I'm having a hard time not feeling cynical right now. The situation
in NOLA has illuminated some of the greatest problems in the United
States, and those are poverty and classism. I can't help but fear that,
much like the All-American patriotic comraderie that swelled after
9/11, once the proverbial dust settles, we will all return to the
comfortable oblivion of watching The O.C. and Fear Factor re-runs,
maybe placating a charity or two, getting fired up around presidential
elections, but not reallydoing much of anything that extends
outside of our self-centered comfort zones. I'm guilty of doing it too.
I'm guilty of being too busy, of not feeling like it makes enough of a
difference to even bother, of forgetting how many people I needed and
how many people still need me.
For anyone asking the blame-the-victim question about Katrina's
victims' "They had warning, why didn't they leave?" I recommend John
Scalzi's wrenching blog post, Being Poor.
...John Scalzi offers a great post
to remind us that, in addition to the catastophic consequence of
poverty that we are seeing in NOLA, there are daily tragedies, little
hurricanes (to rephrase Tori Amos), that are "normal" for people who
are poor. There are things you endure that you never forget and
still, there are things that others have endured that I can hardly
imagine.
Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.
Being poor is Goodwill underwear.
Being poor is a six-hour wait in an emergency room with a sick child asleep on your lap.
Being poor is knowing where the shelter is.
Being poor is a heater in only one room of the house.
Being poor is hoping your kids don't have a growth spurt.
Being poor is people angry at you just for walking around in the mall.
Being poor is never buying anything someone else hasn't bought first.
Being poor is people wondering why you didn't leave.
