Why Hoard Something That’s Free?
My mom and I were having lunch the other day at a small Italian place in SF. Near our sidewalk seat, a man was weaving among the tables, lugging a wheeled suitcase that I suspect contained most of his belongings. Every so often, he would stop to ask other patrons for money. Once, he stormed by shouting angrily at no one in particular.
Finally, I notice him from the corner of my eye approach our table...
Now, before describing what happened next, a disclaimer: I have some experience serving people who are struggling at the social and financial margins. I’m probably more comfortable around them than many people.
As the man approaches and before he says a word, I turn to greet him. I smile broadly, look him in the eyes, and say, “Hey there! How are you doing, today?”
He’s slightly taken aback at my sincere greeting. “I’m okay today. Not that great. I’m okay. Pretty good,” he responds.
“My name is Dan; what’s your name?”
“Daren”
“Hey Daren, it’s great to meet you.” And I reach out to exchange a friendly fist bump. I introduce my mom by name and explain that, as a special treat, I brought her up to San Francisco for lunch.
“Nice to meet you,” he says to her, then turns to me and tells me “she’s lovely.” But then catches himself because he thinks that sounded a little creepy, though it didn’t at all. He’s stumbling and embarrassed, but I tell him I completely understand his sentiment — I think she is lovely, too.
We laugh. His face brightens and his grin reveals his few remaining teeth.
He muses that it’s harder for women to live in our world than men, and that men often make life difficult for women. I agree and we chat for a couple minutes about various challenges in the world. As he begins to withdraw and leave, I reach out to fist-bump him again and tell him it was a pleasure to meet him and that I am glad he stopped by to say, “hello.” He pauses. He looks at my mom, then to me and says, “I’m glad I stopped by, too.”
He beams and practically skips off.
My mom peers at me over her salad and quietly says, “I thought for sure he was going to ask for money.”
I respond, “I am certain he was going to ask for money but we surprised him with something better: a small gift of dignity.”
Now this post has little to do with those living on the streets, and everything to do with needless gaps in basic human dignity. It seems wherever power imbalances are found — whether they are socio-economic, race, gender, or even supervisor-subordinate / client-vendor or other relationships — those with the perceived “upper-hand” can be easily tempted to misallocate human dignity. Why is that? We sometimes almost hoard it as though we’re afraid of somehow running out of it.
I’m not necessarily better than other people with this, but Daren’s response was a stark reminder how precious dignity is and how ridiculously easy it is to offer up.
A few things I’ve learned about dignity:
It’s simultaneously free yet priceless
Every human craves and deserves it
Those in positions of any kind of power are its custodians
When we withhold it, we steal
When we give it, we receive
Consider these for a moment. Do you agree? What would you add?
Then consider your actions. Where do you share dignity? Where do you withhold it? Where do you hold power or sway over others? What would it look like to be more generous with it?
These Take2 posts are intended to encourage regular pauses to reflect and recalibrate more intention in our personal and vocational lives. The daily demands of life often distract us from seeing — and more consistently following — the path we long to be on. I hope these brief thoughts trigger deeper, more personalized consideration.
