About 'cup guy'
One of the nicer aspects of working in Redfern/Darlington is that it gives me the opportunity to interact with members of the Aboriginal community on a regular basis. It's honestly something that I have had little chance to do, even though I care about recognition, reconciliation and self-determination issues. Those are big picture, but it's good to see some of the more small picture aspects - interactions with the local police and services, local community action and reaction, etc.
I know there are issues with me referring to Aboriginal people as a group in this way, but they face issues as a group - part of what I'm getting to do at the moment is recognising that on a more granular level. And I hope to break down some of my tendency to view things solely on a group level because I have more individual interaction. I know it's problematic, and I hope I fuck up as little in person as possible.
The Eora college next door has a good proportion of Aboriginal instructors as well as students, who I run into at local cafes, so that affords me the chance to get to know some folk more personally. I've met a couple of nice people that way.
...and then there's 'cup guy'. I haven't had the chance to get to know his name, but I know a bit about his personality and his 'personality'.
Cup guy sits outside Redfern station most days, holding out a cup for coins. He carries a backpack, or sometimes a wheeled shopping bag, which also contains cups. Some full of coins. He's in his mid-fifties, I'd guess. Full beard, craggy face, and pretty cheery disposition, given that a bunch of his day is sitting outside a station on a street exposed to the elements, waiting for folks to drop coins in his cup. I dop coins in about once a week - forgoing a cup of coffee to pass on some of my largesse. Bully for me, hey?
If you have time to stop and chat, he'll chat. He often chats to the scrawny guy who sells Big Issue at the station, and it seems like they have a pretty solid relationship. Sometimes you see him chatting to cops - some hassle him, and others are tolerant, or even friendly - protective of his position.
It seems, too, like being designated cup guy is a priviledged position. There's the occasional cup guy turf war. Days where there are three cup guys or girls, and the regular cup guy is squeezed out to take up a position on the corner of Little Eveleigh Street, about 20 feet away from the usual front-and-centre prime spot outside the station. He never looks vey happy when that happens. But he always ends up back in his usual spot. Here's the thing: the other cup guys/girls don't seem to be as successful as regular cup guy. He gets a lot of coins, and he gets help from other folks in the community.
Maybe the irregular gup guys/girls are blow-ins, maybe they are family members. Maybe they are cranky at cup guy's apparent monopoly on begging in the area. I don't know. Zero idea. I have no sense of right or wrong here.
The cops spend a lot more time interrogating the irregulars, I notice - Being known in the community, and having a routine, matters when it comes to attention. Being different is automatic cause for more scrutiny and suspicion.
I do the same. I see cup guy each day, and he becomes part of my landscape. Familiarity breeds ... not contempt, but at minimum acknowledgement of your place in things.
This morning he had a guitar, and was playing "who'll stop the rain," in the bright sunshine. That surprised me - I hadn't expected him to have a guitar. It made me think back to when, some months ago, he's been sitting in the pouring rain with his cup, looking bedraggled. It made me wonder, that day, what circumstances would make someone willing to sit and get drenched. Did he have any place else he could go?
One of these days, I'll have enough time in the morning that I'll sit down properly and maybe we'll share stories. Hopefully.
I know there are issues with me referring to Aboriginal people as a group in this way, but they face issues as a group - part of what I'm getting to do at the moment is recognising that on a more granular level. And I hope to break down some of my tendency to view things solely on a group level because I have more individual interaction. I know it's problematic, and I hope I fuck up as little in person as possible.
The Eora college next door has a good proportion of Aboriginal instructors as well as students, who I run into at local cafes, so that affords me the chance to get to know some folk more personally. I've met a couple of nice people that way.
...and then there's 'cup guy'. I haven't had the chance to get to know his name, but I know a bit about his personality and his 'personality'.
Cup guy sits outside Redfern station most days, holding out a cup for coins. He carries a backpack, or sometimes a wheeled shopping bag, which also contains cups. Some full of coins. He's in his mid-fifties, I'd guess. Full beard, craggy face, and pretty cheery disposition, given that a bunch of his day is sitting outside a station on a street exposed to the elements, waiting for folks to drop coins in his cup. I dop coins in about once a week - forgoing a cup of coffee to pass on some of my largesse. Bully for me, hey?
If you have time to stop and chat, he'll chat. He often chats to the scrawny guy who sells Big Issue at the station, and it seems like they have a pretty solid relationship. Sometimes you see him chatting to cops - some hassle him, and others are tolerant, or even friendly - protective of his position.
It seems, too, like being designated cup guy is a priviledged position. There's the occasional cup guy turf war. Days where there are three cup guys or girls, and the regular cup guy is squeezed out to take up a position on the corner of Little Eveleigh Street, about 20 feet away from the usual front-and-centre prime spot outside the station. He never looks vey happy when that happens. But he always ends up back in his usual spot. Here's the thing: the other cup guys/girls don't seem to be as successful as regular cup guy. He gets a lot of coins, and he gets help from other folks in the community.
Maybe the irregular gup guys/girls are blow-ins, maybe they are family members. Maybe they are cranky at cup guy's apparent monopoly on begging in the area. I don't know. Zero idea. I have no sense of right or wrong here.
The cops spend a lot more time interrogating the irregulars, I notice - Being known in the community, and having a routine, matters when it comes to attention. Being different is automatic cause for more scrutiny and suspicion.
I do the same. I see cup guy each day, and he becomes part of my landscape. Familiarity breeds ... not contempt, but at minimum acknowledgement of your place in things.
This morning he had a guitar, and was playing "who'll stop the rain," in the bright sunshine. That surprised me - I hadn't expected him to have a guitar. It made me think back to when, some months ago, he's been sitting in the pouring rain with his cup, looking bedraggled. It made me wonder, that day, what circumstances would make someone willing to sit and get drenched. Did he have any place else he could go?
One of these days, I'll have enough time in the morning that I'll sit down properly and maybe we'll share stories. Hopefully.