Day 2: Supporting the Street Solicitors

We all know who they are and why we run from them. They stand out in public places trying to get people to talk to them about all kinds of causes: Greenpeace, save the rivers, save the rainforests, stop bullying, planned parenthood, lobster empathy, let plants vote…ok, the last couple I made up. But it’s possible someone out there is fighting for these.

I try to evade the awkward situation by avoiding eye contact, but somehow I seem to be a solicitor magnet. They find me even when I try my best to hide in a big group of people. They always want me to talk to them. Ugh. I then have to come up with a reason I cannot. Sometimes I just give a smile and continue on. If they ask me if I support something, I’ll say I do, but then keep walking. My most used is “No thank you, I don’t have time.” This usually works best if I already look busy and in a hurry. If I can see them coming, I’ll pull out my phone, check the time, and walk briskly.

It’s not that I don’t care about the causes they seek support for, it’s that I get annoyed by them bothering me…especially when it’s the 3^rd or 4^th time that day.

There is an area of downtown Denver called the 16^th Street Mall. Many cities have these public areas that are pedestrian only. They are street solicitor meccas. There was one day not too long ago where 8 different groups fighting for some cause approached me for support. Annoyed? Yes. By the last few I didn’t even give a smile. It was more like a scowl.

The thing is, I have not actually stood and listened to what they have to say. I don’t really know what they are fighting for or what they want from someone like me. Yesterday, I knew I was making the trek all the way down the length of the mall and decided I was going to stop and listen to what they had to say. All of them, even if there were 8 groups. As I approached the first group, not very far into my journey, I had dread in my stomach and thought about just reverting back to my same tactics.

I didn’t. I talked with a young woman from the Nature Conservancy. She spoke to me on the topic of saving the waters of the Colorado River – a river we, in the West, depend highly upon on for not only drinking water, but life. I know how big of a deal water rights are in the West and know it’s only going to become more important as the years go by. I understood what they were trying to accomplish. In the end, she asked me if I wanted to sign up to donate $1 per day.

I politely thanked her for explaining to me their cause and what their goals are. I told her I appreciated how difficult their role is, especially when so many people don’t give them any time or respond with rude remarks. I explained it was not something I was able to donate to at this time and wanted to do some more research on the organization before making a contribution. She smiled and genuinely thanked me for taking the time to listen and understand, and hoped I would consider Nature Conservancy when I am ready to donate.

I walked on. It was strange. I expected there would be an abundance of solicitors out given it was a beautiful day and getting close to the lunchtime rush. I saw none aside form the ones I had spoken to. That was easier than expected. I had set out to talk to all of them, and I only had to talk to one. Divine intervention – someone trying to save meJ

Then, it hit me. Aside from the street solicitors fighting for their cause, are the people who sell a newspaper called the Denver VOICE. I also see them whenever I do that walk, but they do not interfere with anyone. They will hold up the paper and ask for support for the homeless, but are not trying to actually solicit anyone to come talk to them. I passed a number of vendors. I made up my mind I would buy a paper in support, but was uncomfortable approaching.

At one busy street corner, I saw a man and woman talking. I noticed he was holding a copy of the paper and had a lanyard around his neck announcing he was a vendor for the Denver VOICE. On the sidewalk below him sat an opened umbrella, placed purposely on top of a blanket. It was all for a small dog who was sitting attentively, with what I swear was a smile on his face. A few toys, a bone and water dish were scattered about in front of him. I looked down briefly and looked away trying to block the image as I stepped into the road to cross the street. I made it to the other side and turned my head around to face the scene I had just passed.

My heart always breaks a little when I see a dog on the sidewalk with someone who I can only presume is homeless. I thought I was over this. Travelling to foreign countries where dogs roam the streets freely, some healthy and some not, I felt like I had an acceptance that most of the world doesn’t view dogs the same way we do. They are able to survive in so many situations. Dogs here are likely no different, but we assume because they are on the street, even with an owner, they are less loved, less cared for.

As I looked back across the street I realized I did not know this man. He and his dog are probably really happy. Who am I to judge? I stepped back into the street I had just crossed fighting my way back through the crowd rushing in the opposite direction. When I reached the sidewalk, I walked up to the gentleman and the woman standing next to him. I found myself looking at her and her professional attire wondering what connection she had to this man.

I smiled and told him that I would like to buy a copy of the Voice. The suggested donation is $2 but I handed him $10. I wished I could give him more, but it was all I had. I asked him if he was out here every day and he gave a jubilant “yes!” “Me and my dog. Everyday. We like to make friends.” The woman standing next to him agreed he was resilient and a hard worker. I knelt down and asked if I could pet his dog. He told me to go ahead. The dog was friendly. He was.

After standing back up, I asked him some questions about the Denver VOICE and if it was associated with the Denver Rescue Mission. He told me it was an independent paper. He explained how happy he was to be promoting the paper and the good it is doing. He said this month’s issue was excellent and I would enjoy reading it. I thanked him sincerely for giving me reason to support him and told him he was an inspiration. His smile consisted of just a few teeth on either side of his mouth. Then he said to me “I am thankful for the opportunity to be out here. I am thankful for my life and the life of my dog.”

I told him I’d be back for next month’s issue after which he replied he’d be right here. Walking back across the street, I couldn’t help but smile excited to read this month’s issue. A few tears welled up. Happiness.

 

On a side note – I learned that the Denver VOICE is distributed solely through homeless, impoverished and transient individuals. It gives them an opportunity to earn income through what is called the Vendor Program. The vendors can buy the papers for $.50 at the distribution center. This covers the cost of production. They then turn around and sell it for $2.00, essentially making a $1.50 profit. They go through an orientation and training. Fortunately, many people give more, which goes directly to that particular vendor. That means the gentleman, whose name I must get next time, was able to earn $9.50 from my contribution.