Dignity

Dignity

Adult nonfiction
"Much of the back row of America, both white and black, is
humiliated. The good jobs they could get straight out of high school
and [sic] gave the stability of a life long career have left. The
churches providing them a place in the world have been cast as
irrational, backward, and lacking. The communities that provided
pride are dying, and into this vacuum have come drugs. Their entire
worldview is collapsing, and then they are told this is their own
fault: they suck at school and are dumb, not focussed enough, not
disciplined enough."
What do you think of when you hear the word dignity? For me it
has three componants. The first is having a way to provide for the
basic needs of self and loved ones. It's hard to have dignity when
your children are crying because they're hungry and an eviction notice
has been put on your door. The second is the belief that what you
need to sustain life will continue to be available and that, with
work, one can do a little better. [My partner has worked in
construction practically since high school graduation. When our Adam
was in elementary school the allure of the big machines was quite
strong. One day when he said, "When I grow up I'm going to be a
construction worker just like you," Eugene replied, "No, you won't.
You'll do better. You'll go to college. You'll work with your head,
not your hands."] The third is being validated by the world, treated
as somebody of worth."
Using my definition of dignity, a lot of people are being denied
it: people of color, Muslims, immigrants, and the folks Chris Arnade,
author of Dignity, describes as back row. [Recall in school how the
strivers sat up front and the unengaged congregated in the back row?]
They're the folks who remember when life was better for them, the ones
whose hearts Trump reached when he promised to make America great again.
Arnade made it out of a Southern working class town and had it
all: the money, the prestige, the career, the home in a posh
neighborhood--only to find there was something missing. As he became
less engaged in his work, he began spending time in a neighborhood he
was warned to stay out of (too dangerous) soliciting stories and
taking pictures.
During this time Arnade was asked to leave his job. Unlike most
of us, he didn't have to scramble to find another one right off. He
became more involved in the neighborhood and then took his act on the
road, visiting cities across America, staying in the "too dangerous,"
neglected, left behind sections. He talked to the people wherever
they were, finding them eager to share their stories with someone who
wasn't there to pass judgement on them or to save their souls. He
learned about the many ways in which they felt disrespected by those
who had left them behind.
"It was three years of seeing just how messy life really is.
How filled with pain, injustice, ambiguity, and problems too big for
any one problem to address. It was also three years of seeing how
resilient people can be, how community can thrive anywhere, even amid
pain and poverty.
Most of all I ended up finding what is often overlooked in
stigmatized neighborhoods: dignity."
Dignity is a must read for all who want to make America just and
equitable, especially those who keep on asking why "they" vote against
"their best interests".
On a purrrsonal note, last night before bed I found a treat I forgot
I'd bought: a big toffee sea salt chocolate bar. Maybe that, like the
beer from Adam and the Peeps Eugene surprised me with, somehow lifted
my spirits. But this morning I seem to have turned a corner. For the
first time since Friday I wanted to get out of bed and am motivated to
work. I've recaptured my sense of purpose and usefulness. I've
slowed my reading to do other stuff so I maybe won't run out of books
before the shitstorm is over (Jules).
Days is getting longer. More sunlight to nap in. But where is the
birdies? Isn't they supposed to come back from going South for the
winter. Today is officially spring, birdies. Get with the program.
(Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all who are working to help our most
vulnerable citizens weather this coronavirus shitstorm.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway



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