth about this man, where he was going or where he's been.
I'm simply left asking what am I supposed to do with these two stories? How am I supposed to make sense out of them in my mind and heart?
I don't know.
