Apologies to Bob Herbert and teacherken for plagiarizing their title.
I'm a long-term substitute at a school in a rural district in Illinois. Yesterday, a speaker from Milwaukee, Ron Glodoski, came and addressed our students about alcohol, drugs and abuse. One part of his program floored me.
"How many of you have had a loved one die -- brother, sister, mother, father, close aunt or uncle -- because drugs or alcohol?" he asked. "Stand up if you have.
"How many of you have a loved one in prison because of drugs or alcohol?
"How many of you have seen a loved one lose a job because of drugs or alcohol?
"How many of you have experienced violence at home because of drugs or alcohol? Stand up and raise your hands." A sea of hands went up, including the hands of many students already standing.
"How many of you have lost a close friend, through accident or illness or suicide, because of drugs or alcohol?"
By the time he finished asking these questions, nearly every student in the audience was standing.
In fact, easily two-thirds of the audience stood up for the first question, and with each subsequent question, about half the students who were still sitting stood up.
When we think about poverty, when we think about violence, we think about the inner city. And it's true, urban poverty is entangled with other social ills that make it hard to escape.
But the problem is just as bad in rural areas, such as the nearly all-white Breadbasket town where I've been working. There are few jobs on the West Side and South Side of Chicago; there are few jobs here, either. There are drug dealers on the West Side and South Side of Chicago; there are drug labs here. I've had students miss days of school because agents raided their homes those mornings. The typical family on the West Side or South Side of Chicago is unstable, ad hoc, a jumble of parentage and a blur of responsibility. The typical family here is unstable, ad hoc, a jumble of parentage and a blur of responsibility. Students come to school sad, stressed and demoralized on the West Side and South Side of Chicago. Students come to school sad, stressed and demoralized here.
"How many of you have been told you were stupid, lazy, no-good, a failure who'd never amount to nothin'?" Glodoski asked the students. Easily four-fifths of the students raised their hands.
"What the thinker thinks, the prover proves," I thought to myself.
Some of these kids will be lucky enough to escape this tiny town. Some will be resilient enough to endure it mostly intact . . . but they may still pass the same pattern down to their own kids, if only in a watered-down form. Most, sadly, will repeat the cycle unless something is done to save them. And no one is doing enough to save them. The underfunded school district, where teachers with master's degrees make only $35,000 a year, can't save them. Their families aren't equipped to save them. And unlike in the inner city, where at least a drop-in center or a street outreach program can make contact with thousands of children and maybe make a difference for a few dozen, here there is no such thing, because there's no critical mass of population to make such a thing possible.
No wonder Republicans are in a panic about the state of the American family. Get outside a large or medium-size metropolitan area, and the state of the American family is apocalyptic, a confusing mess in which stability is a fantasy, violence and verbal abuse are pervasive, and everyone resents someone for something. No wonder the residents of "red" counties flee to "family values" churches for security -- out here, it seems like church is the only force that can counter the disintegration, and even church can only do so much.
With jobs drying up, without money for the schools, without the population density for recreation and enrichment activities, what is there to relieve the bleakness of life? There's TV. There are video games. There's gossip. And there are drugs and alcohol.
This is America today.
This is what the flight of jobs has done to us.
This is what underinvestment in schools does to us.
This is what violence, despair and lack of empathy do to us.
This is what the loss of our dignity does to us.
This is the peril we're in.
What are our leaders going to do about it?
What are we going to do about it?
May all be safe from danger.
May all be happy.
May all be healthy.
May all live with ease.
--Buddhist metta (compassion) mantra