From time to time even I assist others in need, not just TO's emergency workers. Now granted, I am a nobody, just your average Joe citizen. I have no special training, no exemplary budgetary resources, not even good eyes with which to recognize all of your facial expressions for I am partially sighted. And yet I find that I help more than the rest of you, even those with 20/20 vision which is surprising. At least that is my judgmental egotistical perception. But is it true? And how do I know? And most important of all, does it matter whom renders assistance as long as the problem is solved? What am I talking about? Helping those whom might be homeless or merely so poor as to be walking around downtown with a palm outstretched asking for "spare change".
Long ago when I was a child, a man helped me out tremendously. I was lost. My grandparents took me to an opera and I promised them I wouldn't get lost so I went to the bathroom by myself. Might sound not that important but do recall my vision problems. It is so limited that even with +17.00 prescription lenses, and most of you wear maybe +2.50 glasses, so do note the difference, I can hardly read giant street signage on Toronto's streets, let alone a book farther than a palm from my face. It's a real disability even if our government does not exactly recognize it as such believe it or not. This aside, I did my business and wanted to return to my grandparents' seats to continue the show with them. But alas, my brain forgot if I turn left or right at a pillar or at the stairs and so I wound up on another floor of the venue! Scared, out of my mind, I almost began to cry. I was terrified out of my skull! Never was I so lost as in that very moment. I saw around me thousands of people walking about, all moving with purpose. Shaking hands, laughing, having a great time. And yet there I was, a little man all on my own, lost, nearly crying. I didn't know whom to ask for help. I must have had a very easy to guess expression on my face for a man graciously looked down towards me and offered me help. He took me back to my grandparents after speaking with me politely, and all was fine. I saw the rest of Swan Lake, and we went home. This is what I imagine being homeless and begging for change is like. Except, well, nobody helps you to find your seat. You are constantly stuck with that expression of needing help, and every day the same people keep laughing and having fun and enjoying life, but not helping out. Seems strange for a set of people whom pride themselves of peacekeeping, compassion, and empathy, doesn't it?
Maybe TDOT's streets aren't as mean as New York City as depicted in Hollywood movies. Maybe we don't have 31 varieties and kinds of gangs, maybe we don't have a subway that wriggles more than a worm after the rain. But y'know, I even begged for change for a while and nobody gave me a single penny, back when Canada still had red cents. Why would a man with a disability ever be forced to beg in the world's best society, voted by United Nation's to be the envy of the whole world, is beyond even my intelligence quotient. But fear not I am now the one helping the homeless, not you, oh my Eagle Eyed bretheren! Me, a blind man, I'm helping others. I'd almost sing "What a relief, it is!" from a certain cartoon flick if it weren't such a serious problem though.
Today, I saw an elderly man begging for change near the Jersey Giant. It broke my heart. I shed more tears walking away from him realizing I actually, for once, had no change to give. Usually I keep track, mentally, on what corner I gave what change to whom on what day. It's just a little internal thing I can do, having spent years composing music and dealing with thousands of notes and hundreds of layers, something like that is simple for me to do. For example, there are corners where I know for certain what homeless person and even what attire of theirs will be near them. This is just basic intuitive learning from walking all over the place out of poverty. You see, I have been forced to walk even in minute thirty degree weather since becoming a citizen thirty years ago. Could barely afford TTC tickets, even thirty years later. This is not a complaint, just stating reality of how we, the disabled, are treated. For a while there was some government assistance and I was even given free Metropass from social services. With it I was able to attend Tae Kwon Do classes for three quarters of a year. But when that assistance was voted out of favour, I had to discontinue the only social activity I had available to me. Kinda hard to go from downtown to Eglinton without a bus ticket, you know?
But this man was begging for change, was elderly, didn't speak a word of English, it was maybe the fiftieth time I had seen him begging, and there was an extreme weather alert. I noted with my low vision eyes how everyone, including the youngest and the most beautiful in our society ignored him and almost saw him as a nuissence. So I did the only thing I could. Went to Metro. Bought bananas, and took out a $20 from Interac cashback. My weekly grocery budget is just over $35. And when I went to give some cash to the poor elder, he was gone! I couldn't believe it. He didn't stand still! What was I to do? Just now, hours later it occurred to me - it's freezing standing around in extreme weather conditions, d'oh! So I walked all over, crossed the street, and eventually found him accidentally and gave him some change. I am not writing this to toot my own horn. It isn't a demonstration of good family values. It is a request to anyone reading this. If you see people in need, in obvious need, not some philosophical hair splitting thing whereby you have to consult an oracle to grasp what and if they need help... if you see people in winter in need of warmth and money - lend them a hand. Give them what they want, not what you think they want. If a man wants a beer, buy him one. If he wants change, help him. It's way better than getting drunk with your buds. Believe me. It's better for us all. In the end, there will be more of us to get drunk together, eh.
No comments:
Post a Comment