March 15, 2011 (image representation only)
I was heading to work this morning, waiting at the traffic lights to cross from Town Hall to Galeries Victoria in the middle of the city (Sydney), when I saw a rough-sleeper kneeling with his hat out for loose change from the people waiting to cross the street. To my dismay there was a circle of 'no-mans land' between him and all the people... no-one would stand near him. At first sight before I saw the man, I thought there to be a busker inside his circle of admirers, but once I got to the lights it became evident the circle was one of avoidance, not celebration.
Everyone had already formed their decision about whether the person deserved their small change... their revulsion stark and blatant: yet there was such misery in their deflected faces, such angst in their self-depricating rationale not to give, such determination not to step inside the 'circle' and be confronted with the man's plea. These weren't people short of a few coins: there would have been at least 30 well dressed commuters waiting to cross the road - suites, dresses, brief cases, watches - and not a solitary coin went into the man's cap.
I found whatever change was in my pocket and offered it, saying hello... his appreciation evident: yet I couldn't help thinking it all too easy to flick a coin and go on my way.
Many of my friends won't give to people on the street: they have all kinds of reasons why... I don't understand a society that's so blatantly greedy: to have to grasp at every small piece of change. What's $1 or $2 in the scheme of things? There's such a immense number of people sleeping rough in Sydney at present.
I'm sickened with the blatant denials of so many, pretending to be distracted by something more needy of their attention. When I reached into my pockets for some change for the man, I heard a snigger from someone close-by as they found justification for not having to part with a coin.
Today I saw something quite ugly : the spirit of people in denial of their gifts, of their potential, of the true value in giving.... I wanted to scream at them :- huddled in their safe little group. Instead the pedestrian light changed to green and the ticker gave it's signal to hurry across.
The rich commuters could all forget the man they saw on their way to work, sitting in the gutter, asking for a coin from their pocket. Some would even deny he was there at all: others will remember that someone else took care of it, as a whisper on the wind quietly soothed their minds into complacency.
