PROVIDENCE, R.I. — Francis White spent Thursday morning "flying a sign" on North Main Street. This is his term for begging, a morning ritual during his two years without a home.

"It makes me feel like dirt, lower than dirt at times, standing out there like that," he said, his blue eyes clouding with tears. "I don't feel right about it. But you have to survive."

White, 42, is a panhandler, one of many people on the streets here and elsewhere relying on money from strangers to get by. The antagonistic behavior of some beggars downtown prompted the City Council to pass an ordinance in 2002 banning "aggressive panhandling." Violators can be fined up to $500 and face up to 30 days in jail.

Recently, Mayor Jorge Elorza, under pressure from the American Civil Liberties Union of Rhode Island, agreed to suspend enforcement of the prohibition.

The ACLU says this isn't good enough — they want the ordinance taken off the books. But the City Council is in no rush to do that and says stopping enforcement is "sufficient."

For many, like White, walking downtown with a cardboard sign and a Dunkin' Donuts cup begging for money is not just a way of life — it's the only way to make ends meet. He wants a job, a bed, a clean slate. But most of all, he wants to sock away enough money to take his 13-year-old nephew to a game at Fenway Park. A lifelong Red Sox fan, he said he's never been near the ballpark.

In 2012, White's life went from shaky to shattered. His marriage of 14 years ended and his father died. He starting using drugs. He lost his job. His mind "hasn't been in the right place" since, he said.

He started living on the streets.

He tried to get a job and to apply for public housing, but he's still on "a list," he said. He was arrested for credit-card fraud in 2008, and it's loomed over him ever since. His only source of consistent income is a $580-a-month disability check. White was born premature, at just 3 pounds, with water on the brain, he said.

Each month, after he gets food, sends money to his sister to help his nephew and pays court fees and other expenses, he has about $30 to his name, he said. So he grabs his sign: "homeless anything helps, god bless" and stands near the roadway on North Main.

This worked well enough until an afternoon in July 2015 when he was picked up for "aggressive panhandling." He spent the night in jail.

"What am I supposed to do?" he said. "I'd rather do this than be out there selling drugs or robbing people. No one will hire me."

Bobby Medeiros, 54, is a recovering alcoholic with a quick smile and a thick beard. After years living on the streets, he moved into an apartment in South Providence. He's disabled — "missing fingers and toes," he said — and has a few misdemeanor charges (for marijuana possession and driving under the influence) from the 1990s and early 2000s on his record. It's making it "impossible" for him to get a job, he said.

He receives a $721 Supplemental Security Income payment each month. More than half of that goes toward his rent —$375 for a room he shares— and another $100 or so pays court fines, he said in an interview. This leaves him about $250 a month to divvy up among bill payments, food, co-pays, prescription costs, and other living expenses.

So he and his companion Snoopy — a lethargic Jack Russell-boxer mix that Medeiros affectionately calls his son and sponsor — set up at Dorrance and Westminster streets almost every day. He puts out his sign, which reads: "No Need for drugs. No Need for drinkin. Just need to eat and live. Thank you. God Bless u."

"I'm not here to be greedy or take from people, I'm just happy with my life, he said. "But the money runs out. "You want to have a dollar in your pocket and be able to feel like a man."

Passed in April 2002, the Providence panhandling ordinance was seen as a way to "promote quality of life" in the city. But, advocates from the ACLU, local shelters and outreach groups say the law discriminates against the homeless community, is unconstitutional and a violation of First Amendment free speech rights.

Medeiros has not been arrested for this — "not yet, anyway," he said — but many others have. Providence police made more than 150 arrests for aggressive solicitation from July 2013 to June 2015, according to police records.

Thomas Brown, 27, was picked up outside a 7-Eleven on Cranston Street in July on charges that he "held his hand out, palm upward," when customers exited, according to police reports. And later that month, Thomas Watson, 58, was arrested after "shoving a white cardboard cup at people" on Thayer Street, according to police.

Police Chief Hugh Clements said Providence, like many other cities, has a housing problem. "The last thing we want to do is criminalize homelessness. We just want to enforce the law," he said.

In an interview with The Journal, Elorza said he is working on creating a solution, starting with an economic impact study of chronic homelessness in the city. He hopes to roll out improved policies when that research is complete.

"What it comes down to is these folks need treatment and not jail," Elorza said.

But in the meantime, life is frustrating, and hurtful, for people in the streets, said Matt Nardolillo, 28. Nardolillo, who was homeless but now lives in Woonsocket, was arrested in July outside the Dunkin' Donuts on Westminster Street.

Nardolillo said he stopped to check a text message on his phone. Police records say he was "impeding the flow into the restaurant." He was charged with aggressive solicitation.

"It just sucks," Nardolillo said. "I don't want to be out here. It's hard. It hurts. When you get picked up on something like this, it feels like no one wants to help you — they just want to make things harder."

Fining and jailing the poor is "terribly ironic," said Steven Brown, Rhode Island ACLU executive director. People begging for a spare dollar don't have hundreds stashed away to pay a court fine, he said.

Megan Smith, a case manager for House of Hope CDC, helps many of the accused "aggressive panhandlers" navigate the court system. She helps them pay fines and fight subsequent bench warrants when they can't.

"As a society we need to create a system where panhandling is not the best option to meet basic needs," she said.

But until then, Medeiros says, "Remember, we're human, you know what I'm saying? We don't want to be out here."

-jtempera@providencejournal.com

(401) 277-7121

@jacktemp

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