To Give or Not to Give? Begging the Question

50 New Yorkers reveal their thoughts about panhandlers!!!

Hello everyone,

Welcome to Issue #133 of CAFÉ ANNE!

Golly. I got a big response to last week’s Q&A with David Roberts talking about what it’s like to be a (very) rich person in NYC. And readers posted many follow-up questions for David in the comments, which he was kind enough to answer. I thought it’d be fun to share them here:

Reader Tara P: David, I’m curious about the picture that I will tactlessly call Spaghetti Noodles, just behind the center of your desk.

David: Those are actually photographs by an artist named Vic Muniz who creates installations, often inspired by other artists. They are far, far less costly or valuable than the real thing, but I think they have wonderful depth.

Reader CK Steefel: How many Broadway and off-Broadway shows do you see per year?

David: Not too many for me. Maybe 2-3. But my wife and younger son Michael love theater and go all the time. Michael is on the junior board of the Public Theater. It's his real passion. And my wife has a group of friends she goes to theater with pretty often.

Reader Mary Beth: David said most wealthy people were not introspective. Why did he end up introspective? Nature? Nurture? If he thinks it was nurture, could he give details?

David: Both! I think it's part of my nature because I've always loved to read and think about ideas and history. I only became truly and intentionally introspective, however, when I started writing personal essays. That's the powerful nurture part.

Reader Neela: If I could ask him a question, I would ask his take on the consumption patterns of the 1% amidst the climate crisis.

David: I think the consumption patterns of the wealthy do have a larger carbon footprint. Just in terms of housing, the more living space, the greater the electricity to heat and cool. The most salient extravagant carbon consumption that comes to mind is flying on a private plane. We don't do that because it seems to us like such a waste of money to save a few hours.

CK Steefel (again!): Do you do any volunteering? If so, what?

David: I volunteer as an advisor to Robin Hood. They call on me when they have an opportunity to make something other than a straightforward grant. I also spend a lot of time advising the executive director of a food pantry that combats food insecurity in Washington Heights. I try to use my business/finance background in my volunteering.

Thank you, David!

In other news, I-just-ate-avocado-toast-for-the-first-time (and in Williamsburg no less!) shoutouts to this week’s newest paid subscribers, Babbette H., Bobby L. and Stephen H. That’s enough $$$ for ten more avocado toast platters! And as you know, while everything on CAFÉ ANNE will always be free, I cannot continue the effort without the growing support of those who opt to pay—so many thanks!

I am very excited for this week’s issue, of course. We have the results of a big-ass survey I did asking New Yorkers about their street-side giving habits. Please enjoy.

Regards!

Anne

FEATURE

To Give or Not to Give? Begging the Question

I have a consistent policy when it comes dealing with panhandlers on the streets of New York City: everyone gets a dollar. An immigrant mom with a baby on her back gets a dollar. The wild-eyed vagrant who's clearly high as a kite gets a dollar. A veteran in a wheelchair missing a limb? He gets one dollar.

And while I don't count them as beggars, every street performer—the musicians, the singers, the “showtime!” kids—they all get a dollar, too. I like what they add to the life of the city.

There are a few exceptions. I don't give to folks who beg on the subway, or to musicians playing the pan flute, as I don't wish to encourage these annoying behaviors. But otherwise, if I see you asking for money, you can be sure of getting a dollar.

This policy does not stem from kindness. I adopted it for the same reason I wear the exact same outfit every day—it’s one less set of decisions cluttering my mind. Is the recipient actually capable of working? Will they spend the money on drugs? There’s no way to know, and it’s none of my business!

I could, of course, adopt the opposite approach and never give money to anyone. But that brings up the second reason for my strategy: I enjoy having a nice little exchange with a stranger. I say hello, hand the person a buck and wish them a nice day. If they want to chat, we chat for a bit. But typically, they just wish me a nice day in return, or offer a blessing. And I need all the blessings I can get!

I seldom give my strategy much thought. But recently, I interviewed very rich NYC person David Roberts for this newsletter and asked if he ever gave to panhandlers. "No, because I don't know where the money is going, and I try to be really thoughtful," he said. He prefers to support charities that help the poor.

Yes, a lot of people believe that giving to panhandlers only encourages destructive behavior. So then I got to wondering—how do most New Yorkers approach this issue? Am I typical? Or are there more Davids out there?

Last week, I hit the streets, determined to interview 50 New Yorkers about their street-side giving habits. I spent two afternoons in five different parks, chatting with folks ages 19 to 82, of every ethnic background, and from every borough except Staten Island.

Reader, I must confess, I ran out of steam after 39 street interviews. I got the remaining eleven responses by emailing surveys to some NYC friends. But I do think I got a pretty good sense of how New Yorkers deal with panhandlers.

My main take-away? We're a LOT more generous than I expected. But also far more arbitrary and irrational.

I enjoyed learning about my fellow New Yorkers, and hope you do too!

My first question: Do you give to panhandlers? Why or why not?

I was surprised that 68% of respondents said they give on the street—at least sometimes.

Most said they give for the most obvious reason—they feel bad for someone and want to help A woman with a baby, in particular, will get many folks opening their wallets.

"Being a dad I think, 'This woman has gone through hell. With little kids. And pregnant,’” said Max, 62, a television director in Greenwich Village. “So I give them $20. $20 to me is nothing—to them it may be a full meal for the family. Or I may give 75 cents to a guy because it's in my pocket and he's looking rough."

Others said their giving depends on their own inner state. "It's how I feel that day. If I'm in a giving mood, I give," said a 40-year-old transit worker who lives in Flatbush.

"Sometimes a person just hits you in the right way, either by the cleverness of their pitch or because your guard wasn't quite up in the moment,” said Mike, a 40-year-old Buswick artist. “Sometimes you just broke a dollar, and they ask at the right time.”

Of the givers, 20% percent said they will only donate food—typically, they’ll go to the nearest bodega and buy the person a sandwich.

Then there's the 28% who said they never give. About half of those said it was because they don't think the typical panhandler really needs help.

"90% are scammers," said Karim, a 46-year-old construction worker. "They all get these subsidies from the government and then they panhandle to get extra money. It's a hustle!"

The rest of the never-givers said they don’t give on the streets because it encourages bad behavior.

"I did criminal defense work," said Steven, a Brooklyn Heights lawyer. "I'd bet 99% of every dollar we give them goes to alcohol or drugs. So while as a human being—as a religious person—I do feel bad for them, at some point I want to scream to people who do give money, 'All you're doing is rewarding them! Making them think it's okay to stand on the corner with your pants down!'"

Steven, with his wife Rebecca: a Yankees fan, NOT a panhandling fan!

A few said they resent being asked. "Money is something you give to people when they do something for you, and I'm not running a charity," said Philip, a Queens musician. "If someone is just sitting there begging, all they did was make me feel sad and wondering about the circumstances that brought them there. And I'm like, 'Eh! I gotta move on!'"

My next question: If you give, how much?

While 18% said they give whatever change is in their pocket, and 36% typically give a dollar, the greatest number of respondents—44%—said they typically give $2-5. That's inflation for you!

"I used to give one dollar," said Godlove, a 19-year-old Bronx college student. "But with this economy, a dollar doesn't get you anywhere. It'll get you a bag of chips. I give, like, $2, $4, $5. I'm kind of broke, so I can't go higher than five."

Several folks said they’ve adopted a panhandler to whom they give on a regular basis. "One guy I give $20 a week, every Wednesday," said Kevin, a 57-year-old West Harlem architect. "Norm sits outside the coffee shop. He knows me, my name and my life. I know him, his name and his life. It's easier to be kind to people you have a connection to."

Some said they they can’t afford to give cash but give in other ways. Elizabeth, who lives in Canarsie, volunteers full-time for a nonprofit providing free medical care to the uninsured. When she sees a panhandler, she gives them her card.

"They don't understand," she said. "They're looking at me, I'm a 68-year-old white woman. Why don't I have money? But they don't want to hear a whole story. I usually just say ‘I can’t help you, but if you ever need medical help, call this number.’"

Dr. Takoia, a 70-year-old preacher in Spanish Harlem, said sometimes, all he can afford to offer is his company, and that's okay. "It’s not just money they need,” he said. “They need someone to sit with them and let them know they're seen.”

I also asked people, What's the most you've ever given?

A quarter said they'd never given more than $5; 20% said their upper limit was $10. About half said their biggest street donation was $20. And 16% said they'd given more.

"A guy said he had his coat stolen, so I gave him my coat," said Dan, an administrative assistant living in Sunnyside.

Amelia, a 50-year-old Brooklyn Heights writer, said she will sometimes give $20-$50 when she sees a woman with children.

In several cases, the big give wasn’t intentional. "No more than five dollars is the typical amount I'd spend," said Miranda, a 26-year-old Bushwick journalist. "But once I gave a guy a $20. It was an accident. I didn't have my glasses on. He said he was going to spend it on cigarettes."

Then there's Michelle, a 26-year-old software engineer who lives in Greenpoint. She once encountered a panhandler requesting food for her child's birthday, so they went to a fast-food joint. "I think she ordered tenders and fries, or burgers and fries," said Michelle. "She ordered $60 worth! In retrospect, it was my mistake. But at the point I couldn't be like, ‘Actually that is too much!'"

Michelle—accidental fast-food philanthropist!

My favorite response came from Jim, a 35-year-old Park Slope meditation teacher. He typically gives $1, he said, but will give $5, $10 or $20 when he's feeling greedy—in an effort to counter what he sees as his own miserliness. His biggest give? "$50, at Christmas time," he said. "Again, I felt a bit selfish walking by someone in need, so I wanted to counter it, and that was all I had."

I was very curious to know, if worst came to worst, Could you resort to begging?

46% said sure, why not?

"I suppose I would use the age card," said Bob, a Brooklyn retiree. "I would exaggerate my limp and lean a little further over my cane. It's all theater!"

But the majority said they'd never beg for money on the streets. Sharee, a 42-year-old cosmetologist in Far Rockaway, said she frequently gives to panhandlers, having been homeless herself for more than a year. "I give, just knowing how it feels to not have anything," she said.

Sharee!

But she never begged for money when she was homeless, she added, and would not do so now. "Asking for a handout doesn't solve your problem, and my ultimate goal was to solve the problem,” she said. “I just feel that when people panhandle, they've kind of given up on whatever it would take for them to end their situation, you know what I mean? It just keeps it going."

More than a dozen said they'd offer their talents—play guitar on the corner, for example, or find a restaurant willing to swap a meal for an hour’s work.

Three respondents said they'd ask the police for help. "If I'm hungry, first I'd try the cops," said one Bronx 22-year-old. "See if they could get me some donuts!"

And three said they'd steal before they'd beg. Two specifically envisioned snatching fruit from a sidewalk stand.

Then there's my "friend" Aharon: "I'd probably collect cans until one of the professional can collectors collected me and had me recycled," he said.

My final question: Are there more panhandlers on the streets of NYC these days?

About half said yes for sure. A quarter said the situation hasn’t changed. 15% agreed with my own anecdotal observation—I feel like there were a lot more panhandlers in the wake of the pandemic, but things have since fallen back to normal, whatever that means.

And while only 5% said they see less street begging these days, many said they see far fewer panhandlers in NYC than in other big cities like San Francisco, Portland and Chicago.

So how accurate were my findings? My last step was to share the results with an actual panhandler. I spotted Jay outside the Trader Joe's at the corner of Atlantic Ave. and Court Street.

Jay!

Jay was sitting on a folding chair accompanied by a hand-lettered cardboard sign that read, "WE'RE ONLY ALL HUMAN!! THANKS FOR BEING KIND!! GOD-BLESS!!"

He was hunched over and staring down at the sidewalk with his cap pulled over his eyes, so I was surprised when, after I approached, he turned out to be very friendly and chatty.

Jay, who is homeless, told me he tries to finds odd jobs such as yard work or helping sanitation workers collect garbage; he resorts to panhandling when he can't find a gig. He sits quietly with his cardboard sign, he said, because he's a big guy with tattoos. He worries a more direct approach might scare folks off.  

I told him about my survey. "About 70% of the respondents said they sometimes give to panhandlers," I said. "Does that seem high to you?"

Jay offered a lower estimate—50%. Sometimes a whole day will go by without a single donation. But he confirmed that the typical give is at least a dollar. About half donate between $2 and $5, and $20 is not uncommon.

The biggest donation he's ever received?

"I was out here one day on a Sunday, it was pouring rain, it was windy out, my umbrella broke and I was getting drenched,” he said. "I was having a bad day, and it was getting worse. Then a girl came and dropped a bill in my bucket and said, 'Everything will get better. Get yourself out of the rain and get yourself a hotel.’ I was like, ‘Hotel! I wish I could!’ But then I looked in the bucket and said 'Oh my God!’"

It was a $100 bill.

"It was a blessing," Jay continued. "I got myself out of the rain. I treated myself to something good to eat. I sat down in a diner, actually, and ate some good food, a pot of coffee. Got myself a newspaper. I was just in a good mood. And then I wound up getting a room. A guy who knows me gave it to me for $55. It was such a great day.”

My final question for Jay: What is something you wish people knew about you?

"People think I'm a junkie or an alcoholic," he said. "I just want people to know that when they get to know me they say, 'He's a nice guy. He looks like a mean guy, a big guy, but he's one of the nicest guys around here.'"

He was a nice guy. I gave him $5.

So am I planning to give everyone $5 going forward? Haha, no way! But maybe I can be a little more flexible. As Miranda the Bushwick journalist put it, "Walking around New York makes me feel simultaneously broke as f— and also insanely privileged, all in the same breath. So I'll see where I can try to help."

So how about you? Please take the CAFÉ ANNE panhandlers survey and leave your thoughts in the comments!

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