From “My daughter is sick right now. I need to ride the next SEPTA down the Media/Elwyn” to “It’s been weeks since I could shower, help me buy some soap?” to a simple, high-pitched “Spare a quarter?”, they come to Penn often. Some are better than others. Some are more intrusive than others. Almost all of the scenarios sound like total lies. A Penn police officer once told me, “The stories are all a scam. They are all con artists. Don’t ever talk to any of them again. He even had a box cutter in his pocket. What if he decided to mug you all of a sudden?”
Urban studies seniors read a book this semester based on an ethnographic study of a low-income, heavy-police neighborhood in Philadelphia — "On the Run: Fugitive Life in an American City" by Alice Goffman. When Goffman was an undergraduate at Penn, she came across some friends — by starting out as a tutor first — who were living in a much different environment from campus. The neighborhood’s residents were always "on the run" from the tough-on-crime police. She then moved there and hung out with her new friends for six years, documenting their everyday struggles. In this year’s Urban Studies Public Lecture with over 200 attendees in College Hall last Wednesday , she discussed targeted imprisonment, the "war on crime," and the "fugitive slave" status of low-income minorities. On average, black males with one offense must apply to over 75 lowest service sector legal jobs for one callback while white counterparts get much more.
As an international student new to America, I always had questions for myself such as: Why were there metal detectors and policemen in local Philadelphia high schools where I volunteered? "Penn Police?" Why do we need a separate police for the University? It seemed weird.
I talked to one of them again recently just to say hello again and then goodbye. Last time we met, he was dragged out of the CVS next to the bookstore by Penn Police , got full body searched and was told intimidatingly to never come back to campus — ever. After being asked if I was okay, I stood befuddled. I was just going to buy soap for him and go to class. In a giftbag, I gave some Dove as a good gesture and wished him happy holidays. Most likely, I will never see this man again in my life. Sitting down on a bench, he swore that he didn’t have a box cutter on him, “My man, why the hell would I carry a box cutter around?” he questioned. “In my neighborhood, that won’t keep you safe anyway if I am attacked or something.”
Did he have one or not? One of two parties was not telling the truth: the Penn Police officer or this seemingly genuine hustler. Before reading Goffman, I felt certain that the latter was always fabricating stories to extract emotions and dollars off compassionate, privileged Ivy students. Now I am actually a little bit more open to the idea that, frighteningly, the former might have made things up to do his job right — to ensure the safety of Penn’s campus and its students using whatever method necessary. The number of panhandlers these days, I think, decreased significantly.
“And why are the police always after me on college campuses?” he added to our short conversation, expressing that he felt racially profiled all the time. “I didn’t do nothing wrong legally, just trying to ask politely for people’s generosity from time to time. Let’s just say if I was the victim of something, will I get any protection from the police?” We then talked about how Christmas shouldn’t be as materialistic as marketed by big companies and Americans should stick to the original celebration of Jesus’ birthday. We blessed each other and fist-bumped. I still don’t trust most of his stories, but the conversation was enlightening to say the least. Buying some soap for a brother in need, at the end, won’t solve his financial problems at all, but hopefully sent a small message that some students care about him and his family. God, in which we trust according to all dollar bills, bless America.
Jack Park is a College senior from Seoul, South Korea studying Urban Studies. His email address is jparkh@sas.upenn.edu.
