by Irene Daniel
What can you do in 15 minutes? We hear commercials all day long about how much money we can save in 15 minutes. And in 15 minutes, we could have our government reopened. 15 minutes is about how long it would take for the U.S. House of Representatives to vote on such a measure, if only Speaker John Boehner would call for a vote. That is, if we were still running this country by majority rule, instead of by taking the struggling American economy hostage every time Congress has a check to write.
For there are plenty of votes in the House right now to pass a clean Continuing Resolution in which we take responsibility for paying America's bills. However, because this move would violate the GOP Hastert rule, which would require a majority of the Republican caucus to be in favor before it can be brought to the floor for a vote. So, because Democratic votes are needed to pass the CR right now, the House Speaker refuses to bring the clean CR to a vote. Still think there's no difference between parties?
There is a difference and that difference is visited most directly on our nation's children, especially our nation's poor children. For it is those without a voice, which these days necessitates hiring a K Street lobbyist, who are always the most vulnerable. They can't afford a lobbyist. Many of them come from homes where a single mother can barely afford school clothes, and some of them can't even afford new clothes and must rely on thrift shops and hand-me-downs. They say there's no shame in being poor, but tell that to children who do not understand why they can't have new clothes, or that bike or that video game.
I grew up poor. My family was on welfare when I was young and I remember how much shame and embarrassment I felt all the time; trying to hide my sense of being without and feeling left out because of it. Our food assistance was provided by way of federal commodities, FDA surplus, and we had to go to the welfare office on the other side of town to pick it up. Since we didn't have a car, my brother and I would ride our bikes to the office to retrieve a couple of boxes of food every month. I remember keeping my head down and pedaling very fast so that I could get it over with as soon as possible because I was so embarrassed. I always hoped my friends at school wouldn't see me, and if I saw them before they saw me, I would take a detour in order to avoid them because I didn't want them to see that I had been to the welfare office. I felt "less than." And this feeling was a contributing factor to an already low self-esteem, having recently survived a house fire on Christmas Day, as well as my parent's divorce at a time when divorce was not so common, especially among Mexican Catholics.
Fortunately for us, my two older brothers and I, we were provided not only food for our bodies, but fuel for our futures because we had Lyndon Johnson in the White House. And with Lyndon Johnson came Civil Rights, Voting Rights and the opportunities for jobs and education that were created by Sargent Shriver, the architect of the Great Society. So we had hope. We felt almost like these two men had walked into our living room and handed us a new way of life, instead of the hopeless shame of poverty and dejection.
When I turned on the TV as a child, I saw people who understood what it was like to be me: Martin Luther King, Jr., LBJ, Sargent Shriver, the Kennedys, Hubert Humphrey and many others. And I not only saw that they cared, I heard inspiration in their voices, telling me that I too, a poor Mexican girl growing up in a dusty desert town, could aspire to greater things; greater even than I could have imagined then. And I was inspired by them and took advantage of all that was offered: jobs, scholarships, grants, loans, and it took me all the way to the School of Law at UCLA.
From January 20, 1969 to January 20, 2009, children growing up in poverty didn't have those things, those powerful and empowering cheerleaders, urging me on to an education and a middle class life. In fact, for 40 years they had just the opposite, especially after the Reagan Revolution that brought us, not concern for one another, but the glorification of greed, exploitation and exclusion. While it was somewhat better for poor children after Reagan left office, there has never again been such an overwhelmingly affirming message of hope for those struggling in poverty such as that of 1960s. Let's face it, Bill Clinton sold us out with his welfare reform. I understand the political posturing of the day, but he still threw us under the bus.
It isn't just about government programs bringing opportunity, it was the tone and the atmosphere in which our fate was discussed. The Democrats in power in the 60s, and even some Republicans, spoke to and about the impoverished with respect and dignity; as fellow Americans eager to make our contributions to our Great Society, rather than as lowlifes who are responsible for their own lot. These are children I'm talking about here, not drug addicts, not "welfare queens," but children. Small children. White children. Black, Mexican and Native American children. Poor children. It's not their fault. So, why are they made to suffer the most?
I am no longer that lonely and traumatized little girl who felt dejected all the time. I am a mother and a wife, as well as a retired lawyer, a writer and an activist. I am all of those things because we once had in this country a truly Great Society that told me that I had something special to offer; and those people were right, not because I am more special than anyone, but because we all are. We all have something special to share that no one else has. Inside of all of us, and especially our children (for their dreams are still fresh) is something that only we can do, or give, or discover, or write. Words that only we can say, experiences that need us to bring them to be; we all have these things. And this was the underlying principle of not only the Great Society, but the New Deal as well.
I am not advocating a welfare state. Nor do I want a giant behemoth government that is unable to respond to the needs of the day. But I want a government big enough to feed hungry children and build them a decent school where they can learn and dream in a clean and safe environment. Thanks to Ike, I started first grade in a brand new school. We are big enough and wealthy enough to provide them with teachers worthy of them, who can be entrusted with fragile dreams, and can show them how to turn those dreams into their new reality. Just like me.
As with most such stories, and there are thousands of stories like mine, the subsequent revenue from taxes and creating jobs as middle-class Americans far exceeds the dollar amount expended on my family. And giving back for us was never just about money. All of us gave generously of our time by volunteering for causes we found worthy. The Great Society called to us. It not only gave us hope and a future, it made us better citizens, for now we too were vested in our society, our community and our country. It gave me a true love of my America for all the opportunity it gave me to grow my dreams and invest in my community.
The New Deal and the Great Society were products of their times and their leadership, and we cannot go back, nor could we even if we tried, for there is no political will to do so. Unfortunately for children living in poverty, nobody can make real money lobbying on their behalf, so their sadness and their feelings of being left out will go unnoticed in the cesspool of money that Washington has become.
But one thing we can do is feed them. We can do that, can't we? What if that were your child? Hungry and hopeless and afraid of the future? And we can at least stop talking about poor people as though they were the scourge of the earth. We can do that, can't we? Especially in a nation that professes nonstop its Christian roots?
It is up to us whether those children grow up to go to college, or to prison. A middle-class life? Or the endless cycle of addiction and incarceration? It is we, as a society, who decide these things. Because it is in the messages that we give, in myriad ways every day, that we communicate respect for them, or tell them that they are worthless.
15 minutes. What message do you want to send to our nation's poorest children?
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