By Kenny Hardin
Texas Metro News
https://texasmetronews.com
I’ve never been confused with the popular classic animated or live action movie character, The Grinch, in skin hue or amount of bodily hair. But after an encounter with a homeless individual at a local big box office supply store last week, my inner green monster manifested. The original tale of the cynical calculating creature originated back in 1966, a year after I was introduced to the world, but my similar hard heartedness, like he had for all things Christmas, has been festering and growing more recently.
Unlike the Grinch, whose heart grew three sizes when he finally realized that Christmas wasn’t about presents and decorations, I had a reverse aging thing going on. Whenever I’m at a stop light, sitting in my car in a parking lot, or trying to enter a business and I’m accosted and pressured to give money, my heart shrinks in size. I know it’s not the politically correct or accepted societal norm to speak ill of those less fortunate and in this situation, but I’m at a breaking point. I’ve even noticed online they don’t use the term homeless any longer and its referred to now as the unhoused. Well, I’m no stranger to rubbing people the wrong way so I refuse to cave to pressure for fear of hurting feelings when I’m the one being put in an uncomfortable and awkward position. They are homeless to me, a nuisance at times and can be irritating.
My disdain for those street corner hustlers didn’t just begin last week. For years I’ve complained and written articles about the scourge at the local post office. Many times, as I’ve pulled into a parking slot, I’ve been greeted at my window by those who’ve opted to annoyingly solicit funds. Even when I’ve politely declined to donate to their cause, I’ve been met with profanity and veiled threats. I’ve had female post office patrons share with me how they’ve been followed, cornered and demanded to give. I made an attempt to speak with post office leadership and was unceremoniously blown off saying it was a city law enforcement issue. I reached out to the Police Chief and late Mayor and was told it was a post office issue they had to own. So while the problem twists in the wind of a local Bermuda Triangle, people like me have to play adult dodgeball with them just to exist in the business arena. I was so frustrated with the post office’s dereliction of responsibility, I closed my business PO Box and haven’t entered a facility in over a year.
As I approached the entrance to this staple office supply business, I heard the sounds from a deep booming voice waft towards me asking if I could spare a few dollars. I’ve conditioned myself to not even look up or respond as I’ve taken the mindset of the late comedian Robin Harris, “You want some spare change, how about you go get a spare job.” I can feel my heart shrink a little more as I envision people criticizing me for being insensitive to their plight. Well, let me rub you the wrong way harder. I don’t give money to people standing at intersections holding crudely made signs. My feeling is if you can withstand extreme temperatures for several hours daily in the winter or summer, you can apply for a job and stand at a machine. There are places, programs and organizations available to assist, so my pocket change is not going to make the difference they can.
Kenneth “Kenny” L. Hardin is the founder of the Veterans Social Center and alumni member of the National Association of Black Journalists.
