TheHeretic
Posts: 19100
Joined: 3/25/2007 From: California, USA Status: offline
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I settled back in my chair this morning, with a fresh cup of coffee at hand, and started reading a New York Times Magazine piece on President Obama's early work as a community organizer in Chicago. Unfortunately, I couldn't get past how the author started off, and the picture he painted of the community in question, and for the whole rest of the piece, as it goes through a litany of poverty programs, I kept looking for that simple, yet huge, thing to be addressed. It isn't. You can read the article here He begins by describing a ride-along with a current community activist in a Chicago neighborhood, and comes quickly to this: quote:
Gates pulled the car up in front of Jasmine’s house on Lafayette Avenue, and Jasmine ran in to fetch her brother, Damien, who was also enrolled in YAP. Their house looked small and battered. The metal gate guarding the front door was torn off its hinges, and there was a fist-size hole in the front window. Damien, a handsome 17-year-old, sauntered out to the car behind Jasmine, and the two of them piled in the back while Gates kept the car running for warmth. “Man, it’s critical in our house,” Damien said with a little laugh. “It’s cold!” Jasmine said. “You go in there, you think you still outside.” Damien and Jasmine’s mother had been fighting a long, losing battle with the gas company. The previous summer, after she failed to pay the heating bill, the company shut off the gas line. Now there was no heat at all, winter had arrived in force and that hole in the living-room window let in a steady stream of frigid air all night long. Ok, we'll assume the landlord is a scumbag who won't fix the window properly, but what the fuck? If the hole in the window lets in a steady stream of frigid air all night long, COVER THE MOTHERFUCKING HOLE! A couple pieces of scrap cardboard, duck tape, maybe a few plastic bags sandwiched in for insulation? 3 minutes? The guy driving the car our intrepid reporter is riding in, is a full-time employee of an agency that is supposed to mentor young people, to help them develop the skills to move out of poverty, and they are all sitting in the car, talking about how cold it is in the house. It is right and proper, as I often say, that a nation such as ours should have a safety net, but dammit, if the programs can't help people see the simplest matters of helping themselves, we need a change of paradigm. The author comes back around to the people he introduced at the beginning. Two years later, Damien is getting a plaque, and there is a hole in his living room window, but it's summer, and not such a big deal.
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