The Ethics of Giving: A Personal Journey Through Poverty Culture

The Ethics of Giving: A Personal Journey Through Poverty Culture

Commentary by Andy Pope | FāVS News

I recently had a personal philosophical experience that led me to take another look at my lifelong financial philosophy. I say “lifelong” because I truly believe my unorthodox notions on how to manage money stem from ideas my mother impressed upon me at an early age. 

Because we were “lower middle class” — arguably poor by today’s standards — my mom often referred to us as the “commoners.” As such, we lived in a separate reality from those in more privileged social classes.

In that paradigm, sometimes called Poverty Culture, things happen around money that don’t happen — and would not happen — in the upper classes.

For instance, how often do we see wealthy people loaning $5 or $10 to each other? Not too often. They wouldn’t need to. But poor people, noticing a friend is broke, will often lend $10 to another poor person. And the same person who needed the loan may loan $10 or $20 to another poor person, the next time they “feel flushed.”

Receiving money from the more privileged 

It is common practice in Poverty Culture for people to share what little they have with others who are in the same boat. And although I am still in Poverty Culture, I have found it challenging to retain this lifelong philosophy when making friends with those more privileged than I. 

About a year ago, a kind-hearted gentleman gifted me with $100 to help with a utility bill. Though probably not a wealthy man, he also gave me a coffeemaker when I needed one, and once had offered to help me with a bicycle.

A while back, we were having dinner together, when I blurted out that I was giving $20 every month to a disabled borderline-homeless person. Though he did not exactly express his disappointment in words, I distinctly interpreted disapproval in his facial expression.

But was it truly disappointment? Was it actually disapproval? I cannot say. After all, I don’t read minds. But one thing I know for sure: I felt guilty at that moment. I naturally thought:

“If I’m so broke I have to borrow $100 to help pay a utility bill, who am I to spend $20 on a poor disabled woman who chronically drifts in and out of homelessness?” 

Foolish use of money

Another fairly recent event was equally unsettling. About 10 of us who frequent the Latah Recovery Center were cajoled into spending $30 up front on caricature portraits a self-proclaimed sketcher was peddling. We did not ask for the caricatures, but he did them anyway.

Sucker that I am, I took $30 out of my ATM without even seeing the picture first. The actual portrait was all right, but it was surrounded by derogatory comments about my personality, including one that would have earned me a death sentence on the streets. I instantly ripped it up and threw it away.

I later bemoaned my foolishness to a church friend:

“If I’m in the position where I had to ask you for $60 last year to survive the holiday season, why on earth would I take half of that and give it to a hustler?” 

True, the $60 was granted last December, and the $30 was offered this December. In the case of the $100, it was given last winter, and I only told my friend about the alleged financial indiscretion a few days ago. In each case, a year had passed.

Saving money vs. spending money

But the conflict between the two philosophies remains. On the one hand, I should be more prudent with my finances, if I am to presume to help those in need, especially if I am making no progress toward escaping an ongoing state of poverty. 

However, the idea that I should never help someone at all, just because I am poor, doesn’t sit well with me. Sure, I might climb up the financial ladder if I ceased to exchange $5 and $20 transactions among others who are struggling, but how important is it for me to climb up the financial ladder?

Certainly one should have a savings set aside in the event of an emergency. Surely one should be prudent with one’s finances, and cease to spend lavish amounts of cash on high-powered caffeine beverages in local haunts — especially if one has one’s own coffee maker in one’s own place of residence. 

But aside from that, I don’t see a problem with gifting a impoverished, disabled woman with less than 2% of my monthly income. According to some traditions, even God wants us to give him 10% off-the-top of anything we glean

And yet, I see the reasoning behind it all. Still, it feels awful to always be in the position of needing financial assistance, and never to be in the position from which I can gift someone with money in return.

Thus was the financial philosophy that pervaded the streets, when I and others were homeless.

Money as a reward to share and spend through

When we were homeless, any time someone got a hold of some cash, it was expected we would share at least a portion of it with another homeless person. This practice was known as “gifting.” It was considered to be “good karma.” What goes around comes around, and that’s how “hip economy” thrives.

When we were homeless, another dynamic often entailed. This was attributed to the whirling dervishes. As I understand it, whenever they came into any money, they would rapidly extinguish it on creature comforts. After that, flat broke, they would spend weeks or months fasting and developing the strength of their inner spiritual selves.

When the next paycheck came along, it would again be rapidly spent, as though it were a reward for all the hard work of fasting they had done in the meantime.

How many homeless people worked hard all month, flying signs and busking on the streets, only to receive a monthly disability check and squander it rapidly on drugs, devices and hotel rooms?

Quite a few. As one unhoused person put it: “This disability check is my vacation pay!”

The Jesus way of giving?

So I would like to suggest to my followers that many valid financial philosophies abound. Not all of them are consonant with the capitalistic mores of American culture. But they might well resonate with the words of Jesus:

As Jesus was sitting opposite the treasury, he watched the crowd putting money into it. And many rich people put in large amounts. Then one poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which amounted to a small fraction of a denarius. 

Jesus called His disciples to Him and said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more than all the others into the treasury. For they all contributed out of their surplus, but she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on.” — Mark 12:41-44

As the saying goes, there are two kinds of people in this world: the givers and the takers. The takers eat better, but the givers sleep better. With all my lifelong issues around insomnia, I think I’ll choose the good night’s sleep. 

So I ask you: what philosophy will you choose? What is your personal predilection when it comes to managing money? I don’t think one size fits all when it comes to how we are to address our finances.

For my part, I have decided to budget my monthly check as though I were a miser, just so long as I can find five homeless or borderline-homeless people to whom I can gift with $20 monthly donations.

In that manner, I will have truly given my 10% tithe to God. 

The views expressed in this opinion column are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the views of FāVS News. FāVS News values diverse perspectives and thoughtful analysis on matters of faith and spirituality.