thilly thenny

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I just got home from groceries and stopped by the gas station on the way.  As I pulled up, a young man- probably around my age- came up and asked me if I needed water or air in my car.  When I responded that I didn’t, he asked if I had change.  Promptly, I replied that I did but to wait until I was done.  Without thinking about it, I pulled the coins that were in my purse and dandily handed it to him.  He was super polite.  I smiled.  Then, we parted ways.

So far, nothing out of the ordinary.

Then, I started thinking about all the times I had said no to the black people who asked me for money at the gas station near my place.  No matter how much they sweet talked or begged or looked supremely ragged, I tended to say no.  This man, on the other hand, was white, blond and I think blue eyed.  He seemed like a vagabond or hippie or hitchhiking student on his way to find himself.  He had nothing but a ordinary backpack, and although he seemed clean, his hand were filthy.  Why did I say yes to him?

(Aside: I don’t always give to homeless people, but every month or so, I’ll prepare a bag of change or a couple of dollar bills to hand to the homeless, when I stop at a red light.  I’m adamantly against short-term aid and have no idea how they spend that money.  That gift is more for my sense of altruism and self/morality than any particular benefit to that lucky individual.  Instead, I tend to put my charitable gifts towards Save the Children or Greenpeace.  It goes along with the whole idea of teach a man to fish versus just giving him fish to eat. Point is this is the only time I’ve given money.)

On the 3 minute drive from the gas station to apartment, I suddenly got stuck in a moral dilemma.  Am I more trusting of a while man than a black man?

I learned from a race study quoted in Blink that there was inherent/subconscious racism in all of us.  What’s was a human tool for discriminating between two things became an instinctive reaction: white = good; black = bad.  But I always prided myself in being fair.  Sure, I make crude jokes every once in a while, but I also brag that my friends are of every race, nationality, religious belief and sexual/gender identity.

I started to rationalize.  Of the countless homeless people/beggars who asked me for money over the years, this blond man was the less assuming.  He seemed aware of himself and didn’t act deserving of the money I was handing over.  Yes, he could be a drug addict from a middle class family, but he could also be educated and exploring a la Christopher McCandless of Into the Wild. On the other hand, if he was, then why am I giving money to someone who doesn’t necessary need it versus someone who does?

Maybe it’s because he reminds me of a college friend who decided to go to Baltimore and become homeless during spring break one year.  He is always interested in seeing things from other perspectives, and chose Baltimore because he didn’t know the city and heard the homeless weren’t as territorial as in D.C.

Whatever the reason, whether race-related or through extrapolations in my mind, I feel a bit unsettled by my actions.