Hope.
It speaks to our dreams.
Politicians realize this.
“The man from Hope."
“Hope and Change."
Hope is the core theme of the popular film, The Shawshank Redemption.
Schools are bastions of hope. As I wrote to our school’s extraordinary staff a few years ago: “To our children you provide hope. Hope … what a wonderful word, perhaps the best word in the English language.”
I wish I could state that our schools are always successful. Unfortunately the intrusion of the real world tears at the hopes and dreams of our young people just at the time they are coming to grips with the realities of their impoverished lives.
When there is a student death, it is the the down and out kids who are most impacted, even when the student who dies is not close to them. When I was younger, I thought their grief was a cynical ploy to get out of class. A older and wiser colleague corrected my misconception.
“These kids aren't simply mourning the death of their classmate," he told me. "They are mourning for themselves. School is the place where things make sense. It’s the place that emphasizes hopes and dreams. It is their safe place. Kids aren't supposed to die. The death of a young person shatters the illusion of safety."
Some of these students eventually succumb to hopelessness. They come to the realization that the American Dream isn't meant for them. A few take their own lives. Most sink into a life of existing from day to day, and develop an armor of cynicism in an attempt to protect themselves from harshness of their reality.
Life is harsh and they age quickly. At 40 many appear broken and beaten down. Some are so thin as to appear anorexic. Many others are obese, belying their poverty. Their only pleasures may be a few cigarettes and perhaps some cheap snacks.
Elites across the political spectrum can barely disguise their contempt for the lifestyles of the hopeless. The right wing denigrates impoverished people of color. Liberals mock the poor white underclass. The poor are chastised for their choices as if forgoing cigarettes would suddenly elevate their life chances and lift them into upper middle class comfort.
Unfortunately fewer young people are escaping the grip of poverty and in fact just the opposite is happening. Lower middle class kids, despite playing by the rules of the game and doing all the right stuff, find themselves sinking into the ranks of the working poor. The working poor are becoming part of the expendable marginalized class.
While the disparity in income continues to grow, most of those at the top either refuse to see or actually are pleased with the present state of affairs.
Some in the elite class are truly clueless and, though perhaps well-intentioned, continue to offer the same tired bromides.
Others are callous and indifferent to the suffering of those below. For these heartless folks it does not bother them that the hopelessness of the poor “sags like a heavy load”, as Langston Hughes wrote years ago.
In fact the heavier the load the impoverished must bear and the more cynical the underclass becomes, the better it is for those at the top. There is historical evidence indicating that often the more hopeless the situation is for the oppressed, the less likely are they to push back against their oppressors … but not all evidence points that way.
Perhaps the lower classes will continue to allow their hopes to be crushed and their dreams destroyed.
Perhaps not.
Harlem
by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore -
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over - like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
