Almost four centuries ago, William Shakespeare’s Hamlet wrestled with “To be or not to be. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune,” he wondered, “or take up arms against a sea of trouble.” In cities all over the country, it could not be more clear that black people are sick and tired of the “slings and arrows,” not to mention the beatings and the guns that have resulted in an untold number of dead black men, many of them young, killed by some of the same people who vowed to protect and serve members of their community.

As this is written, hundreds of thousands of Americans and millions of people all over the world are grieving the loss of a loved one to the COVID-19 virus. Compounding their grief exponentially is the reality that the vast majority of them were not able be with their mother, father, sister, brother, grandparent, or other loved one as they fought the virus, or worse, lost their lives.

Where have all the homeless people gone? If they’re lucky, they’re in hotel rooms and re-purposed buildings or facilities set up to test, treat, or protect them. In Memphis, where I’ve lived and worked in homelessness for a quarter of a century, I know where most of those that I’m familiar with have gone.

To give or not to give—cash to homeless people on the streets—is the question that’s asked at the end of almost every presentation I make on homelessness. Good-hearted people want to know what they should do when someone asks them for money—or, just as often, what do I do? They never get a short answer.