It ’ s the middle of summer 2016 . Westside Atlanta . I ’ m impatiently waiting at Popeyes for my two piece and a biscuit . The usual . Me and the cashiers are exchanging the kind of pleasantries that come when you know someone ’ s face but not their name . Friendly and familiar . A year and half earlier , Shawndra and I bought a house out here . It ’ s an investment property , but not in the way you might think . We hoped to see things change in this area of town , and we figured that families planting roots here would be a good idea . Our home is our way of investing in the community . ’ Cause it ’ s one thing to peer at the brokenness of this world through the blinds of a nice neighborhood ’ s safety and seclusion . It ’ s another thing entirely to make your home in the middle of the place you hope to change . A lot of people don ’ t have the choice ( that ’ s what poverty does ; it robs you of choices ). But we did . We wanted to be part of the solution and thought we knew how to help . And sure enough , back in that Popeyes line , I get a chance to help .
As soon as I pull out my wallet to pay , a man comes up and asks me for money . You know the type . His body ’ s the only suitcase he owns , so he ’ s wearing too many clothes for the summer heat . I ’ m not quite sure how old he is , but I ’ m certain he doesn ’ t wear his age well . I ’ m determined to help , but I ain ’ t the one to feed his addiction . I ’ m gonna feed the man .
Let me buy you some food , I say . Whatever you want .
He orders twelve dollars ’ worth . More than my meal , but that ’ s cool . I give him the claim check and take my seat . I ’ m low-key feeling good about myself . I have used my knowledge and my experience . I knew what to do , and I did it . Changing this community is going to be easier than I imagined . Or so I think . As soon as I give him the claim check , I see him approaching some dude at a table on the other side of the restaurant . He strikes up a conversation and trades three crumpled dollar bills for the claim check . My claim check ! Before I can protest , he ’ s out the door ( dang , he ’ s fast for an old dude ).
Now I ’ m beyond mad . I make my way over to confront the guy at the table . What you doin ’, man ? You know that ain ’ t right .
I expect to see him sink in shame , but I ’ m hit by a wave of rebuke .
Man , I ’ ve got five kids at home that need feedin ’, and my job don ’ t pay enough . I ’ ve gotta take care of my kids .
Reality hits home as my self-righteousness is exposed . Here ’ s a father hustling for his kids . He could be doing a whole lot of worse things to make ends meet . Instead , he trades a few dollars to keep his family fed . The cashier calls my number . I get my food and make my exit , avoiding eye contact with everyone . All I can think of is my inadequacy and a father ’ s desperation . Like the Teacher says , “ The more knowledge , the more grief ” ( 1:18 ).
It turns out I didn ’ t know nearly as much as I thought . And eventually , the more I learned about what the people in my community really needed , the more troubled I became . I began to lament .
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