The doorbell rings. My dog starts barking his head off.
“Maximus! Shut up!” I yell because it’s easier than getting up.
The TV is on. My wife and kids are out and I’m closer to a nap than I have been in weeks; I don’t feel like talking to people right now. I muster up the energy to roll off the couch and sneak up to the front window to peek through the blinds. I’m hoping that whoever is outside doesn’t notice and assumes there is nobody home. As I do, I see a big brown truck pulling away from the sidewalk in front of my house.
“Thank God! It’s UPS!” They are without question my favorite kind of visitor. They don’t want to come inside, they never stay late, and they always bring a present.
It occurs to me that having a house, a door, and a window with blinds, all give me the power of deciding who I talk to and who I don’t. It’s my call. If I looked out and saw a door-to-door salesman or an evangelist of some kind, my door gives me the autonomy to just opt out. My space allows me to decide whether or not I want to ignore the person on the other side until they get the “message” that this homeowner isn’t interested, or to open up the door and engage with whoever is outside on my terms. My door, my decision.
Unfortunately, when it comes to our homeless neighbors, we don’t often give them the same power to choose who they allow in and who they don’t. Most homeless folks don’t have the luxury of a door to stand behind or a window to peek through. Many people just assume that since they are sitting on a sidewalk or sleeping on a subway, they are fair game to just walk right into their lives without so much as a “hello” or “how are you doing?”
A few years back, I was sitting on the floor of Penn Station chatting with a new friend who I had met as I was passing by. An older white lady stopped abruptly when she noticed us sitting down against the wall. She looked directly at my new friend and said very aggressively and without any preamble, “My church feeds the homeless outside every Thursday and we are outside right now. You should come. You need it!”
She didn’t say, “hello.” She didn’t introduce herself or ask for my friend’s name. She didn’t even find out if he was homeless before making the cognitive leap that he would benefit from her church’s efforts to help “the homeless.” My new friend handled the interruption far more graciously than I would have. He smiled, and even thanked her before explaining that he was doing just fine and wasn’t hungry at that exact moment. She clearly didn’t anticipate or appreciate this response because she rolled her eyes in disbelief and walked away without saying goodbye.
If someone just walked into my house without knocking, ringing the doorbell, or initiating any other means of announcing his or her intentions, I would call the police. So if you are thinking of doing outreach to men and women experiencing homelessness, please at least give them the opportunity to say “no thank you” before launching into all the ways that you think they need your help.
If you want to start off on the right foot, knock first. Ring their doorbell before walking into their living room.
You can do this by simply making eye contact. Smiling. Saying, “hi.” Ask the person how it’s going. If they ignore you, cuss at you, or look the other way, just assume that maybe they are like me when someone comes by to sell me window treatments: either no one is home or that they just don’t feel like making conversation.
My experience tells me that most folks who experience homelessness are desperate to be seen, acknowledged, and cared for. Most of the men and women I have encountered, when given the opportunity to connect or not through simple greetings or basic introductions, will run to the metaphorical door to throw it open and invite you inside. The painful reality for most homeless folks is that by and large, very few people ever drop by for a visit.
So, when you do outreach, or when you see someone panhandling or sitting on the sidewalk that you’d like to talk to, just knock first. Don’t try to help someone before you know if they want you to even try. Advice that is unsolicited is almost always ignored.
Make a friend, then make a difference.
