Judging: the forming of an opinion, estimate, notion or conclusion
Just the other day, I drove into a strip mall and saw a group of homeless people under the trees on the edge of the parking lot. I have had a lot of contact over the years with addicts, mentally ill, and generally down-on-you-luck homeless people by virtue of where I was employed. Up until the last 5 years, I worked in buildings that were located in the grittier parts of town. Not once was I ever afraid, in fact I made an effort to make eye contact with everyone I encountered on the streets and smile. Most of the time my smiles were returned, sometimes not, but nobody ever bothered me except to ask for the occasional handout. Sometimes I would give them food or drink, but not money. Sometimes I would talk to them and hear some pretty interesting stories. I tried to treat them the same way I would treat any other person I met throughout my daily life.
On this particular day I drove into the strip mall and as I was getting out of my car, I noticed a little old man shuffling across the parking lot. Out of the corner of my eye, I observed a young and rather scruffy man emerge from under the trees, making a beeline toward the older gentleman. The younger man was scraggly & dirty and I have to admit, a surge of panic went through me as my initial thought was robbery. However, he gently guided the old man toward a shopping cart that he could grasp onto, and walked him all the way to the door of the grocery store. I chided myself for being so quick to judge. Would I have had the some reaction if it had been a younger man in a business suit? Probably not. I was reminded that what we see on the outside is not necessarily the reflection of who is on the inside. Kindness is universal, and homelessness is not an indicator of criminal intent. I have been a champion and an advocate of those less fortunate, so when I reacted the way I did, it caught me by surprise and not in a good way.
People judge every day, it is a part of our nature. When making a left hand turn in traffic, we need to judge the distance between our car and an approaching vehicle. When choosing a restaurant in an unfamiliar town, we judge by the online reviews. There is nothing wrong with judging. We judge other people as well: who would be a good babysitter for our kids? Who is the best candidate for the job? Who gave the best performance in a movie? I have no problem with these types of judgments, but become uncomfortable when we judge a person’s worth based on things that they say or things that they do, their gender, ethnicity, sexual preference, where they live, the way they dress, etc. I would love to say that I’m above all that, and the truth is I strive to see the worth in every person, but at times I fall short.
A few years ago I befriended a homeless heroin addict who used to beg for money about a block from where I worked. I don’t know exactly what it was that drew me toward this particular woman, as I had become familiar with many of the “locals” and often stopped to say a few words. Jameela was different. She was tall and extremely thin, looked older than her years, but her facial features still displayed a hint of the outer beauty she once had. She was usually unkempt and often glassy eyed, but she always remembered me. One day I happened to be standing next to her as I waited for the light to change to cross the street. She said to me “we all call you Missy Angel cuz you’re just so nice to us.” Surprised, I said “I am?” And she said “Oh yes, you always got a smile and you always say Hello like we matter, like we’re HERE. Most folks, they just look away.” That started a regular ritual of morning greetings and small talk. On more than a few days I would make sure she was able to have breakfast. There was a greasy café nearby that provided a hearty meal at a fair price, and she was always so grateful. I told her I was a good listener if she ever wanted to talk, but she didn’t. We never spoke about her drug habit although I could see the marks on her arms and she would disappear for days at a time.
One day when I was taking my lunchtime walk through the area, she and a man that I assumed was a “john”, emerged from a phone booth. She saw me and immediately looked at the ground. “Oh Missy Angel, I’m so ashamed,” she said. “I don’t know why,” I replied. “You’re still the same Jameela I see every day, right?” She looked at me with tears rolling down her face and didn’t respond, although she tried to smile. The next morning on my way in to the office, she asked if she could give me a hug. She felt so frail and brittle in my arms, I was afraid I might break her. One of my co-workers saw me and confronted me the minute we got inside. “Ewwww!!! How could you touch that homeless hooker? She’s so dirty and nasty! Gross!” I remember looking her square in the eye and saying “I can wash the dirt from my clothes; it’s harder to wash the dirt from your heart.” I’m pretty sure she didn’t get my point, but I’m glad I spoke up. I never saw Jameela again after that, but I never forgot her words.
I always try to make it a habit now to acknowledge everyone I pass on the street, whether in business attire or rags. As I discovered with Jameela, it only takes a few seconds to smile at someone, and it could be the highlight of their day. We all matter. We are all worthy of being here. Some people we won’t like, some people won’t like us, but we all have a right to be on this Earth and do the best we can with the circumstances we’ve been dealt. I don’t personally know the reasons why individuals end up homeless, poor, addicted, etc. I don’t personally know the reasons why individuals decide to dye their hair pink, pierce their eyebrows, tattoo their backs, or wear socks with sandals. In my world, I try to form opinions based on how well I know who is on the inside rather than judging who I THINK they are by how they look on the outside.