Ripples

Last night I went to Birmingham with three of my friends to do one of those live escape room things. On my way to meet them I saw a homeless man asking a passer-by for change. I gave him some without him even asking me. This made him very happy.

Once we'd met up, on our walk to the venue we were asked for change by two more people, one of whom had a pretty badly cut eye and was trying to get to the hospital. We gave them change.
"That's two for me today", I said.
"Six for me", said one of my friends. He'd been in London. I couldn't not hug him.

Over the course of the night we passed countless other homeless people, apparently making their way back from a soup kitchen, traipsing through the darkening streets with backpacks and that blank, straight-ahead gaze that said that tonight wasn't going to be easy. It'd just started to rain. None of them asked us for change - apparently there's something of a stigma attached to begging, even among the homeless. To sacrifice your dignity by asking strangers for change you have to be REALLY desperate. After the event we sat in a bar and discussed how we were all noticing more homeless people since I met Denise on Tuesday, and how that wasn't because there WERE more... we were just finally seeing them.

We also chatted about what they spend their money on. One friend said that he always tried to give food rather than money if he could to ensure that they weren't spending it on booze or drugs. I've changed my opinion on that since watching the Filthy, Rich and Homeless series. I mean, if you were sleeping in doorways and being hated by 90% of the population every day of your life, wouldn't you want a beer or two? Wouldn't you want something to numb the pain? To brighten the day somehow, even if it's in a self-destructive way? I honestly don't think it's my place to judge anyone's life choices when it comes to that sort of thing. I have the odd drink or two and my life's pretty bloody sweet.

And we chatted about how far our collective new attitude has spread in just two days. My original post has now been viewed by people all over the world and I've had countless messages from folk saying that it's changed their opinion on homelessness and how they'll make a point of not ignoring it any more. Of trying to help in some small way. That blows my mind a bit, considering that I almost didn't meet Denise at all. When I got off the tube on Tuesday there was a train back to the Midlands leaving just five minutes later but my feet hurt from walking and I didn't fancy racing down a platform to catch it so I decided to go outside.

Two tiny casual decisions - mine to go outside and Denise's to make a point of talking to me - have had a ripple effect that's spread across the globe. Only tiny ripples, obviously, but ripples have a tendency of spreading. I hope that they do. I hope that people don't forget. That Denise's story will lead to a genuine change in psychology and unconscious habits, not just a week or two of giving out a bit of spare change, then lapsing back into old ways.

And that's what's made me write this today. We've woken up this morning to a Britain in disarray. Regardless of how you voted, everyone is a bit scared and looking at an uncertain future with wary, weary eyes. In times of economic unrest it's the poor who suffer the most. If you've got food in your tummy and a roof over your head then appreciate that and don't let your fear turn you into a selfish person. You're better than that. We all are.

I've decided to write Denise a letter and keep it in my bag, just in case I ever meet her again. I want to thank her for talking to me the other day and to let her know about the effect that her story's had on so many people. I want her to have something tangible, not just another story but something she can re-read and keep. I want her to know that because of her there are homeless people in the Midlands and L.A. and countless other places right now getting a little extra change to make their days just that tiny bit better.

More than anything, though, I want her to know that I tell her story as proudly as the ones she tells about the Gallagher brothers. That she's famous and because of her, in many tiny ways, the world is a better place. She's in MY collection of Interesting People.