Thursday, November 12, 2015
Im writing this from a Barnes and Noble café in Omaha NE. The only Barnes and Noble café Ive ever been in where there are no wall outlets for people using laptops. And for someone like me who hates writing on a deadline this isn't helping. I keep glancing at the power light on my Lenovo laptop and waiting for it to go out midsentence.
Not exactly roughing it, I get that. If no free electricity is the worst indignity I suffer out here I'll consider myself lucky. Thus far the trip has been without major incident but not without its share of interesting moments and people. My hope is that this trip, is not a new life, or a better me, but a change.
What I am seeking here is something a little more complex, a little more human. For reasons that I hope will eventually reveal themselves I see this journey and my destination and my new life(whatever that may be) as something that has to be constructed.
Believe me, I’m fully aware of the folly of escaping to a new and better me. It never works, I've tried it before. Wherever you go, there you are. With all your anxieties and neuroses, and baggage. You open the door to a new apartment and there, in the bathroom mirror, is the same face, the one that is trying to escape the consequences of his mistakes. He's follows you and shaking his head says "Looks like you fucked up again."
That is not what this is. I am ok with taking myself with me this time. Actually, this time, I like myself more. IM more forgiving of myself because I have learned to forgive some of the people who've done damage to me(specifics on who and what later). And I've recognized the damage I've done as mistakes, not the product of an ill, meanspirited, or malevolent will. Im not trying to construct a new me. Im not trying to escape the fallout from the mistakes and bad choices.
What I am doing is leaving something I've participated in that I've come to understand as deeply destructive, to myself and society as a whole: Mass Incarceration. As always, these major decisions of mine start with a book. I don’t substitute a book for experience, but I often find that a book helps put some experiences in a light where the truth of them, their sources and consequences, cannot be denied. Such is the case with Michelle Alexander's The New Jim Crow, Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. After finishing that book, I realized with a brutal shock that depressed me for a month, then angered me, and finally roused me to action.
As I've mentioned here before, I came to realize I participated in a system as bad as Apartheid, all in the name of "The War on Drugs." I saw hundreds of juveniles incarcerated, whom I taught English and Reading to, whose only real crime was poverty. I came to see that though I tried to do what I imagined was "the right thing," getting them to cognitively look at their behaviors, and accept the "criminality" of their actions, but I was instead furthering a system that continued to marginalize them, continued to deprive them of basic human rights and needs. I tried to take their simple language of human needs, for food, shelter, safety, health care, etc, and reprogram it to "thinking errors," and "deviant thinking."
After reading Chris Hedges book, Wages of Rebellion, I learned that one of the most powerful things I can do is simply walk away. Simply choose not to participate in all of this. Simply refuse to perpetuate this. The basic equation came down to despite the best of intentions, I was simply making their lives worse, not better. They should have had the full benefit of a whole host of social services. Not handouts. Fuck the republicans and their neoliberal market self righteousness. The people I worked with did not ask for the globalization of shrinking industry and deteriorating government services(all designed to make the populous tear at each other, and make collective action difficult).
All major countries, first world countries, have free health care and a social safety net. The better ones care about their citizens. They realize the government is about not placating a populous with pithy sayings, but generating real productive and fulfilling lives.
So I walked away.
Im not doing it anymore. Im done with it. If the most significant thing in my power to do to change this system is to limit my ability to further it then so be it. I've accepted that Im not going to be wealthy or affluent. I only have a Bachelor's Degree in English. And my teaching license probably won't transfer to other states (I'm now in a frame of mind where I see our school systems as a fast track for mass incarceration anyway and its something else I don’t want to participate in).
There aren't really many places in my home town area to work besides in the prison system, or the hospitals(and I hate blood and opened up human beings) So this move to the west coast, specifically Portland or Seattle, is an attempt on my part to get to an environment that is more nourishing and helpful. If I work in food service, or in some retail store, so be it. Not what I dreamed my life would be, but so it is.
I've called this entry, and my program, Operation Dmitry. The reference is to my favorite novel: The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky. For those of you who haven't read it, and are planning on reading it, some spoilers follow. But please stay with me and keep reading because this is the main reason for my move.
Dimitry Karamazov is the violent son of a wealthy landowner in czarist Russia. He is a military man, and quick with his fists. He beats his father in front of witnesses, but the old man is wicked and provoked him. He is accused, over the course of the novel, of killing his father, and stands trial. He is convicted(though he is innocent) and receives a sentence of hard labor in Siberia. His brothers, Alyosha and Ivan, know he is innocent and plan to bribe government officials and spirit Dmitry out of the country to America. Though Dmitry can be a violent man, they know his "soul" wont survive incarceration.
Dmitry agrees to the plan and the woman he loves, a prostitute named Grushenka, agrees to go with him. Dmitry feels his violent life has brought this judgement down on him and he accepts how out of control he was. At the end of the novel Alyosha, the wisest and most spiritual of the brothers, says to Dmitry as he is awaiting transport:
"Listen, brother, once and for all,' he said 'here are my thoughts about it. And you know very well I won't lie to you. Listen, then: You're not ready, and such a cross is not for you. Moreover, unready as you are, you don't need such a great martyr's cross. If you had killed father, I would regret that you rejected your cross. But you're innocent, and such a cross is too much for you. You wanted to regenerate another man in yourself through suffering; I say just remember that other man always, all your life, and wherever you escape to-and that is enough for you…and through this constant feeling from now on, all your life you will do more for your regeneration than if you were there(in prison).
-The Brothers Karamazov, pg 764, Pevear and Volokhonsky Translation.
"I say just remember that other man always, all your life, and wherever you escape to-and that is enough for you."
That is why I left, and am looking for a new place to live. If I would have stayed in that job, in that area, I would have forgotten that other man. The job was violent, and it was too easy, at the end of every day, to simply see it as us versus them, the criminals versus the citizens. Too easy to perpetuate the system. Financial needs being what they are, it would have been simple and easy to just let go of what I knew in my bones to be true, and bought a house, a better car, and eventually, lose myself. Lose what I cared about. Lose my capacity for right and wrong. That is why I am left.
So. This is what Operation Dmitry is. This is the plan. Ive saved some money and can take some time until I figure out what's what and where I want to be. But I don’t want to ever lose sight of That Other Man again. And I did, for a long time. I lost the vision of myself as a good man. And that is what I want to regain and hang on to. And I believe crazy Uncle Fyodor is right.
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
She was now one of the worthless.
After this moment of existential angst she breaks the fourth wall and addresses the reader directly:
“But then, its not really enough to tell you that I’m homeless, is it? You want to know who the hell I am and how I got here.”
The image at the beginning of the book resonates, and develops a power as the book goes on. Brianna’s story is one of many of thousands, cast out in the street by the 2008 meltdown. Her story is equal parts unique, equal parts representative.
The book then launches into her past and she begins the tale of a truly horrible, abusive family and her efforts to cope with them. A bipolar mother, a docile and spineless stepfather cowed by his wife, a sister mentally screwed up by the family religion of jehovah’s witness.
In fact, the opening scene would have served equally well as the end of the story of her managing to extricate herself from her horrible, soul crushing family. A family that she nevertheless loves but eventually recognizes her inability to save or deal with.
“I haven’t had any contact with my family in nearly two years at this point, and I don’t expect that I will anytime soon. I still love them very much, as I suspect I always will. But I realize and accept that they are not going to change, and I cant force my will or perspective on them. As a result, we are destined to live separate lives.”
The past wrongs, the ravings of her mother who also repeatedly beats her senseless, the father who molested her, and the insane logic of the jehovah’s witnesses mount as she continues her narrative of the past. By the midpoint of the book the reader is convinced of Brianna’s courage in leaving.
But s I said, though the opening scene would have served equally well as the end of her story, her story continues, despite difficult circumstances.
Prior to the homelessness, she had made a good living as an administrative assistant, earning over 50,000 a year, having put herself through college. She details her adolescence, where she would often work three jobs, and pursue her degree. She had, in 2008, acquired a house, a dog, an off and on again boyfriend, and a horse. Yes , a horse.
Having escaped her past horrors and having her success and freedom yanked so brutally away, its shocking that she doesn’t simply give up, descend into addiction, or just live in a cardboard box. But Brianna endures and continues to work hard. She installs herself at the local starbuck’s where she uses the wifi to spend 8 to 10 hour days job searching. In between for sanity sake she continues chronicling her life in her blog, but never descends to self pity.
She does not though lose all feeling and compassion. She instead joins a group of other bloggers and reaches out to people. She becomes an informal ambassador for the homeless, correcting misunderstandings and prejudices. She actually makes an appearance on the today show, wins a high profile competition to apprentice at Elle magazine, and is interviewed on NPR.
Her life gets better, but not always easier, she is dogged by vengeful Walmart employees, vindictive managers, and more often than not the absolutely brutal indifference of those who retained their status and things, or refuse to change their narrow minded views.
If this were the whole story it would be enough. Impressive in its own right, as legitimate a document for our times of the dangers of freefall in a capitalist system as Down and Out in Paris and London. And what follows has caught some criticism from her reviewers on Goodreads and other sites, but the second half of the book for me only validates her struggles to keep mind body and soul alive, and to fulfill that most basic of human needs: happiness.
She meets a guy online. Matt. Not in a pick up site but on a homeless blog group. He has his homeless story to share, and works to spread awareness and support groups. Brianna begins a long distance relationship with him. They eventually meet and make plans for the future.
She is faulted for this but I simply can’t agree. The search for love and happiness is seldom relegated to those who are financially stable. What is revealed in these pages is a simple basic human need. Brianna may be destitute, may be struggling to survive a difficult future, but she never stops being a human being. She never stops wanting to love someone, and wanting love in return.
The rest of the book is taken up with this story and it does not read like a teenage chick lit story. Its brutal in parts, complications ensue, and you marvel at this girl’s refusal to say no to life.
More significantly for me, I found the comparisons between Matt’s English existence and Brianna’s American one acute. The English universal health care and social welfare system, in place since World War 2(watch Michael Moore’s Sicko for ideas on how this was achieved) saved thousands of people from the despair and loss of life that happened in America.
As Matt says at one point to Brianna “In England we actually care about people.”
At the end of the book we can see his point.
Friday, July 10, 2015
Without a doubt this is the most revolutionary text I have read thus far this year. To evoke a biblical allusion the scales have fallen from my eyes and I see the "war on drugs" for what it really is: a means of racial social control as repressive as Apartheid in South Africa.
The author, a former supreme court justice aid, meticulously describes and delineates the "War on Drugs" as being a system designed to 1) repress inner city lower income communities and effectively turn them into red zones, 2) place "criminals" under constant supervision and monitoring of the state, 3) prescribe harsh and unhelpful sentences for drug use and possession beyond the range of 'justice,' 4) criminalize poverty, 5) reward state and local drug enforcement agencies in the form of cash (federal subsidies for picking up and prosecuting drug criminals), and 6) effectively remove on third of the population from being able to vote in elections.
The more I read the more i felt like a fool for once upon a time falling for all the war on drugs rhetoric. I am ashamed to admit just how taken in I was by the stereotype of the black man as drug criminal and i see now that in many ways our society, under the guidance of corporations and neoliberal policies reinforced this.
This book has forced a brutal self reckoning in my personal life and made me choose a new path of existence rather than participate in a culture of mass enslavement. I can no longer in good conscience pretend that any of this, this system built on a culture of caging human beings, is capable of accomplishing any good.
In the pages of this book I found the diagnosis of the ills of my own community: a rural area devastated by the neoliberal policies that sent its factories and industries overseas and replaced them with prisons as the only means of gainful employment. Predominantly white communities that see no other means of self sufficiency than locking up people of color, and in the process turn a blind eye to the damage caused to the lives of the incarcerated, to the society as a whole, and to the nation. In a 50 mile radius from where i live there are 3 state prisons, 2 Federal prisons, and 4 Juvenile correctional facilities. Solzenhietzen's phrase, 'the prison industry, comes to mind.
Each chapter introduced more to be angry about. Not least of which is the way the drug war makes local communities wealthier by allowing them to keep whatever monies they seize in raids. So instead of wiping out the drug trade in their towns they raid them periodically to increase coffers. No wonder tv is so full of cop shows: lets villainize the black inner city person and heroize the police who lock them up.
I hope for meaningful change. And will find ways to be active in the future. But I will vote for any candidate that can help bring about meaningful change.
Thank you, Ms. Alexander, for waking me up.