A few weeks back, I was walking down Milwaukee Avenue in Wicker Park- one of Chicago’s “hip” neighborhoods- to meet some of my friends for Happy Hour on a Friday night. I came across this person sleeping in a doorway and furtively, I snapped a quick photo.

Doing so instantaneously made me feel guilty. I hated the feeling – the itchy, crawly feeling of having done something wrong. It wiggled up inside of me, squeezing my heart and pinching my smile. I shivered, my body’s physical attempt to shake the emotion free.

I think that perhaps that desire not to feel guilt is one of the reasons why this sort of thing- poverty, homelessness, hunger- gets shoved beneath the rug. When the man on the corner walks towards you, hands outstretched, eyes imploring, the act of shaking your head and saying no makes you feel guilty. And you reject that guilt.

Why should it be my responsibility to feed him?

The money is probably just for booze anyways.

Or perhaps;

I’ve only got $20 to my name buddy. I can’t help you.

We shove the guilt away, pushing it out of our minds, and we move on with our lives. We forget, purposefully, those in need. We move on, checking our phones, making plans with friends, planning our next vacation. That outstretched hand becomes a faded memory, one that you can barely recall and are not quite sure is real at all.

The first time I was in Guatemala, it struck me that the way people interact there is different. People come first. If you are having an important conversation with your wife, your kids, your neighbor… you do not worry about those five minutes you might be late to work. Community comes first.

That system, of course, probably would not work here — thanks capitalism. But we as a people need to find that middle ground, where instead of feeling guilty when we happen across those in need, we think, “How can I help this person?”