Cleaning our streets of beggars: our third world

But these are the poor and the dispossessed who have nowhere to go. But instead of effective help they are usually offered judgement and blame.

As the Manager of Lifeline Melbourne I had oversight of the drop in service set up to cater for the long term destitute, who came to the Church asking for food accommodation and money. The 'supplicants' perceived that they had to give us a 'good story' to prove that they deserved assistance. But how many times can one's grandmother die necessitating you to need money to attend her funeral?

We decided from the outset that they would be given help [it was still rather meagre] on request. But that if they wanted to, they could talk to us about anything. We were there to listen and would not judge.

Perhaps there were other ways we might help. The stories of their lives[yes they had lives] emerged . There were the expected stories of abuse violence and addiction. But also surprising revelations. One man loved to recite Shakespeare; but alcohol brain damage had ended his amateur theatre career. Another spent hours in libraries and another played the piano brilliantly, when allowed to, in hotels and the Adult Education library!

The lives of those on the streets and in insecure accommodation are often too chaotic for them to comply with welfare requirements. They are frequently breached, neglect to turn up for appointments and are highly unpresentable as job candidates in a competitive job market.

But today Ken thanks me for my $2 and I ask, have you been harassed or asked to move on recently? I explain about the Lord Mayor's edict. "No not really", he hesitates, "but I did read about it in the paper." I wonder how the destitute will get the news when it all goes digital? Recently a very thin woman whom I often see around town, pleaded for money. "Please don't give me food. I have been given 3 buckets of chips already today." She is clutching the polystyrene cups full of soggy chips to her chest. I wonder at the wisdom of the directive to give food not money. Where will the homeless store food, when they don't have a fridge or a kitchen or a room?

I wrote this relaxing with a latte, in my favourite city café ,while those around me chatted happily about their homes and lives, scanned their iPhones and demurred, over choices on an enticing lunch menu.