Jonathan Kozol talks with people
who live in the most depressed and extreme circumstances, in neighborhoods in
the South Bronx. In Amazing Grace he
tells the stories of people he gets to know in the early 90s. At the end of a
subsequent book, he points to some improvements in some of the neighborhoods since
then, but makes note of much that remains the same. In particular, some
neighborhoods in the South Bronx remain the poorest places in the country; in
these neighborhoods, public education has not made any improvements and
continues to exponentially fail most of its students; and although he doesn’t
mention this in the more recent book, HIV infection has actually grown worse of
late. In Amazing Grace, he tells the
stories of the numbers of people who know numbers of people who have been
infected and died of AIDS. These rates seem to be in line with other places
where there has been little access to health education, prevention, and
medication/treatment. How the rates of HIV can be on the rise now in these
neighborhoods in NY (or anywhere in the world for that matter), when cases have
been decreasing across the country for some time now, is incomprehensible.
Among other amazing and
incomprehensible details, in Amazing
Grace, he takes a moment to show the fatigue that is omnipresent among
people living in poverty who are beat down, and then beat down again, through
every endeavor: from simply walking up the stairs to their 10th
floor apartments when the elevator is broken and being beaten or robbed, to
spending hours and days in government
offices reapplying for benefits and aid regularly cancelled and rearranged
within inefficient and discriminatory bureaucratic systems. The benefits and
aid were originally intended to help people get on their feet so they could
catch up and move on. Now, there is never a way to catch up, nothing to move on
to: there is no accessible, real education for the kids, there are few jobs for
the adults, there are no resources available to help anyone develop skills or
encounter opportunities so they can break out of the circle of poverty. The
details, in the words of the people Kozol gets to know over many years, are
more striking, personal, and distressing than any cursory summary can really
acknowledge. The passage that addresses this kind of fatigue, this pushing the
boulder uphill and going backwards, says a lot to show a story about the poor
that is not the evening Fox News version of “the takers.” Here are some
selections from that:
“…when I think about m y
conversation with the woman who cooks for the children and the homeless people
in the kitchen of St. Ann’s and her reaction to the way she was turned down
when she had asked for medical treatment at Mount Sinai, it is the aching
weariness within her voice that stays the longest in my mind. Some of this
weariness, I imagine, must reflect the cumulative effect of many years of
difficult encounters like the one she has described; and some may be the
consequence of many other pressures and humiliations in her life. But weariness
among the adults in Mott Haven does not always call for complicated
explanations. A lot of it is simply the sheer physical result of going for long
periods of time with very little sleep because of the anxiety that seems so
common, nearly chronic, among many people here.
…
“There is a great deal of
discussion in the papers and on television panels about “apathy” and
“listlessness” and lack of good “decision-making kills” among the mothers of
poor children… I rarely hear the people on these TV panels talk about such
ordinary things as never getting a night of good deep sleep because you’re
scared of bullets coming through the window from the street. In this respect
and many others, the discussion of poor women and their children is divorced
from any realistic context that includes the actual conditions of their lives.
“The statement … that embattled
neighborhoods like the South Bronx have undergone a “breakdown of the family”
upsets many women that I know, not because they think it is not true, but
because those who repeat this phrase, often in an unkind and censorious way, do
so with no reference to the absolute collapse of almost every other form of
life-affirming institution in the same communities. “Nothin’ works here in my
neighborhood,” Elizabeth says. “Keepin’ a man is not the biggest problem.
Keepin’ from being’ killed is bigger. Keepin’ your kids alive is bigger. If
nothin’ else works, why should a marriage work?
…
“”Of course the family structure
breaks down in a place like the South Bronx!” says a white minister who works
in one of New York City’s poorest neighborhoods. “Everything breaks down in a
place like this. The pipes break down. The phone breaks down. The electricity
and heat break down. The immune agents of the heart break down. Why wouldn’t
the family break down also?
““If we saw the people in these
neighborhoods as part of the same human family to which we belong, we’d never
put them in such places to begin with. But we do not think of them that way. That is one area of ‘family breakdown’
that the experts and newspapers seldom speak of. They speak about the failures
of the mothers we have exiled to do well within their place of exile.””
Most of us cannot imagine the
conditions for survival in these most neglected places. But disenfranchising
people is a continuing trend, and the practice is moving up the economic
ladder: more lower paying jobs, less accessibility to quality education and
resources for self and professional improvement, more attacks on organizations
that help people to have job stability and pay (like labor unions), and more
people in the middle classes failing to find stability and falling into the minimum
wage work force and into poverty. The South Bronx is the extreme example, in a
system of stratification, that seems to be growing worse. The stratification a
result, maybe among other things, of a continued systematic racism that pushes
people to the edges of society, refuses to offer any means of escape (and actively
sabotages any real possibilities that come along), and them blames them for
failing and dying. Those who transcend always have some story of serious and
constant intervention from some outside force or a miraculous internal
motivation and accompanied access to opportunities, or a combination of those. The
majority, though, don’t turn into the exceptional examples that society then uses
to blame the majority for failing to succeed, even though the narratives of the
exceptional ignore the actual details that show what made success possible.
To find out more about this mini-essay project see the Introduction:The (Contingent)(Academic)(Teacher) in 2015
To find out more about this mini-essay project see the Introduction:The (Contingent)(Academic)(Teacher) in 2015
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