Tuesday, March 11, 2014

On being asked, "Why are there poor people?" by a book at book club...


             Who is poor and how should we treat them? The history is interesting though his writing style seems to leave the juicy details in the footnotes disappointingly.  Tracking attitudes about the poor seems like a job that could easily dredge up some interesting and shocking language from pop culture. Anyway, as I think about this I feel like giving our culture a break. The question of who should and shouldn’t be considered poor, who deserves help and who doesn’t is ultimately knotty because of the fact that it’s a micro and macro issue. Any one individual’s situation is a STORY, a set of discrete circumstances. It’s not as though every impoverished person will have an easy villain we can target to pinpoint the cause of their misfortune. But we’re simple animals. We evolved from the chimpanzees who were skittish enough to run up a tree when the wind rustled the tall grass, not from those who chose to ignore it and had their throats ripped out by a saber-toothed tiger. Effects must have causes, and our brains demand that those causes be clear, near, and simple. So the man in heavy work clothes holding a cardboard sign I drove past on the way here? The literal hundreds of us who passed him on Noland Road had to take at least a moment – consciously or unconsciously – to figure out why we didn’t stop and help him.
                I tend to lean towards the micro. If I give him $5, that’s enough to buy just enough of something to contribute to his possible dependency problem. Of course, therein lies the prejudice. That story makes sense to me – beggar takes his alms and runs to perpetuate his problems. I’ve hurt him by helping him. Of course, I also see the macro, and it leaves me equally paralyzed. Here’s a person with limited options, whose misfortunes have put him in a position of shame the equal of which our society only has a few levels below – maybe the bright orange jumpsuit of the “perp walk”. And even if he turned my $5 into a small bottle of booze to help the obliterate the pain temporarily, the trap is unavoidable. ‘Why doesn’t he get a job?’ I’m sure many other drivers think on their way by him. As though it were that easy. There’s that monkey brain again: him need money, job give money, him need job, why him not go get job.  The psychological, social, emotional, legal, and familial load that any person bears everywhere tangles and twists. Things are complicated. But we want simple answers.
         As I read this though, I found myself catching whiffs of an anti-capitalist sentiment that I find troubling. It’s not that I don’t see problems with capitalism; it’s that poking holes in the system doesn’t create a new and better system. So I find myself wondering, well, what then? I certainly don’t trust “the market” to solve all of our ills, but I can’t wrap my brain around many solutions that would effectively “end” poverty. 
          Prepare yourself for a massive leap of an analogy: Today my students read “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.” After getting past all the literal interpretations : “he’s an assassin who is going to kill someone,” “he’s a robber who is going to the man who owns the woods house,” “he’s lost in the woods.” We started digging into the poem. As with any great poem the experience, no matter how many times you’ve read that poem with that type of kid, is always massively different. We honed our analysis in on this moment. There he is contemplating those “lovely, dark, and deep” woods – pining for them (pun intended). But what moves him on? What pushes him forward? “I have promises to keep.” My students began to discuss life as a never ending series of obligations pushing us forward, creating our meaning for us. And when I read this, I find myself thinking that (and I know this is a horrible thought probably planted in my liberal brain my brilliant and conservative father) maybe the gritty and sometimes vicious results of poverty are the gears of capitalism turning. That without the threat of those consequences, we stare into the deep, dark forest and wander off into the snow.

No comments:

Post a Comment