Waking up at the start of the end of the world, and it's feeling just like every other morning before

It never ceases to amaze me how much growing up I have to do on an almost daily basis.  I'd like to think that once a person reaches a certain age in adulthood that (I dunno, say, 30), that person gets to move forward with lessons learned and a solid sense of self.  This has in fact happened to some degree, but even at 36 I find that I often wonder what my life is going to be like when I "grow up." 

Case and point: the aforementioned woman of Wal-Mart is the perfect example of an eye-opener, and not in an expected way.  I told my mother not to get further involved because I understand people better than she does.  In fact, I'd say my mother is outright naieve in most regards, having lived an entirely sheltered suburban life; but she didn't listen and felt disappointed when the Wal-Mart woman started to take advantage of my parents' help.  Eventually I called Social Services to see if someone - anyone - could help.  It turns out the SS knows all about her, and the woman refuses help and is an alcoholic.  She has the social worker's card and access to a phone, so there's nothing more can be done.  This did NOT surprise me, of course, because this isn't my first rodeo.  My mother was crestfallen.  What I have noted lately that surprises me is others' reactions to tales like this one, not the least of which is Mom's.  In discussions about how to handle this whole thing, I warned her not to get too close; I specifically told her that while her actions were admirable, the best thing she could do was to try to help someone in a real way.  Feeding someone living in a car is a really nice thing to do, but it doesn't fix them or their situation and sometimes, I think it might make it worse, like when tourists in national parks feed wild animals and they forget to forage.

Especially concerning is the tandem conversation in which I complained that people don't see other people too often.  I get irritated when cars don't stop for crosswalks - particularly when I'm the pedestrian - but rather than yell at the rude folk, I throw up a hand of thanks to people who do stop.  I firmly believe you can change the world in which you live by promoting positive reinforcements to strangers.  My mother scoffed, "why would you thank someone for doing that which they're supposed to do?"  My response is, why wouldn't you?  When you have a blinker on and merging onto the highway, other drivers are supposed to let you over, but often they don't.  So I throw up another hand of thanks when someone does.  I say hello to neighbors when I'm walking the dog even if they ignore me or don't return the kindness.  I'm polite to telemarketers before I hang up on them because I know that they have these jobs because they're qualified for little else and OF COURSE they hate it.  I'm empathetic to grocery clerks and fast-food people when they are disgruntled and sometimes even when they're rude because maybe they're having a bad day.  But my Mom, god bless her, feels entitled.

Other folks I have talked to about this woman have similarly shocking responses.  Several have asked me why I've bothered at all.  When I tell the story of my student two summers ago who found himself homeless - and despite the fact that I could hardly stand this kid and he drove me crazy - I made phone calls and spent an afternoon helping him get a case worker.  I intervened on his behalf and then this woman took over, got him a job, place to stay, financial aid, and a year later he emailed me to say thanks and that he was doing well and still in school.  This is the kind of kid who probably barely passed high school, has been in jail on several occasions, is barely literate, likely a thief out of necessity, isn't terribly bright, and would otherwise be doomed to homeless street life or crime and he was, for the moment anyway, saved.  Not by me per se, but by the people I found to help him who know how to do that.  The shocking part is when others, and especially other teachers and profs, comment that they never would have done that.  One of them even said to me, "you're a teacher, not a social worker."  I often think there is little difference between the two, though.  It's impossible to be a good teacher without compassion, empathy, and even sympathy; I cannot fathom how teachers teach without getting to know their students.  I suppose they fall under the same category of parents who have no idea that their children are talking to strangers on MySpace or sawing off shotguns in privileged suburban neighborhoods.  They wouldn't have gotten involved with the homeless kid, and I dare say that the bulk of them would never have even gleaned the fact that this kid was carrying his whole life around campus with him, needed a bath, and had an aura of desperate loneliness.  How sad is this fact?

I know that I cannot save the world, but that should never prevent me from trying to make it at least marginally better one kind word or gesture at a time, and I don't even care if those things are "deserved" by the recipients.