The lepers among us

In the effort to feed Tulsa’s hungry, a little respect goes a long way

It’s hard to get the look of poverty just right.

Case No. 1:  Several years ago, the Tulsa World ran a photo of a woman getting a bag of emergency groceries from the pantry at Iron Gate Tulsa. The woman pictured was overweight.  The newspaper was flooded with so many outraged emails, the website temporarily crashed.  The gist of the email assault was, “That woman is fat and cannot possibly be hungry.”

We at Iron Gate replied with an explanation that low-income and poor people all too often eat the cheapest, most unhealthy food. The result is not only obesity, but health conditions such as diabetes and high blood pressure.

Case No. 2:  On the Iron Gate Facebook page we recently posted a photo of a young mother and her two daughters standing in our grocery pantry line.  A donor shot me an email saying the woman didn’t look at all needy.  She and the children were in nice clothes, and the woman was wearing makeup and jewelry. In fact, the email went on, was that a big diamond the woman was flashing?

No, I replied, it was not a diamond. It was costume jewelry.  And that before going out in public—even to a soup kitchen and grocery pantry—the woman made sure the family looked as presentable as possible. 

Case No. 3:  Downtown employers recently circulated warning notices about panhandlers.  One homeless panhandler, the warning said, had pulled a woman’s hair.

My response was to say that I genuinely regret any frightening or harmful panhandling incident.  Downtown panhandling is a consequence of our rapidly growing downtown area. Any place where people congregate—public parks, bike and hiking paths, urban areas—can be potentially dangerous and we must all exercise caution.

I used to hike alone in the University of Tulsa’s Redbud Valley Nature Conservancy, but I wouldn’t think of doing that now.

I read a local obituary recently of a woman, a social worker, who was permanently disabled by a meth lab explosion in the apartment building where she lived. She lived in a different unit and had nothing to do with the meth lab.

One of my more cynical colleagues at another social service agency suggested that the panhandler warnings were an effort to whip up public hysteria and fear in a campaign to drive the homeless out of downtown.

I hope that is not true.

Not all panhandlers are homeless.  Not many homeless are panhandlers.  Most of the people—75 percent—who come to Iron Gate for food assistance are not homeless.  They are working poor, low income or poverty level.

Another colleague says that the poor and homeless are the modern day version of Biblical lepers.  Some of us want them to be shunned, shamed and isolated.

Those of us in the caring and compassion business prefer another approach.

Our philosophy at Iron Gate is to treat everyone with courtesy, kindness and respect. That’s why we urge people to look a homeless person in the eyes, smile and say hello.
That changes a lot of things, including fear.

How to help
Iron Gate Tulsa and other local nonprofits tasked with eradicating hunger rely on the compassion of Tulsans to make a difference in the lives of the people they serve. Individuals or families are welcome to volunteer for a variety of services, including serving food in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches, bagging and distributing groceries, picking up donated food, distributing personal hygiene kits, or collecting and distributing gloves and socks during winter or bottled water during summer.

Iron Gate also accepts monetary and food donations. It accepts both perishable and non-perishable food items, and can help schools or other organizations set up food drives. Contact Connie Cronley at 918-359-9017 or by email at ccronley@irongatetulsa to learn more about how you can help fight hunger in Tulsa.