<p>Mafool - you are probably right, a woman could be dangerous, but that doesn’t worry me as much.</p>
<p>Owlice -
I have had several chapters in my professional life. In the early chapter, I worked with students with social and emotional difficulties. One of my assignments was the adolescent center where I met with all the “bad boys.” When I was young I drove them to appointments, outings, etc. I went alone to homes to track down kids, meet parents, etc. Some of my early clients have turned out to be rapists, arsonists, killers. As I got older, I started to realize that just because I liked “Johnny” or “Billy”, it didn’t mean I was safe. </p>
<p>My career has evolved for lots of reasons, but i think when DD was born, I crafted out a more flexible but also safer career. I remember seeing something on tv about Ted Bundy and thinking, I would have been oh, so helpful if I had ever come in contact with him. </p>
<p>I resolved to be a little more cautious and that I would never give any men a ride. </p>
<p>That said, I still assume goodness in people. I am helpful when I think someone needs help. When our church opens its doors to the homeless in the winter, I stay overnite with our guests, I haven’t created a wall between myself and those in need. But I have become a little more cautious.</p>
<p>I typically don’t give out money anymore… I have no idea what people would use it for. I heard about United Way’s 2-1-1 line (google to see if it’s active in your area… I think it’s nationwide, though). It’s a free call, you just dial 2-1-1 the same way you’d dial 9-1-1, and it connects you with the United Way hotline. I printed up pamphlets about the hotline and keep them in my briefcase to hand out to people who ask me for spare change. It really sorts out the people who are in trouble from the people who aren’t. The people who just want money get very frustrated… The people who need help look like they’ve had a whole world open up to them.</p>
<p>One time, though, I was in my hometown with my dad and stepmother walking into a restaurant. I planned to meet some friends at a neighborhood bar later. As we were walking into the restaurant, a panic-stricken woman ran up and gave us a sob story about not having enough gas to get to a city about 40 miles east where here mother was going into congestive heart failure, and that her boyfriend wouldn’t drive her there unless she came up with some gas money, and she lied with such fluidity and ease that we listened to her, stunned, for a while. I kept a calming tone of voice, offered her some comfort, and took out my wallet and handed her ten dollars. She asked for my address so she could pay it back. I told her no, but to remember this when she saw someone else in trouble next time. She thanked me again and ran off to her boyfriend’s waiting truck. “You know that everything she just told you was a lie, right?” said my dad, who was clearly not going to give her any money and was confused as to why I even gave the woman my time. “Yes, but that was my beer money. Now it’s her beer money. She looked like she could use the beer more than I could,” I said.</p>
<p>That’s the only time I’ve given money in recent memory, but I knew full well what I was doing.</p>
<p>I have often contemplated in my wicked moments the idea of buying a bunch of $5 gift cards to Starbucks and when I am greeted by someone who would like a little money, I could give them the gift card. I sort of enjoy the vision of a couple of these chaps heading off to Starbucks and sitting around and enjoying their lattes.</p>
<p>I usually offer to take people asking for money to a gas station for a sandwich or to give them a ride to where they say they’re going. When they insist that cash is the only thing that will help them, I leave.</p>
<p>I have often contemplated in my wicked moments the idea of buying a bunch of $5 gift cards to Starbucks and when I am greeted by someone who would like a little money, I could give them the gift card. I sort of enjoy the vision of a couple of these chaps heading off to Starbucks and sitting around and enjoying their lattes
.
In my neighborhood the coffee shops have tables and chairs on the sidewalk ( even in this weather), and I often do see those who appear to be homeless sitting and drinking coffee. The nice thing about the coffee shops is that you can sit and chat for hours. Because we dress * casually* in Seattle, they only stick out because they don’t usually have a laptop.
;)</p>
<p>The difference in the cases I can think of – where I’ve picked people up – is that they were not in situations in which they were looking to be picked up. The woman walking up a big hill in my neighborhood didn’t have her thumb out; it just looked like she needed a ride, and I was right, she did! So I gave her a ride. The guy earlier this week wasn’t looking for help; he didn’t even know he needed it. I’d seen the pannier on the trail; he hadn’t yet missed it. Driving along some years ago through the agricultural center, which is very open (so not shaded), it was obviously what the man with the gas can was doing: walking in the blazing sun back to his car. </p>
<p>If someone approaches me for help – and yes, I’ve heard the same “I need to get about 40 miles away” stories – that sets off my radar, but a stray pannier on the biker/hiker path? That guy was in lycra and sweating!!</p>
<p>BTW, about the Kitty Genovese case - I am reading “Superfreakonomics,” and one of their stories is about the Genovese case, and apparently that the notion that 30 people stood around and watched as someone got stabbed isn’t quite true – that indeed the police were called promptly, but took a while to show up.</p>
<p>My mother was an ER nurse in a fairly tough area, so I think she learned how to overcome fear. I used to want to die of embarrassment when my mother would “jump in”, now I do the exact same thing. </p>
<p>Training also plays a part. I see that with the military because not only are they trained to go into dangerous situations, they are trained exactly what to do and to process it post-crisis. Over and over again until it becomes rote.</p>
<p>Sometimes people don’t want to get involved because they don’t want to be intrusive. I hate being approached by strangers, unless it’s for directions, so I tend to respect others’ space and privacy. Also, it’s different being a woman. I just feel more vulnerable getting involved with the homeless men in my area, but my H will talk to them freely and has gotten to know them. I will drop a dollar into someone’s cup but I don’t want to engage them in any way. I’ve been harrassed by enough strange men in my life not to know better.</p>
<p>What I don’t understand are people who won’t speak up in completely harmless situations, like when someone has left something behind on the bus. (I must say that NYers perform extremely well on this.)</p>
<p>I think NYers are overall involved when something out of the ordinary happens – they are willing to speak up and to help. They may keep to themselves much of the time, but fall down the steps or blackout on the subway, and help is right there in the people around.</p>