After seeing beggars on the streets of Nairobi, I don't give to the homeless here, where we may have inadequate services, but we still have them.
When I worked in DC I was approached by a homeless woman, who was obviously pregnant, and had a toddler in a stroller. She told me how she had missed the food truck, I felt bad that her kid was going to go hungry so I gave her money. Two days later I saw her at the liquor store arguing with the store owner who was refusing to sell her booze because she was pregnant.
Then there was Charlie. He was the panhandler who worked the block my store was on. He'd come in on average 3-4 times a day to trade in his change for bills. He was making $60-100 a day, which was more than I was earning. But he was obviously schizophrenic, he had completely lucid days and others that he'd sit around talking to people who weren't there. There was no way he could hold a job without serious meds. Whoever ran out to grab lunch for the store would take his order too, we all pitched in and bought him lunch everyday. He had an apartment somewhere and didn't sleep on the street.
Now I have the rather terrifying issue that my father is homeless and living in a shelter. He has uncontrolled bipolar disorder, the meds don't help for long, and he's just a very nasty person to deal with. There's really nothing my family can do to help, he's tapped everyone out. It's just sad. But I worry about him often.
When I worked in DC I was approached by a homeless woman, who was obviously pregnant, and had a toddler in a stroller. She told me how she had missed the food truck, I felt bad that her kid was going to go hungry so I gave her money. Two days later I saw her at the liquor store arguing with the store owner who was refusing to sell her booze because she was pregnant.
Then there was Charlie. He was the panhandler who worked the block my store was on. He'd come in on average 3-4 times a day to trade in his change for bills. He was making $60-100 a day, which was more than I was earning. But he was obviously schizophrenic, he had completely lucid days and others that he'd sit around talking to people who weren't there. There was no way he could hold a job without serious meds. Whoever ran out to grab lunch for the store would take his order too, we all pitched in and bought him lunch everyday. He had an apartment somewhere and didn't sleep on the street.
Now I have the rather terrifying issue that my father is homeless and living in a shelter. He has uncontrolled bipolar disorder, the meds don't help for long, and he's just a very nasty person to deal with. There's really nothing my family can do to help, he's tapped everyone out. It's just sad. But I worry about him often.
