Ruminations

Imagine you are rollerblading along the lake, circa 9 pm on a muggy, July Sunday night, and you see a shopping cart filled to the brim sitting next to a long wooden bench with a homeless black man on the edge of it. Now imagine having a mere 5-6 seconds to assess the situation: he is slowly, deliberately unwrapping something crinkly, hmm looks like a sandwich, he appears to be 'settling in for the night.' And now quickly focus back to the bike path you're on and try to ignore the disgruntled, "hey, watch outs" you've received while not-ignoring him. And then think to yourself: Well, he chose to be homeless. And then slap yourself!!

Or not. Instead think: Well, maybe his only choice was to become homeless.

What causes poverty? Why do people become poor? Or homeless? Is it their choice? Do they have no other choice? Are they down on their luck? Are they mentally incapable? Are they emotionally unemployable? Are they addicts? Did they decide to become like this? Were they born into it? Are they parasites existing on the fringes of society? Aren't they people, just like you and me?

I'm tired of responding to poverty on a personal, emotional level. ("Oh, poor things.") I crave a more critical response to poverty ("Well, it's complex, see..."). I cannot continue to feel sad for, pity, hand a dollar to, look away. What are the forces in our society that tolerate this type of existence? And why doesn't anyone do anything to change them?

In light of that, I'm applying to grad school. I'm tired of spending my time and energy on things that are not directly related to my future, i.e. lesson plans, curriculum meetings, department concerns, staff development, summer workshops, etc. The list goes on and on. Yes, Mayor Daley said, "Let's be honest: all the poverty programs in the world will never match the impact of a quality education" which is why I'm teaching in the first place.

But in the second place, I'm done with teaching.

Now imagine this: Your clock blinks 9:38 a.m. on a sunny Wednesday morning. Your bedroom window is ajar and by this time, you've already been awakened by the 7:30 garbage truck in the alley. Your eyes are closed in an attempt to steal some last few minutes of zzz's and outside you begin to hear the sound of rubber wheels grating over the unstable cement path. This sound is accompanied and almost overwhelmed by a second sound: vibrating metal clashing violently against the shaky ground. A shopping cart, you think to yourself. Which is being pushed by a homeless person, no doubt. Oh no, here we go. What to do? Do I a) run out there with a freshly baked apple pie? Better yet, b) run out there with the pie and leave it on TOP of the dumpster and then run away, yeah! or c) Run out there with the apple pie, leave it on the top, and then wait in a dark corner for him to eat it and then introduce yourself at that exact moment, face-to-face with a smelly, dirt-ridden, apple-smeared face homeless dude. The shining moment comes when I ask this man the question, "Why are you homeless?"

Updates:

• I'm applying to grad school and now have to take the damn GRE.
• Why should I date if I'm never going to find "the one"? Aren't I wasting his/my time?