Center Console Dollars

Center Console Dollars

I used to occasionally give money to panhandlers who stood at intersections and freeway offramps. But then their numbers increased so much I got tired of the constant decisions about the few who got a gift and the many who didn’t. So, I took the easy way out and stopped giving altogether.

But that solution left me constantly feeling unsettled. It was hard to just keep ignoring so many people in need. And then I remembered a solution I enjoyed back in the days when I walked to work through downtown. At that time I was getting asked almost daily for money and I felt conflicted because so many addicts were walking the streets. So I rarely gave, and just like the present, it didn’t feel right to constantly deny those who were suffering.

I called my solution “Back Pocket Dollars.” Since I usually carried my money in my front pockets, I made sure I always put a few dollars in my back pocket to give to those who asked. In my mind, I was transferring ownership of these back pocket dollars to the next person who asked, so it didn’t matter if they were going to buy booze or drugs, because it was their money anyway. That habit resulted in some truly life-giving interactions with our city’s poor. To read more details about those experiences, see my old post, Back Pocket Dollars.

So now back to the present. In response to the needs of the many panhandlers who inhabit our intersections, I decided to budget thirty dollars each month for this need. I go to the bank, get thirty one-dollar bills, and stick them in the center console of my car. In my mind this act transfers the ownership of that money to those I see standing there with their cardboard signs. I just automatically give a buck to the next person I see.

This is really fun. Since I’ve already let go of the money, and I’ve also let go of any evaluation of the “worthiness” of the panhandler, I actually get a little excited when I see someone standing there as I approach the intersection from a distance. By the time I reach the intersection I’ve already opened my center console, pulled out a dollar, and rolled down my window. So, right as I stop, I happily thrust the money out the window and watch as the person approaches. It’s so cool because I‘m happy about this interaction and my eyes are focused on the face of the person taking the money. They see only kindness in me; not pity or judgment. It’s fun to see some of them let go of the bitterness, or humiliation, or sadness they are feeling in favor of returning my smile with kindness of their own. They say, “bless you,” or they thank me with a smile. Many don’t look so grateful, and they barely make any eye contact. For those, I’m grateful I’m one less person who sees them as less, or lazy, or bad. They get enough of that. It feels good to offer a little dignity to those who rarely feel it.

To me, all humans are just as worthy of love and respect as any other person, and I love finding ways that free me to offer that love and respect. My center console dollars do just that.