From Firehoses to Hamburgers

I am feeling ALL THE THINGS with my oldest son going to Kindergarten, starting my new Graduate Assistantship at John Carroll University, Evan's contract negotiations for his job after residency, and our friend's daughter going to emergency surgeries for a brain tumor. It's not even an emotional rollercoaster...it's often different strong waves from multiple directions at the same time. I'm proudhappygrievingconfusedexpectantoverwhelmedrelieved and some wordless feelings, too.

 

I'm so caught up in anxiety/lack of routine that I forgot my paperwork and passport at home that I needed for orientation last week, so I had to drive all the way back home & to JCU again, over an hour trip. It was a blessing in disguise because along the way I heard an interview with Julia Bell Rogers on 90.3 WCPN's Sound of Ideas. She was captivating and wise and honest about how she is satisfied with some progress, but mentioned that the main point of the March on Washington 50 years ago was JOBS. Economic disparity between races and classes is stagnant or growing today. She also mentioned that she was the 15 year old girl in the photo being hosed by the Birmingham police in May 1963 that brought national attention to the violent response to their peaceful protests.

 

Her courage and insight made me grieve while giving me strength at the same time. It's clear that some of our attempts to right these injustices over the past 50 years have been either ineffective, misinformed, or just unable to overcome cultural mores that are even stickier and harder to influence than federal policy.

 

For example, I get stuck over what to possibly do with our urban young people, of many races, who believe (and have sometimes told me this at the ripe age of 8) that traveling in gun-ready packs to pursue illegal economic activity is their only viable future and the truest expression of their identity. They want to die young wearing their colors. Instead many of them will end up in corrections or rehab facilities because their actions have economically, physically and educationally disabled them for the rest of their lives.

 

I think I'm too white and nerdy for kids with that deeply held belief to think my lifestyle, suggestions or programs have real relevance for their lives. What the hell can I do against the music-news-entertainment complex that feeds this narrative back to us in some sick Hunger-Games-style feedback loop where the slow self destruction of someone else's child fuels our nation's sickest shaden-freude? What can I do with a culture that conflates gangsters and soldiers? What can I do with young (and older) women who find sexually selfish, violently reckless, or economically lost young men the most appealing partners?

 

You don't march against something like that. LaVar Burton isn't cool to them.

 

I can write about it, I guess. I can write about how grievingconfuseddegradedhopefuldistrusting I am about that narrative we tell ourselves as a bedtime story on the nightly news, that we sing into life on the sidewalks of our ghettos, that we reject when we instead follow authors and artists like Margaret Bernstein and Deejay Doc. We find the few and far between who will paint a different picture. We entertain our 8-year-old neighbors' dreams to drive an ice cream truck or work on a farm. Maybe it's the soft racism of low expectations, or maybe it's a tale that involves these kids graduating high school and getting a job.

 

And we make sure those jobs can support families. I did hear second-hand last week that there was a nationwide strike for higher voluntary minimum wage for fast food workers. This report was from someone who had to wait 50 minutes for a small McDonald's coffee because there were only 2 people working. But over this Labor Day Weekend, I found myself at a well-staffed Arby's with no sign of protest.

 

I found an article from USA Today about the strike, but I can't propose the best way to act in solidarity. But worked at Wendy's and know the challenging life of poverty that many of my coworkers led because their career as sandwich artist or maintenance staff barely paid the rent. In their frustration they turned to Eminem or bickering with friends and family or Evangelical promises of delayed eternal salvation.

 

But Jesus promised the kingdom of God is here, while also not of this world. It's not ushering in the trumpets of heaven, but I would gladly pay 10 cents more for a salad so workers could get paid $15/hour. One injustice in the "fast food" economic system, from my observation (beyond the long term health effects of the food and treatment of feedlot animals) is the fact that due to high turnover, employers have a good excuse to disinvest in their workforce and keep front line staff below 40 or even 20 hours per week to avoid paying benefits. Many of the people I worked with at Wendy's worked multiple jobs, and almost all of those were supporting parents, spouses, siblings and/or kids. Since the recession, I'm sure many of those folks can't even get or keep a second job to make the $15,000 annual salary of minimum wage.

 

No health insurance, sleeping on a futon, riding unreliable public transportation or hitching rides with people...what kind of exciting life is that to dangle as a reward to counter the vision of dying in a blaze of glory? Instead, it's their best possible reality when they don't die. Due to advances in health care, instead more and more reckless teens wake up in the hospital after surviving the gunshot wound, or drug overdose, or unplanned pregnancy. How many economic choices do our wild, hopeless children have when saddled with the consequences of youth for the next 20, 40 or 60 years?

 

Progress, and barriers. Marching forward, pushed backward. Feeling ALL THE THINGS and unclear on the next steps. Staying up late contemplating firehoses and hamburgers.