The charity workers

On a street corner of a traffic intersection near where I work stood four middle-aged black men in worn clothes. In their hands were sturdy plastic buckets filled with lollipops. As I drove my car toward the intersection, I caught sight of the men, who were dressed in orange-colored safety vests that made them look like crossing guards. But they weren't crossing guards. Instead, they seemed to be collecting for a charity, trading the lollipops for money from drivers. What put things out of place was that there was nothing that identified them as working for a charity, like the Kiwanis on "Peanut Day" would have the charity's name printed on their safety vests.

Right away in my head I made a silent plea to God. "Oh please, don't let me get stopped at a red light!" If I got stuck, one of the men would come over to my car window and want a donation in return for what he had in his bucket. I didn't want that. Luckily, I was on the busier of the two cross roads and my light stayed green for a long time. I was able to zip right through the intersection.

The visceral reaction I had during this incident is the same as when I see a homeless person on the street holding a sign asking for money. My "spider senses" go off, because I'm not sure if the person is truly in need or is just running a scam. Once when I worked in downtown Chicago, I gave a woman on the street $5 just for the performance she gave me....she said she was from St. Louis, and her car had run out of gas, and she had brought money with her but it must have been stolen during her time in the big city..... She was just spitting the frustration out of her mouth. It was an obvious scam, but I rewarded her for being so elaborate and theatrical.

The thing is, I guess, is that I prefer my charity workers to identify themselves. A day earlier, at another intersection, I fished around for change in my car and gave it to one of the Kiwanis peanut people. At other times, I have waved over the charity workers who are offering Tootsie Rolls in return for my money. I have even flagged over those charity workers who give away the red paper hearts.

But these four guys on the street, I didn't want to deal with them. Were they actually panhandlers instead of charity workers? Would I have had the same reaction if they were white?

At another intersection a few miles away, I noticed another black guy, all by himself, threadbare around the edges, holding the same kind of sturdy bucket. Inside were the same kind of lollipops. But this guy also had a homemade sign, just a big piece of white cardboard with three words written in black marker, one word on top of the other:

Women
Children
Charity

I surmised that this guy and the other men were collecting for their church, and that they were granted authority to do so because they would have been chased away by police otherwise.

Still, even being secure with my assumption, the thought of being stuck at a red light with these guys makes me feel uncomfortable. Does that make me racist? I hope not.