My Karen Moment -- Stop Blaming a Trope for What's In Any of Us

It was my 15-minute break from in-home teleworking a fast paced online job and all I had time for at the Tex-Mex place down the block was a soft drink from their fountain.

I was there to get away and chill, more than for the beverage.

Out the window, a man passing by on the sidewalk bent down to look deep into a trash can for a second or two. Then he entered the restaurant.

He hadn’t reached into the can; I didn’t automatically take him for destitute. Nonetheless, he came to my table and outright asked if I could buy him a bowl of beans from the counter.

It’s that moment when we all feel tested, and when we scan the collection of stock response lines available. I could have said, truthfully, that I had to leave in two minutes. Or, that I didn’t have the money (not actually the case). Or just: sorry, I can’t.

Then there is the completely truthful response: There are churches up and down this street which I know for a fact will give you much better food right now, or vouchers for a neighborhood supermarket. The Metro Government Center a few blocks from here will get you all sorts of help. In downtown, there are four shelters or aid centers that serve free meals every day.

All that’s a lot to impart to a person in the two minutes I had. And beyond this info, I was aware of my time pressure -- and the realization that buying him a bowl of beans (and, let’s be real, whatever he would add to it as we would walk down the serving line) won’t change his situation like those nearby social services very well could.

With all this running through my mind, the response that came out was not me at my best. It could even have been viral material for a vigilant iphone user who doesn’t care about context.

“No,” I said, starting off in a low key that immediately catapulted into an annoyed, eye-rolling, “I can’t.”

What I was frustrated by was the lack of attention to really addressing the problem of neediness. But, honestly, was that all that bothered me at that moment?

I got up to half-refill my cup for the short jaunt home, but in earshot of an employee servicing the fountain, I mumbled, “Why can’t I just enjoy a coke for 15 minutes!”

Contrast this with a woman at the next occupied table pleasantly telling this man, “Sure, I’ll buy you a bowl of beans” and getting up to do so.

It's not just for women any
 more: (Never was)
 

Yep, I’ve long said the “Karen” notion is a wrongheaded genderizing of an issue. And had someone been videoing this, I could have fulfilled my wish of de-genderizing that folk character who represents cold elitism.

Who watching would know that I have paid for medicine for people in line in front of me at drug stores when their card didn’t go through. Who would know that when I won $15 worth of food for answering a question right on a radio call-in, I immediately took two-thirds of it to a shelter.

Moreover, who would know that when I can adequately verify a person’s claim of need, I’ll help them if I can. People with whom I have become acquainted from years of bus riding have received bus fare and food from me, because I can trust them.

As a longtime pedestrian in my city (I’ve owned no car for the last seven years and I walked a lot for many years longer than that), I’ve seen plenty of good in people, but also have learned every insincere line.

In my more innocent days, I walked by two children who asked me for bus fare, only to instantly and with no shame take the money I gave them, turn around and gleefully run into a food mart to buy candy. They saw no need to conceal their scheme even long enough for me to walk on beyond their view.

In more recent years, I have realized that outside CVS drug stores, which do not sell cigarettes, I have never been asked for money from someone saying they need a little for their prescription medicine, whereas outside Walgreen’s, which sells cigs, that’s happened multiple times. And when I have offered to supply the cash they requested -- inside at the prescription counter -- the person walked away without comment to take his pitch to someone else. (I principally blame cigarette companies for his plight, but that’s for another blog entry.)

Some of my frustration during the soft drink break originated in me, not out on the sidewalk. Those of us who are policy wonks sometimes feel exasperated because no one is hearing us -- the nuance, vetting and system wide response we know are crucial to solving problems take a back seat to “feel good” anecdotal acts.

Though I stand by my belief that with so many accessible services so close by it was not cruel to turn the man down, I’ll admit that the episode shows that I ought to rein in my overthinking. In the spirit of the Will Rogers’ line: “I’d rather be the person who bought the Brooklyn Bridge than the person who sold it,” I could gain some peace from just allowing people like that woman at the next table to risk making their own errors.

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                           Brian Arbenz lives in Louisville, Ky. USA