We live in a culture that celebrates self-sufficiency. Figure it out. Handle your own problems. Don’t ask for help. It sounds like strength. It even feels right sometimes. But on the streets, that idea doesn’t last very long.

One Friday in Harlem, I was helping someone with a referral when a fight broke out right next to me. One man accused another of talking to the police. Within seconds, it escalated—shouting, then a punch, then chaos. And I froze. Clipboard in hand. Blood on the page. I didn’t step in. I didn’t know how. But someone else did.