Often, on a nice morning, I like to sit on the front porch enjoying a cup of coffee and observing the neighborhood. Most mornings, no matter what season it is, I will be privy to the conversations of the people across the street who occupy one of the two ramshackle houses on our block that always seem to be rented despite their poor condition and constant need of being repaired.Possibly, this type of housing is all they can afford. While the conversation frequently is about getting a job and how much places like McDonalds pay (with an occasional comment thrown in about a friend’s most recent incarceration) there is never any movement towards finding a job. Other than their limited communication skills, they don’t appear to be handicapped, but sitting on the porch is apparently better than looking for work or actually working. Not that the absence of a job affects their lifestyle. Their yard is peppered with logos for the Chiefs and K-State and an ever-growing supply of plastic toys. Their house is always decorated for Halloween or Christmas and they have the biggest 4th of July fireworks display on the block.
Bear in mind as you read this, that I have no distain for the poor or for being poor, only the poor choices and actions on the part of many of those today with limited means. I, like many of my fellow Americans in those years after the war, grew up poor by today’s standards, but we were an ambitious, hardworking, and proud poor. No one in my neighborhood was affluent. Our standard of living certainly would be considered poor by today’s standards. We did not own a lot of toys, but we had big yards, old clothes to dress up in, and a big wooded area at the end of the street that provided hours of possibilities for exploration. There was no money for movies. In fact, my parents couldn’t, or wouldn’t afford a television until I was out of high school. A big treat for us was popcorn or an ice cream cone from Dairy Queen on a Sunday evening.
Our cars were always second hand and if only five years old, were considered to be a really new car. Function was more important than impressing the neighbors and all the men in the neighborhood possessed the skills to keep anything mechanical functioning long past the manufacture’s intent. In addition to the hours my father spent at the Ford plant, he could be found under the car or tinkering with the washing machine or furnace to eke out a few years more service before they were completely unrepairable. I can’t recall ever seeing a plumber or electrician making repairs at our house. My father either did the work himself or sought assistance from one of the neighbors. The neighbors were all in the same situation and we shared our meager resources.
We shared everything. My mother was the neighborhood baker and there were always cookies for the neighborhood children and pies or cakes for the neighbor women to enjoy over a cup of coffee. My mother was also the neighborhood gardener and kept the neighborhood supplied with fresh vegetables and the fruits of her labor like pickles and fresh strawberry jam. Betty, the only mother in the neighborhood to work outside the home, would keep her eye out for bargains in everyone’s size and occasionally would bring home a sweater, skirt, or pair of pants that she thought might fit one of us. One of the neighbor’s aunt and uncle, who had no children of their own, would take several of us swimming once or twice during the summer. Our lives were full of the necessities, food, shelter, and family. Whatever material possessions we were missing were compensated for by the love and security that we enjoyed.
The poor today do not enjoy such advantages. They have been sold the concept that they are not capable of taking care of themselves. Their initiative and sense of self-worth has been destroyed and they are truly impoverished. They are faced with a future of meaningless days filled with television and junk food, neither of which nourish the mind or body. They may have more of the material goods that we were missing when I grew up, but they have none of the things that embolden the spirit and give a feeling of well-being.
We have authorized our government to impoverish the spirits of millions while pretending to take care of them in their hour of need. Instead of giving them a hand up, we give them perpetual handouts and subject them to a life of dependence. We have robbed them of the joy that comes from being productive members of society.