…don’t you
have to take challenge the myths, of prosperity, of the bootstrap, of a secure
middle-class? A New Kind Of Poverty
Winter flits in and
out of New York City in the late fall, hitching a ride on the wind that whips
the Hudson River. One cold morning not long ago, just as day was breaking, six
men began to shift beneath their blankets under a stone arch up a rise from the
water. In the shadow of the newest castle-in-the-air skyscraper midwifed by the
Baron Trump, they gathered their possessions. An hour later they had vanished,
an urban mirage. There’s a new kind of homelessness in the city, and a new kind of
hunger, and a new kind of need and humiliation, but it has managed to stay as
invisible as those sleepers were by sunup. "What we're seeing are many
more working families on the brink of eviction," says Mary Brosnahan, who
runs the Coalition for the Homeless. "They fall behind on the rent, and
that's it, they're on the street." Adds Julia Erickson, the executive
director of City Harvest, which distributes food to soup kitchens and food
pantries, "Look at the Rescue Mission on Lafayette Street. They used to
feed single men, often substance abusers, homeless. Now you go in and there are
bike messengers, clerks, deli workers, dishwashers, people who work on cleaning
crews. Soup kitchens have been buying booster seats and highchairs. You never
used to see young kids at soup kitchens." America is a country
that now sits atop the precarious latticework of myth. It is the myth that work
provides rewards, that working people can support their families. It's a myth
that has become so divorced from reality that it might as well begin with the
words "Once upon a time." According to the U.S. Department of
Agriculture, 1.6 million New Yorkers, or the equivalent of the population of
Philadelphia, suffer from "food insecurity," which is a fancy way of
saying they don't have enough to eat. Some are the people who come in at night
and clean those skyscrapers that glitter along the river. Some pour coffee and
take care of the aged parents of the people who live in those buildings. The
American Dream for the well-to-do grows from the bowed backs of the working
poor, who too often have to choose between groceries and rent. Even if you've never
been to the Rescue Mission, all the evidence for this is in a damning new book
called "The Betrayal of Work"
by Beth Shulman, a book that should be required reading for every presidential
candidate and member of Congress. According to Shulman, even in the go-go '90s
one out of every four American workers made less than $8.70 an hour, an income
equal to the government's poverty level for a family of four. Many, if not
most, of these workers have no health care, sick pay or retirement provisions. We salve our
consciences, Shulman writes, by describing these people as "low
skilled," as though they're not important or intelligent enough to deserve
more. But low-skilled workers
today are better educated than ever before, and they constitute the linchpin of
American industry. When
politicians crow that happy days are here again because jobs are on the rise,
it's these jobs they're really talking about. Five
of the 10 occupations expected to grow big in the next decade are in the
lowest-paying job groups. And
before we sit back and decide that that's just the way it is, it's instructive
to consider the rest of the world. While the
bottom 10 percent of American workers earn just 37 percent of our median wage,
according to Shulman, their counterparts in other industrialized countries earn
upwards of 60 percent. And those
are countries that provide health care and child care, which cuts the economic
pinch considerably. In America we console
ourselves with the bootstrap myth, that anyone can rise, even those who work
two jobs and still have to visit food pantries to feed their families. It is a
beloved myth now more than ever, because the working poor have become ever more
unsympathetic. Almost 40 years ago, when Lyndon Johnson declared war on
poverty, a family with a car and a Dutch Colonial in the suburbs felt
prosperous and, in the face of the president's call to action, magnanimous.
Poverty seemed far away, in the shanties of the South or the worst pockets of
urban blight. Today that same family may well feel impoverished, overwhelmed by
credit-card debt, a second mortgage and the cost of the stuff that has become
the backbone of American life. When the middle class feels poor, the poor have
little chance for change, or even recognition. Does anyone think twice about
the woman who turns down the spread on the hotel bed? A living wage,
affordable health care and housing, the bedrock understanding that it's morally
wrong to prosper through the casual exploitation of those who make your
prosperity possible. It's a tall order, I suppose. The lucky thing for many Americans
is that they don't even have to see or think about it. The office hallways get
mopped somehow, the shelves get stocked at the stores. And on Thanksgiving Day,
children will be pushed up to the table for a free meal in a church basement or
a soup kitchen, with the understanding that that is the point of the holiday--a
day of plenty in a life of want. http://www.msnbc.com/news/997103.asp?0dm=N11QO |
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