Riding the Metro accomplishes several things. You quickly and (relatively) cheaply get to your destination. You see Parisians and tourists alike navigating the city with characteristic aplomb or awkwardness, respectively. You get to have existential dilemmas on a nearly-hourly basis. All for a few bucks a day.
The dilemmas ensue from the presence of:
- men apparently living in the Place d'Italie stop with their bottles of booze, cigarettes and dogs
- women pulling their children from car to car, begging for "change to feed my baby, please, please"
- the sport-coat clad mentally ill man who got more beer on his shirt than in his mouth both times we saw him riding the #5 train
- various street musicians in stops and on trains
My girls immediately made the connection to the people we used to see at the 161 exit off 71 South (for Columbus-ites). The light at the bottom of the off-ramp is long and most people are turning left, so they're stuck sitting for two minutes. That light is a prime spot for an array of people asking for food or money with cardboard signs. Once in Paris, the first time someone hopped into our train and launched into a sob story, Olivia said, "Oh, it's just like the guy at the stoplight with the banana." I'd forgotten that he had a bunch of bananas by his side, all those months ago.
What to say about each of these people? I walk the line, trying to explain who they are and what they are doing. Then I give my opinions and ask the girls what they think. It's a very PC type of parenting that's done these days that makes me feel uneasy. I hope I'm giving them enough information to make their own decisions, but I believe much of your core values come directly from your parents, so am I truly helping them form their own opinions or am I just brain-washing them to be like me?
Personally, I'm astounded that people give money so freely to these people. It seems clear to me that the woman skipping from car to car asking for money is making good money at it, coin by coin. She's fairly clean, moderately shabbily dressed but certainly not in rags, and she's obviously going to beg from us, then at the next stop move up a car and beg from them. At the end of the line, I presume she'll turn around and repeat in the other direction. Something about this feels disingenuous. It feels like we're being taken advantage of. To my American sensibilities, it feels unnecessary. I feel there are social programs and agencies that can help these people. To go from car to car like this feels like a shameless ploy, playing on our sympathies. I don't hand out coins. I don't know what they'd purchase. I'd rather share food with someone who's hungry. But this isn't my country and culture, so I don't know what help is appropriate. I do feel that giving out a coin here and there wouldn't be the end of the world, but I wonder if it leads to the pickpockets and scammers we see at every tourist destination.
Back home, charity is easier to sort out. I set aside certain sums for various organizations, supporting friends and family in charity events and helping people when I feel someone truly needs it. I don't hand out money in the street, but I'll roll down a window to hand someone some food, which is always at hand in my car, thanks to my annoying blood sugar problems. But here, my instinct is to freeze up since I don't truly know, or feel, what's necessary and what's superfluous. I'd rather be stingy than feel taken advantage of. Besides, people around me seem to hand out coins much more frequently than I've ever seen at home, so clearly the system is in equilibrium without my participation.
Bryan once gave the girls each a coin to give to a trumpeter who played very skillfully. After that, anytime they saw musicians, the girls reached into their pockets. I had to occasionally press them to not give out the 1 and 2 penny coins, handing them a 50 cent piece instead. So I guess that's my boundary. Sob story--no. Musical training--yes. I feel that I can understand and recognize the work a musician has put into learning his or her instrument. But giving money to someone who puts on a sad face and tries to play on my sympathies using their most distraught-sounding voice, well, that just isn't something I will do.
These things always bother me. In the past, it was because they raised questions about duty and fairness that my younger self found challenging to reconcile. Now it's because my priority is with my children. Let's not sugar-coat it, having kids changes everything. You're never the same. So now my first focus is to make sure my children are safe. After that, I try to educate, entertain and challenge them. If I have time, energy and resources beyond that point, I can indulge in the bigger questions. But, in truth, these days my focus is just getting us onto the train and to our destination. I help those I'm responsible for and don't choose to push the envelope beyond that.
So this is our stop kids. Now hold my hands so we can hop off this train.
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