I’ve really been lucky in my life. I was born into a nice home with a loving family. I’m smart, tall-ish, and (let’s not pretend it isn’t an advantage in America) white. I’ve got a great job that pays well, a beautiful, wonderful, talented wife, and two kids that make me prouder that I ever dreamed I’d be. I own my own house, drive two new cars, and have been able to give my family every gizmo, gadget and geegaw that they could ever want.
But I haven’t always been lucky. Things were pretty lean with my familiy for a while when I was growing up. My parents tried their best to give me everything I wanted, and they certainly gave me everything I needed. I don’t know how I got conditioned against asking for things, but I know it’s not what my parents wanted. I just thought I knew what we could and couldn’t afford. And Kellie and I went through a stretch where things were really tight when we was trying to support a family of 3 with one on the way on an E-4’s salary: $17K with a little extra for food and shelter. Not poverty, but close enough not to feel any different.
I think our lowest point was living up in Fell’s Point. We couldn’t afford to get heating oil for our apartment and had to borrow a kerosene heater to keep everyone from freezing to death in their sleep. I remember the cold drives in the middle of the night to the only gas station that sold kerosene, hoping that the cash we had would be enough to keep everyone warm until payday. And then just hoping that the carbon monoxide wouldn’t kill us anyway. I remember having to decide which bills to pay late, asking each other: how long before they cut off the power? How long before they cut off the phone? Learning to recognize the difference between first notices and cut-off letters from the outside of the envelope.
But like I said, I’ve been lucky. I’m not here to complain. I’ve gotten help from other people every step of the way. Our old landlords Pat and Chip were more flexible with the rent than they had to be. My buddy Chad got me a better paying job than I’d ever imagined I’d have. My parents gave me everything they had and went without things they shouldn’t have. I can’t remember how long my dad went with the same pair of glasses, but when I wanted contact lenses in a failed attempt to stop being the biggest loser in my grade, he found a way to pay for them. And things kept getting better. We’re still trying to pay back all of the people we owe from those lean years: doctors and friends and family oh my.
So reading John Scalzi’s Being Poor brought back some uncomfortable memories. And watching a hurricane turn the gulf coast into a refugee camp brought back more. We’ve never had it as bad as the folks down there have it, but then again, that’s just luck. A hurricane can hit Maryland almost as easily as it can hit New Orleans. We don’t live below sea level here in Glen Burnie, but that’s just luck.
I’m not going to tell anybody to give to charity in all of this - you’ve already got every talking head, blogger and celebrity in the world telling you that. But for those of you who are lucky enough to be as well off as we are now, please don’t judge the people down in New Orleans. The pampered conservative white folks I know have spent the last week talking about how they should shoot looters, and complaining about how stupid people were to stay in the city. They only seem to have compassion for themselves while they deal with rising gas prices in their Ford Expeditions. Arm-chair quarter-backing the actions of people in a situation we can’t possibly understand is making me sick to my stomach.
And I’m tired of it. I want to play the first verse of Holiday in Cambodia for these folks:
So you been to school for a year or two
And you know you’ve seen it all
In daddy’s car thinkin’ you’ll go far
Back east your type don’t crawl
Play ethnicky jazz to parade your snazz
On your five grand stereo
Braggin that you know how the niggers feel cold
And the slums got so much soul
…but they’d just pretend to get offended by the N word and I’d start screaming. So give what you can if you want to, but hold back your judgement. Poor people have enough problems.