By Jennifer Paradis
Homelessness
Jennifer Paradis
The most influential study I have read over the years dates back to 2016. Psychologists involved in the study sought to understand the perception of disenfranchised groups by general society. The findings were grim; neuroscientist Lasana Harris and social psychologist Susan Fiske state that the most extreme outgroups, the low–low (such as people experiencing homelessness or people who panhandle) receive unabashed disliking and disrespect.
Groups stereotyped as neither warm nor competent elicit the worst kind of prejudice – disgust and contempt – based on perceived moral violations and subsequent negative outcomes that these groups allegedly caused themselves. Extreme discrimination reveals the worst kind of prejudice: excluding outgroups from full humanity. Social psychological theory underscores the idea of perceiving some outgroups as less than people.
This rattles me. We in the vast majority dehumanize panhandlers, associating them more closely with inanimate objects like stop signs and fire hydrants than with someone like ourselves or even a complete stranger. With those who panhandle making up less than 1 percent of our total population, the sobering conclusions of this study say more about who we are as a society and less about the people panhandling, deserving basic dignity and respect as such.
Who are people who panhandle? Statistically, more than 50 percent are people experiencing homelessness, and an additional 25 percent are folks who live in a room for rent or apartment but rely on panhandling for income necessary to meet other basic needs. All panhandlers referred to the act as their last resort, reporting that traditional education and employment opportunities were difficult to maintain over time. We have come to understand that many people who panhandle have complex trauma histories, and a large percentage of individuals have cognitive deficits such as traumatic brain injuries.
Nearly 75 percent of individuals primarily spend the money received from panhandling on food. Allergies, dietary restrictions, capacity to prepare ingredients and meal preferences create high barriers in accessing soup kitchens, mobile food pantries and accepting food donations from community members who feel food is a more acceptable form of donation than money.
The next largest expense was shelter, with many individuals using donations to underwrite household expenses. Lastly, about 10 percent used donations to aid in addictions. Just like homeless shelter beds, there are not enough treatment resources for those struggling with substance use. The cycle of seeking treatment meets no long-term solutions after a 10-day detox bed, and so immediate relief supersedes the hope of freedom from addiction.
Deeply affordable housing, accessible and culturally diverse food, and appropriate support for substance use programming are solutions to addressing panhandling that we can and should work toward together.
The most frequent question I receive during lectures and workshops about our homeless response system is specific to panhandling. Phrased in a variety of ways, people hope for a solution to what one should do when confronted with the opportunity to engage with someone who is panhandling. My answer never waivers: smile and say hello. Although the backgrounds of those who are panhandling in our community vary, there is one finding of the aforementioned study that stands above the rest: 100 percent of panhandlers report loneliness and social disconnection.
We may not have the capacity as a community to alleviate the systemic issues that result in panhandling overnight, but we do have the capacity to lead that change with kindness now.
The person who is begging for their food, shelter or in a desperate attempt to manage their addictions in the short term has the same human value as all of us. In many ways, they are the largest victims of our societal failures, as their ability to care for themselves comes with public harassment and shame. Rather than disliking, disrespecting and dismissing people who panhandle, pivot frustrations to the broken systems that allowed these conditions in the first place and support solutions that alleviate suffering for all.
Jennifer Paradis is the executive director of the Beth-El Center in Milford.