WASHINGTON — Every day, Lawaune Stockton stands with her cup in front of a downtown McDonald's, jingling the change inside as customers come and go. She cinches the strings on the hood of her sweatshirt to keep out the damp air.
Stockton, who's only been homeless for four months, knows some passersby think homeless people ask for money to buy drugs and alcohol, but the stereotype doesn't stop her.
“You can't judge a book by its cover,” said Stockton, who makes about $20 a day in change.
As winter sets in, increasing numbers of Americans will be confronted with the harsh reality of homelessness: bundled, shivering souls, hands held out for loose change. But many people are unsure how to respond: Show a little charity with a dollar or two, or risk funding someone's drug or alcohol habit?
Herb Smith, president of the Los Angeles Mission, has an easy answer: Just don't give. Money given straight to the homeless “generally goes toward supporting a drug or alcohol habit,” he said.
Smith, whose LA Mission offers meals, beds, education and counseling to the poor in what he calls the “homeless capital of the U.S.,” said he learned not to give new shoes or sleeping bags when he heard homeless people sold them and took the money to buy drugs.
What's more important than money, he said, are the few seconds it takes to spend a little time treating the homeless as human beings. “The relationship issue is tantamount,” he said.
Joe Little, a spokesman for the New York City Rescue Mission, agreed.
“Yes, they're looking for money, yes, they're hungry … but what they're really after … is acceptance and some variation on intimacy,” he said.
Unlike Smith, Little doesn't object to someone giving a dollar to a homeless person. Sure, you don't know where the money will end up, but neither do you know what anyone will do with anything.
Each day after Mass, the homeless approach exiting worshippers on the steps of St. Matthew's Cathedral, several few blocks from where Stockton stands outside the McDonald's. Teresa Volante runs the cathedral's homeless ministry, which includes a Monday morning breakfast of eggs, casseroles, fruit and croissants.
She personally prefers to give food and clothing, but stops short of saying people shouldn't give money. “I think it really comes down to an individual call,” she said.
From a safety perspective, though, she advises against it. Some parishioners give a dollar to a homeless person, only to have $5 or $10 demanded the next time.
Not all homeless are looking for money or a handout, however.
Lamar McCoy, for example, had parents who raised him to support himself. Even though the former machine operator has been homeless for 17 years — 15 in shelters and two on Washington streets — he says he never asks for money.
“Just because you're homeless doesn't mean you have to lose your principles,” said McCoy, 60.
Once, he said, he found a wallet full of money and turned it in to a pharmacy instead of keeping it. He sometimes feels belittled and demeaned when people offer him cash.
Offering money and food isn't going to solve homelessness anyway, some say. Joel John Roberts, the CEO of People Assisting the Homeless (PATH) in Los Angeles, wants to teach the homeless what McCoy's parents taught him: how to support themselves.
“Our goal is not to provide ‘three hots and a cot,' ” he said, referring to the traditional work of soup kitchens and shelters.
Instead, Roberts' agency provides job training and tries to help homeless people secure permanent housing.
David Sefton, a junior at Chicago's Moody Bible Institute, has less tangible concerns: hopelessness, despair and self respect. A few nights each week, he and 25 or 30 other students try to build relationships with the homeless. They strike up conversations about anything, from sports to spirituality to what's on the menu at the nearby homeless shelter.
As a general rule, they don't give money to those they meet, unless they know of a specific need, like a bus pass or medicine, or know the person and really trust them.
“I don't know what I'm supporting, and I know that … drugs and alcohol … are a big problem on the streets,” Sefton said.
Sometimes the students pass out sandwiches, but Sefton said the focus of their work is less on providing physical needs and more on rebuilding shattered self image.
After being ignored and avoided, Sefton said, “your dignity gets pretty shot.”