A Sense of Pity and Its Expressions That Sometimes Cause Misunderstanding

I still remember a senior person with a disability saying in a forum, “I don’t need pity.” Initially, I strongly agreed with that, but lately, I’ve felt a sense of pity for them too.

That’s why I’m a bit hesitant to use the word “pity” in front of seniors. In fact, when I see a small cat on the side of the road, I don’t dare express pity for it. It feels awkward around seniors.

It’s indeed a somewhat complicated feeling. But my senior acted that way because many people don’t understand that not all people with disabilities need immediate cash handed directly to them. This means it’s not pity itself that’s wrong, but rather the way we sometimes express that feeling towards others that is mistaken.

I am visually impaired, and that feeling of pity still exists within me. For example, when I was walking in Batu city square with my wife, I accidentally encountered a beggar. I immediately took money from my pocket and gave it to him. However, afterward, something annoying happened. The beggar returned the money.

Here’s the more detailed story: guided by a signal from my wife, I immediately directed my hand towards the can containing coins and some cash. Once I was sure my hand was directly over the beggar’s can opening, I prepared to release the money so it would fall inside. However, before my fingers could even let go of the money, the beggar suddenly grabbed my hand. And, he quickly took the money from my palm, rotated my hand, opened my grip, and then placed the money back on my palm. Like a teacher imparting knowledge to a student, he quipped, “Keep it for yourself, sir, you need it more.”

Now the roles had reversed. The person who was initially the target of pity was now pitying the giver. Perhaps he knew that the giver at that moment was a student, working on his thesis, with the potential to be unemployed after graduation, and only had money no more substantial than the amount of boogers stuck in his nose. So, it wasn’t wrong for him to assume that the person in front of him was no more fortunate than himself. That was my first assumption.

My second assumption was that perhaps there was a Public Order Agency (Satpol PP) unit patrolling nearby. So, he avoided them by making it seem as if the person with a disability in front of him was the beggar. That way, I would be the one arrested and disciplined by the local law enforcement.

Like pouring gasoline on a fire, this situation is exacerbated by media contributions that exploit sadness. For instance, a few years ago, there was a newly visually impaired person named Suga, who often complained sadly and constantly made noise on social media. With the help of an influencer, Suga received donations totaling 300 million [Rupiah], but reportedly, the donations were not used for their intended purpose.

“Suga is sad.” These words often appeared when I watched his videos on YouTube. Being sad is fine, but not constantly. I am also newly visually impaired, just like Suga, but from a different era. Suga happened to be in an era where social media was burgeoning, whereas I was not. If I were to become blind now, I might be tempted to do the same.

“Dendy is sad,” and I could get 300 million. But I don’t have the heart to do it. This is because many people still don’t understand meaningful inclusion and participation. By doing something like that, the consequence is that people will continue to view visual impairment or blindness as a tragedy and something to be pitied by giving money, often in public, and on an individual basis.

I don’t mean to blame people for giving. But the effect is that when I walk somewhere, I become a target for people who don’t quite understand how to express their pity. For example, when I’m walking in a public place, someone suddenly gives me money, even though I’m not begging.

Giving or showing compassion to one another can be done in various ways. Of course, these methods are hoped not to disturb comfort, with neither the giver nor the receiver having any objections.

For instance, directly approaching a zakat house or a charity collection body for better coordination and security. Or, most simply, visiting disability communities and organizing meaningful activities.

In this way, meaningful disability participation can also be experienced by everyone. It is well-known that money is linear with capacity or authority. Therefore, funding is crucial for an organization to carry out its operations or inclusion projects, as our community environment still doesn't fully understand disability inclusion.

This community-based development promises more independence than what is achieved through classic philanthropy. For example, by sharing donations within an organization, there will be an agreement between the donor and the organization's management. This way, we can develop business entities within the organization.

With the presence of an organizational business entity, daily activities can eventually be supported by that entity. Thus, collective independence can be achieved.

This collective independence can take the form of financial management, organizational management, and also the management of information for the organization and the community itself. In this way, the organization can build its brand and continue to strive to fulfill its vision and mission.

Now, we know that expressing pity isn't always about giving money to individuals with disabilities. Instead, it can be done through direct collaboration with disability organizations or communities by,

“Yes, giving fresh money.” (just kidding).