Change for change

Alot of people hesitate when it comes to handing over change to someone on the street. The thought process usually goes something like, What if they spend it on drugs? On alcohol? Isn’t that just enabling bad behavior? And just like that, the opportunity for a small, human moment of kindness is snuffed out by a moral debate that never needed to happen.

Here’s a question, though: why does it matter how they spend it? Why is our willingness to help someone suddenly conditional on whether their needs align with our own tidy sense of what’s “worthy”? Newsflash—poverty and addiction don’t come with a neat list of approved purchases.

At its core, giving to someone isn’t about dictating how they use the money; it’s about restoring a shred of dignity to a life that likely hasn’t seen much of it lately. It’s about offering the choice that poverty strips away. Because here’s the harsh reality: for many people living rough, it’s not about whether they’ll get their next meal or bus ride or sip of water. It’s about whether they’ll make it through the day.

And yeah, maybe they will spend it on a drink. But let’s be honest here—if you were living outside in the dead of winter, constantly cold, exhausted, and beaten down by society, wouldn’t you want a drink, too? Maybe it’s not what you’d spend your money on, but who made you the arbiter of survival tactics?

The truth is, those crumpled bills or jangling coins you hesitate to give could mean a lot of things: a hot meal, a ride to a shelter, or yes, even a temporary escape from pain. Whatever it is, it’s theirs to decide. And in that moment, you’ve done something profoundly important: you’ve seen them. Acknowledged their existence. Offered connection in a world that insists on looking away.

But let’s take a step back and examine the two mindsets at play here:

The Conditional Giver

This person might hand over money, but only if they’re certain it’ll be spent on something “productive.” Food, clothing, bus fare—nothing frivolous or harmful. To the Conditional Giver, the fear of “enabling” outweighs the act of giving itself. It’s less about compassion and more about control, a subtle way of saying, I’ll help you, but only on my terms.

The Compassionate Giver

This person sees the humanity in the person asking for change and understands that their struggles are complex and deeply personal. They give without strings attached, knowing that their job isn’t to police someone’s choices but to offer a moment of relief. The Compassionate Giver recognizes that sometimes survival looks messy—and that’s okay.

So, where does this leave us?

In the end, the stigma around addiction and the fear of enabling miss the point entirely. Giving isn’t about controlling someone’s behavior. It’s about creating a moment of connection, however small, that reminds someone they are seen, they matter, and their existence isn’t invisible.

Because let’s face it—the world already does a good enough job of making people in poverty feel invisible. The least we can do is let go of our hang-ups, hand over that spare change, and give them a little bit of choice in a life that offers them so few.