The Big Sell: My Experience As a Denver VOICE Vendor
By Cabal Yarne
Editor’s Note: On February 8, the Denver VOICE held The Big Sell, an annual event that takes place during the International Network of Street Paper’s (INSP) Vendor Week. The VOICE asked business leaders and members of the community to join us for two hours to shadow our vendors and learn about the work we do. In addition to vendors, staff members and several regular volunteers, we also had Cabal and Emily Yarne, owners of Link Coffee Bar at 1100 E. 17th Ave., participate. Rather than recap the afternoon in this issue, I am happy to share this article Cabal wrote about his experience that afternoon.
Left to Right: Cabal Yarne, Dylan Crowe, Emily Yarne, Dwayne Pride, Raelene Johnson. Photo Credit: Jennifer Seybold
Have you ever seen a homeless person literally risk their life running into traffic for a dollar from a kind passer-by? I now have a small understanding of what that dollar means and what joy it brings. Not only is it a dollar for food or something else important to that person’s survival; it’s a dollar that means someone cares, that they matter, that maybe the individual can make it.
Recently, my wife and I spent two hours on a Saturday afternoon supporting the Denver VOICE and their mission. It was an eye-opening experience, to say the least. The Denver VOICE is a newspaper that the homeless buy for $0.50, and in return, request a $2.00 suggested donation, which they then keep.
For those two hours, I was one of the most powerful people on the 16th St. Mall. I literally watched large, grown men look away and try to keep as much distance from me as possible. You know the type — the ones who might puff up their chests and show you how manly they are while passing you. I also witnessed a girl pull her boyfriend right out into moving traffic when he started to take the time to listen to me tell him about the VOICE. I was not even trying to sell to him.
Many people said, “No, thank you.” A lot of people just ignored me, and some wouldn’t even take a paper for free. There were positive experiences, as well. About 45 minutes after I started vending, a lady who probably did not have much money herself, came up to me and said, “I know the VOICE,” and gave me $5. Her generosity brought me to tears. The lady did not see me cry, yet, there I was, standing on the 16th St. Mall tearing up.
I am a business owner with multiple businesses, and I went out with a chip on my shoulder. I thought I would help the homeless person I joined for the day and would make a killing for him; I mean, it’s my thing. I’ll tell you what, the streets are humbling and knocked that chip off of my shoulder real fast.
Although vending the paper made me less approachable to the general public, something interesting happened: I became more approachable to the homeless and to what they experience. After the first generous lady helped me, I met another person who I believe was homeless, and who bought a paper for a stranger walking by. He let me know that Jesus loves me (he was that guy), and he really brought me joy and taught me a lot about my prejudgments. I also watched drugs get exchanged five feet in front of me between someone who appeared to be selling to a homeless individual. This really struck me hard. It is obviously pretty tough on the streets, and the vultures are sitting right in the middle of the homeless taking advantage of them. They can be right in front of you walking down the street, and you have no clue about it. I had just asked the dealer how he was doing right before he made the deal.
I had experiences like this, and then I would turn around and meet someone who understood what the paper was and donated money. Then, I would turn right back around and would hear someone say, “He must make hundreds of dollars a day.” I can tell you that I do not believe that is true. Do you ever hear the stories floating around that panhandlers make hundreds of thousands of dollars in a year? If that happens, in my opinion, pigs can fly. If they can make that much money on the street, trust me, they would make millions in a regular sales job.
The vendor we were helping sold five papers in the two hours we were with him, which amounted to $10.00. Those papers cost him a total of $2.50, so he netted $7.50 in two hours, or $3.75 per hour. You do the math. I would say it is really hard to make obscene amounts of money on the street. When we were done, we gave him the money we earned while selling the papers, and he turned around and asked us if we wanted some of it. Are you kidding me? This man is homeless, asking us if we want money. So many of us are so privileged and so blessed, and we don’t even realize it.
My hope in writing this is that it helps to educate those who do not know about the VOICE, learn what the paper means to the people that vend it. If you are walking past someone on the street vending the VOICE, understand that they did not steal those papers, and they are trying the best they can to make an honest living. If it is in your budget, buy a paper and help if you can. If your friends are with you, tell them about the street paper and how it works.
One big thing I realized when I was vending the paper is that foreigners understood it and what it was about better than most of us who live here in Denver. I met people from other countries, like Norway and Australia, who said they had a street paper in their country, too, and happily gave me a donation. Often, you wonder if the money you give to people on the street will go to drugs or other things you would not support, but with the VOICE, you know you are giving your money to someone who is trying to claw their way out of poverty to a better life.
In the city, you learn not to lift your head to acknowledge “beggars.” Eye contact usually means they will ask you for something. That is true, but I can tell you this: almost no one makes eye contact with them. That is why they often approach you if you do make eye contact. They know you care because you looked. If you choose not to give money, kindly look at them and say, “No, thank you, but good luck,” or anything nice. It makes a difference.
Please help us spread the word about the VOICE, and maybe, just maybe, together we can help more people fight their way off the street. ■