Fire in the Ashes
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AMONG THE POOREST CHILDREN IN AMERICA
Jonathan Kozol
CROWN PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
CHAPTER 1
The Journey Begins
Christmas Eve of 1985 was not a good time for poor women and their children to depend on public kindness or prophetic reenactments of the Christian gospel at the hands of civic and commercial leaders in New York. It was a time when opulence among the city's newly minted rich and super-rich was flaunted with an unaccustomed boldness in the face of New York City's poor and homeless people, thousands of whom were packed into decrepit, drug-infested shelters, most of which were old hotels situated in the middle of Manhattan, some of which in decades past had been places of great elegance.
One of the largest shelters was the Martinique Hotel, across the street from Macy's and one block from Fifth Avenue. In this building, 1,400 children and about 400 of their parents struggled to prevail within a miserable warren of bleak and squalid rooms that offered some, at least, protection from the cold of winter, although many rooms in which
I visited with families in the last week of December were so poorly heated that the children huddled beneath blankets in the middle of the day and some wore mittens when they slept.
I remember placing calls on freezing nights from phone booths on Sixth Avenue or Broadway trying to reach Steven Banks, a Legal Aid attorney who performed innumerable rescue actions for the families in the Martinique that year. The wind that cut across the open space of Herald Square at night was fierce, the sidewalks felt like slabs of ice, and kids and parents from the Martinique who had to venture out for milk or bread or medicines would bundle up as best they could in layers of old clothes and coats, if they did have coats, or sweatshirts with the hoods drawn tight around their chins.
Dozens of kids I knew within the building suffered from chronic colds. Many were also racked by asthma and bronchitis. Infants suffered from diarrhea. Sleepless parents suffered from depression. Mothers wept in front of me.
I had never seen destitution like this in America before. Twenty years earlier, I had taught young children in the black community of Boston and had organized slum tenants there and lived within their neighborhood and had been in many homes where rats cohabited with children in their bedrooms. But sickness, squalor, and immiseration on the scale I was observing now were virtually unknown to me.
Almost every child that I came to know that winter in the Martinique was hungry. On repeated evenings when I went to interview a family I gave up asking questions when a boy or girl would eye the denim shoulder bag I used to carry, in which I often had an apple or some cookies or a box of raisins, and would give them what I had. Sometimes I would ask if I could look into the small refrigerators that the hotel had reluctantly provided to the families. Now and
4
FIRE IN THE ASHES
then I'd find a loaf of bread or several slices of bologna or a slice or two of pizza that had gone uneaten from the day before. Often there was nothing but a shriveled piece of fruit, a couple of jars of apple sauce, a tin of peanut butter, sometimes not even that.
II continued visiting the Martinique throughout the next- two years. During that time, a play about impoverished children of the nineteenth century in Paris, called Les Miserables, opened to acclaim in the theater district of New York. Some of the more enterprising children in the Martinique would walk the twelve or fifteen blocks between the hotel and the theater district in late afternoons or evenings to panhandle in the streets around the theater or in front of restaurants nearby. Homeless women did this too, as well as many of the homeless men, some alcoholics and some mentally unwell, who slept in cardboard boxes on the sidewalks and in doorways of the buildings in the area.
The presence of these homeless people was not welcomed by the theater owners. People were paying a great deal of money to enjoy an entertainment fashioned from the misery of children of another era. The last thing that they wanted was to come out of the theater at the end and be obliged to see real children begging on the sidewalk right in front of them.
The problem was resolved to some degree when police and private guards employed by local businesses developed strategies for cleaning out the homeless-sanitation terms like "cleaning out" were used without embarrassmentfrom the streets around the theaters. Meanwhile, on the East Side of Manhattan, another group of business leaders went a little further by employing people in the homeless population to drive out other homeless people from Grand Central Station, where they had been taking refuge from the cold for several years by sleeping in the station's waiting
room_g
The ultimate solution, which required the removal of these homeless families from the midtown sections of Manhattan altogether, took a few more years to carry out successfully. In the interim, despite the efforts of the theater owners, many of the older children from the Martinique would manage to slip past the hired guards or the police and walk up to theater-goers, who would sometimes hand them a few dollars.
The younger children from the Martinique, however, did their begging for the most part close to home within the blocks surrounding the hotel, where they would run into the streets when drivers slowed their cars as the lights were changing and where a driver whose compassion overcame his irritation might roll down his window far enough to give the kids some money. Those who were inclined to castigate the parents of these children for letting them go out into the streets at night might have relented somewhat if they understood how rapidly the competence of many of these parents had come to be eroded by the harshness of conditions in that building.
Scenarios of broken will and loss of good decisionmaking skills were apparent everywhere. Some of the parents were emotionally ill when they arrived here; but those who weren't would frequently succumb to the pervasive atmosphere of insecurity and high anxiety that suffused the filthy corridors and crowded living spaces of the Martinique. Many who had not used drugs before this time became drug users in a setting in which heroin and crack cocaine were readily available. (The sixteenth floor of the Martinique Hotel-there were seventeen floors in all, but the top two were unoccupied-was operated, with the knowledge and, apparently, cooperation of some of the guards, as an open market for drug users.) A number of people became HIV-infected under these conditions, although in 1985 the
6
FIRE IN THE ASHES
term was not yet widely recognized among some of the residents and many did not understand exactly why it was that they were growing ill.
The conditions under which these people had to live
were not unknown to New York City's social service system or to its political administration. Anybody who was able to get past the guards, as I did repeatedly with the cooperation of two sympathetic social workers who enabled me to get into the upper floors and visit families pretty much at will, could not avoid, unless he closed his eyes, the sight of overflowing garbage piled in the landings and of children who, for lack of other options, played amidst that garbage.
But physical unhealthiness, the prevalence of drug addiction, and the documented presence of widely known carcinogens (open containers of asbestos, for example, and asbestos-coated pipes in the lobby of the building) were not the worst of the destructive forces children and their families had to undergo. The Martinique, as I was forced to recognize when the social workers started talking candidly to me during the months to come, was not merely a despairing place, diseased and dangerous for those who had no choice but to remain there; it also was a place of flagrant and straightforward criminality on the part of management and ownership. A young man with a raw, salacious smile, to whom the social workers made it a special point to introduce me and who, they told me, was a relative of one of the two owners of the building, used the power he was thus afforded to induce young women to provide him with erotic favors in exchange for items that they needed, such as cribs and linens for their children.
"He boasts about it," one of the two social workers told me. "He describes it to us openly, and gleefully. He goes into considerable detail. ... " Some of the guards, the social worker said, took advantage of the younger mothers too, as
one of those mothers, a smart and savvy woman who told me she had had to fight off their advances, reported to me at the time and has repeated since.
There was no need for secrecy, it seemed, because there was a sense that this was "a closed system," where rules of normal law and normal governance did not apply. Complaint or protest would have no effect except to prompt the guards or manager to punish the complaining woman by denying her essential services or else, if the manager so wished, by calling the police and charging her with one of many forms of misbehavior that were common in a building in which almost every person had to break some rule or operate some petty scam in order to survive.
Cooking, for example, was officially prohibited because of fire dangers, but the city's meager allocation of subsistence funds to purchase food made it unthinkable to buy it from a restaurant and forced the mothers in the Martinique to cook their children's meals in secret, then conceal their hot plates when inspectors from the city came around. The management cooperated with the tenants by providing them with garbage bags to cover up the hot plates on inspection days while, at the same time, it pretended not to know that this was going on. When mothers were reluctant to provide the guards who were hired to protect them with the favors they expected, the guards could use the cooking scam or other scams much like it as a way to break down their resistance.
Children, of course, observed the humiliation of their mothers. The little ones, too young to go to school, might perhaps be sent out to the corridors; but most of the mothers would not dare to let them wander too far from the bedroom door. Even the kids who never witnessed these activities first-hand could not fail to be aware of them. I used to wonder what enduring influence all of this would have upon the capability of children in the building to believe in
8
FIRE IN THE ASHES
any kind of elemental decency in people who have power over their existence. Would they later find it hard to trust the teachers in their public schools? Would they develop an endemic wariness about investing faith in any older person of authority? Would they love their mothers all the more for having done the best they could to protect them from this nightmare, or would they harbor a resentment that their mothers were not able to avoid this situation in the
first~ace?
One of the social workers who befriended me that year,
a sensitive man who had studied early childhood development as an undergraduate at Yale, spoke of the Martinique in unsparing language as "New York City's midtown death camp for the spirits of poor children." He knew that I was Jewish and he asked me later if this choice of language had offended me. I told him it did not. I thought it was justifieTI
Two years later, I published a book about the Martinique Hotel. It appeared first in two successive issues of The New Yorker magazine, and this, in turn, attracted interest from the other media. The Nightline television program, moderated at the time by the journalist Ted Koppel, asked me to go back into the Martinique with a camera crew and do a documentary on the families I had known. The social workers and some of the mothers helped to get the camera crew and the producer past the guards and up into the building. The camera itself was hidden in a baby carriage by one of the mothers, who rolled it through the lobby without attracting scrutiny and brought it with her on an elevator to the floor where she was living. She then accompanied us into other bedrooms whose occupants had told me they were not afraid to answer questions.
By the time we had finished with the final interview,
however, a guard on an upper floor had become suspicious, banged at the door, which we 'did not open, then notified the management. The manager, an unpleasant character by the
name of Sal Tuccelli who carried a pistol in an ankle holster, confronted us with several other guards and insisted that the cameramen hand over the material they had just recorded. When they refused, the manager and guards reacted in the same way they routinely did with residents who defied or disobeyed them. I was slammed against a metal wall. One of the cameramen was seriously injured. The TV producer, an unintimidated woman, removed one of her high-heel shoes and used it to defend us. By this point, the police had been alerted. The cameramen got out of the building with the video.
I knew, of course, that journalists were not welcome in the building and that the social workers who had made my visits possible were taking risks in doing so. But until this time I had never witnessed so directly the extremes to which the management would go in the interest of concealment. It reminded me more vividly than ever that the city and the owners of the Martinique, with whom the city had contracted to sequester homeless people at a price tag of $ 8 million yearly for those 400 families, were determined to discourage any troublesome exposure of the social crime in which they were colluding.
It also left me with a visceral reminder of the terror mothers and their children would experience when the guards or, more frequently, the manager would hammer at their doors early in the morning if, for example, the rental check paid by the city, through no fault of their own, had not arrived on time. "Six a.m.," one of the mothers told me. "He bangs on the door. You open up. There he is in the hallway with his gun. 'Where's your rent?'"
This is the way that one of the richest cities in the world treated the most vulnerable children in its midst a quarter century agoillhen these hotels were finally closed in 1988 and 1989, not for reasons of compassion but because of the enormous damage the visibility of so much desperation was doing to the image of the city and its elected leaders, most of the several dozen families I had come to know, all but two of whom were black or Latino, were shipped en masse into several of the most impoverished and profoundly segregated sections of the Bronx, far from the sight of tourists and the media. These were communities that already had the city's highest rates of HIV infection, the greatest concentration of drug-addicted people, of people who had serious psychiatric illnesses, women with diabetes, women with undiagnosed malignancies, and among the highest rates of pediatric asthma in the nation.
The miserables, although they were no longer homeless, would continue nonetheless to live under conditions of physical and psychological adversity that were only incrementally less harmful than the ones they had endured in the preceding years. In one of the neighborhoods in which the largest numbers of the homeless were resettled, the only medical facility was a city-run institution known as Lincoln Hospital, which underwent the loss of its accreditation more than once because of errors by the staff that led to the deaths of at least a dozen patients, two of whom were infants. For the mentally unwell, psychiatriC care of the thoroughgoing kind lavishly available six subway stops away in the costly and exclusive Upper East Side of Manhattan was all but impossible to find. Children, meanwhile, many of whom had had their education interrupted or repeatedly disrupted during their homeless years, found themselves consigned to public schools that, in the absoluteness of their racial isolation, resembled those of Mississippi fifty or one hundred years beforfl
So this is where they sent them. And this is where I
followed them, invited by their parents to visit them on weekend afternoons or in the evenings during a school holiday, to keep alive the friendships we had formed when they were in the shelters. I went to their schools. I got to
know their teachers. I went to their churches. I got to know their pastors. I went to their hospitals, sometimes at their own request when they were ill because they thought that it might win them more attention. So I became acquainted with a number of their doctors, many of whom were selfless and devoted individuals who did everything they could to compensate for scarcities in the basic services that doctors elsewhere know they can depend upon.
I did this, off and on, for more than fifteen years. Then, beginning in 2005, I lost track of some families for a time when my father, who'd been ill for several years, entered an acute phase of his illness, and, within the same two years, both he and my mother passed away. It took another year before I could regain my sense of equilibrium. At that point I began returning to those neighborhoods again and meeting once more with the families I had known. Some of the children were still in their teenage years. Those whom I had met when they were in the Martinique were already in their twenties. We had long talks. We took long walks. Sometimes we would spend an evening having dinner in the neighborhood. When I was home we kept in touch by phone and mail, and bye-mail in the case of those who had computers. In these ways we rebuilt our friendships.
What happened to these children? What happened to their families? Some prevailed, a few triumphantly. Most survived, even at a rather modest level of survival. Others did not. This will be their story.
CHAPTER 2
Eric and His Sister
One of the nicest but most fragile people that I knew who was in the shelter system at the time when I was visiting the Martinique was a shy and gentle woman whose
name was Victoria.
Vicky had been shunted through a number of the shel-
ters from 1984 until the end of 1989. Her longest stay was in a place known as the Prince George Hotel on West 28th Street, four blocks from the Martinique.
When she came into the shelters, Vicky had been
suffering from clinical depression and periodic seizures, for which she had been treated at a hospital on Roosevelt Island, which is in the midst of the East River. Her husband, who was caring for their children at the time, had not been well for .many years, the consequence of a degenerative illness that, as best I understood, he had contracted as a young man growing up in Georgia. He passed away a short time after Vicky came out of the hospital.
At this juncture in her life, with no money in her pocket, and no prospects of a job, and with two young children who had no one else to care for them, she began to make her way into the less-than-friendly channels of the shelter apparatus, moving at first, as was the case with all homeless families, from one so-called "short-term shelter" to the next. The psychological and physical exhaustion families underwent when they were moving constantly tended to have a predictable effect. It undermined whatever capability for good clear-headed thinking might still exist within the spirits of the stronger women while, in the case of those like Vicky who were not strong at all, it simply added to their pre-existent instability.
Vicky, as she told me later, fell into a "zombie-like"
condition-she felt, she said, "like I was walkin' in my sleep"-a condition that continued when she was living on a "permanent placement," as the city termed it, in a room at
the Prince George.
The building, which was owned at the time that Vicky
moved there by one of the two owners of the Martiniqueit was later taken over by another owner with a record of illegal operations who subsequently served a lengthy term in prison for defrauding creditors of $100 million-was less depressing physically, at least on the lobby floor, than was the Martinique, but it made its claim to notoriety for other reasons of its own. Although the manager of the Martinique had some degree of governance over the Prince George as well, the day-to-day administrator was a man who'd been convicted of abusing his own daughter, beating her and leaving her locked up at home, "alone and without food," according to the New York Daily News. His daughter had been taken from him by the city to protect her from additiona I endangerment.
The city, wrote the columnist Bob Herbert, who was
then a writer for the Daily News, "takes one child out of [his] care and then hands him over 1,000 more." There were at least 1,200 children in the Prince George at the time.
Children were endangered in other ways as well.
Fires kept on breaking out-at one point, four or five times in a week. A three-year-old was burned to death while Vicky's family lived there. The fires were alleged to have been caused by arson, but tenants told me some of them resulted from the carelessness of drug abusers who were cooking crack cocaine right there in their bedrooms-a not-uncommon practice in those days when crack was just emerging as a drug of choice among the very poor.
This, then, is the setting in which Vicky and her children found themselves at a time when Vicky was already ill and loaded with anxiety. Her daughter, who was named Lisette and was only seven when all of this began, suffered less than did her brother, Eric, who was four years older. As in the case of many of the other children in the building who were nearing adolescence, he was very much aware of the sordidness of his surroundings, the unscrupulous behavior of the governing officials, the open market for narcotics, as well as the various semi-legal or illegal strategies other children of his age had inventively developed in order to pick up a little money that they sometimes, but not always, used to help their families. It would be another four years from the time that Vicky'S family came into this building
until the day when they got out.
When I met Vicky and her children in the Bronx in 1993, they were living in Mott Haven, which was then, and remains today, the single poorest neighborhood in the poor-
est borough of New York.
Vicky's home, although it was on a street that was a
well-known center for the sale of drugs-heroin, specifically-was two blocks from a church on St. Ann's Avenue,
an Episcopal church called St. Ann's, that was a place of safety for children in the neighborhood. The church, a beautiful old stone building with a tall white spire at the top of its bell tower, had a large expanse of lawn on a pleasant hillside where there were swings and slides and a sprinkler for the younger children, and a court where older kids
played basketball.
I spent a good part of the 1990s visiting St. Ann's
because it ran an excellent and innovative afterschool, in which I was able to talk at length with children and was sometimes asked to help with their tutorials. Naturally, it wasn't long before I also grew acquainted with some of their parents and with other adults who gravitated to the church for the sense of solace that they found in the inviting and informal atmosphere the pastor had created.
The priest of the church, an extraordinary woman whose name is Martha Overall, came to St. Ann's with a deep commitment to the children of the neighborhood. She was also well equipped to help the parents of the children deal with the legal problems and bureaucratic obstacles that people who depended upon welfare inevitably faced. A graduate of Radcliffe College, where she had studied economics, she also drew upon the adversarial and strategic skills she had acquired as a lawyer who had been a protege of a famous litigator by the name of Louis Nizer.
Even while she practiced law, Martha had been work-
ing as a volunteer and advocate for families in Mott Haven, SO when she turned her back upon the law and chose a life of service in the ministry, she already had a thorough understanding of the sense of helplessness that people in the area frequently experienced in dealing with their landlords or with government officials. She was masterful, and she could be very tough, in her confrontations with people in positions of authority. But she was warm and gentle with people in the parish who came to her in need.
Vicky quickly grew attached to Martha, and she and the children soon began to come to church almost every Sunday. On the weekdays, Eric sometimes came there on his own, mostly to play basketball. Now and then, he
brought his sister with him.
Eric struck me as a complicated boy. In spite of all he
had been through, he had an element of likability and even of good humor. But he found it difficult to be transparent in his conversations and relationships with older people at the church who took an interest in him. As I watched him in the next few years, I could not help noticing the frequently evasive-maybe self-protective-way that he would speak to grown-ups when they questioned him. It was a hint, but only that, that he was concealing things that might stir up worries for his mother if she knew of them.
But she worried anyway. She told me she had seen this
tendency-"not always bein' straight with me" is the way she put it-starting in the period when they were still at the Prince George. But she said she'd noticed this more frequently since they'd been resettled in the Bronx. She said she never knew what he was holding back, but she was
watching him uneasily ....
One day in the fall of 1995, Vicky came into the church
while I was helping at the aftersch061. She came right up behind me and leaned down and whispered "Hi!" before I knew that she was there. She seemed in such a pleasant mood that it surprised me when, a moment later, she asked with a slight tremble in her voice if I had the time to go
outside and talk with her.
As soon as we had left the church, she began to cry.
She didn't tell me what was wrong, and I didn't ask. She was wearing sneakers, baggy slacks, a loose-fitting sweater, and a floppy-looking hat. Her clothes were clean but her
appearance was disheveled.
We went out for a walk.
Sometimes when a person that I know appears to be distraught, I have a tendency to think there has to be an explanation that I can discover if I ask exactly the right questions. I feel embarrassed later when I realize that there isn't any simple answer to my questions. Usually I know this in advance but, because of something in my personality or education, I often fall into this trap of thinking that the answer lies in talkative solutions. Walking around without a destination sometimes leaves an open space that isn't filled already with my own predictive suppositions.
Vicky never told me exactly what it was that made her cry that afternoon. I knew, of course, she was concerned about her children. ~ric, who was sixteen now, was not doing well in school. The high school he attended was one of those places, misleadingly referred to as "academies," familiar in the Bronx and other inner-city neighborhoods, where the course of study had been stripped of programs that might stimulate a student academically and instead was geared to practical and terminal instruction. Having lost so many years of education while he had been homeless-most of the children in the shelters, as I've noted, had seen their schooling interrupted frequently-his basic skills were already very low. His attendance was, in
any case, haphazar
@cky couldn't help him much because she'd had so
little education of her ow'!9 Her mother had died when she was five and, for some reason she did not explain, she was taken from her father and given to a guardian who, however, seemed to have abandoned the customary obligations of a guardian. She had had to leave school during junior high, which she said was not unusual in the rural part of Georgia where she had been born, and went to work "clean in' houses, doin' laundry for white people" for most of the next four years. By the time her son was born and she was married and her husband brought her to New York, schooling was no longer in her mind. Although her writing skills were good (she had learned a kind of slanted printing in her grade-school years), she had little understanding of the work that Eric was supposed to do at his alleged "academy."
Lisette was in the seventh grade and was a better stu-
dent but had also been assigned to a bottom-rated school, which was called a "school for medical careers" but did not offer courses that would likely lead to any kind of medical career beyond, perhaps, a low-paid job within a nursing home, and pretty much precluded any opportunity to move on to the kind of high school that would open up the possibilities for college.
The apartment where the city had resettled them con-
sisted of three tiny rooms on the fourth floor of a six-story building where there was no elevator, no bell, and no intercom. To visit with Vicky you had to yell up from the street and she or Eric or Lisette would lean out of their window and throw down the key to the front door.
Vicky and her children were living on a welfare stipend which, including food stamps and some other benefits, amounted to approximately $ 7,000 yearly. (According to Martha, this was even less than the average income for a family in the area, which she pegged at $8,000 for a year's subsistence.) She supplemented this by getting up at 5:00 a.m. two days a week to go to a food pantry at one of the housing projects, where she had to be assigned a ticket with a number to establish her priority but then was forced to wait for an hour and a half, or else go home and then return, before she actually received a bag of groceries.
The only job she'd had since moving to the Bronx was cleaning houses or apartments in Manhattan, which, she said, was something she was glad to do, but was also forced to do as part of her welfare obligation in New York. "One lady, Mrs. Jacobs, lived on Second Avenue. The other one
lived-let me see, on 14th Street, somewhere around Green-
. wich Village." Both were elderly; one was home-bound.
"They were nice to me," she said but for some reason she could not explain, this heavily promoted "work experience program" lasted only six months and did not lead to per-
manent employment.
She was candid with me, and herself, in her recogni-
tion that at least some of the suffering she had undergone had been of her own making. While she had been homeless, she had grown attached to a kindly-seeming man who was good to her at first but who was subject to depressive swings of mood and soon began abusing her. Once she had her own apartment, she took out an order of protection, but her boyfriend kept on coming back, she said, when he was depressed or hungry. Sometimes when he showed up at the door, she told me that she lacked the will to keep him out. On more than one occasion, he had beaten her severely.
I asked her if she prayed.
"I do pray-but not out loud." She said, "I pray inside." Amidst the sadness of the conversation, she kept
reaching out for gaiety. A nervous laugh would precede the revelation of a longing or a memory that brought an evanescent sense of satisfaction to her mind. "I pray," she said, "for something that I haven't done for thirteen years."
I asked her what it was.
"To pick up my knitting needles," she replied.
A soft smile lighted up her eyes. "I used to make a sweater in three weeks if I had no thin' to upset me. I'd start when it was summertime and I'd have six sweaters made for Christmas .... If you ever see me get my needles out again, you'll know I'm feelin' happy."
At the corner of Brook Avenue, she stopped next to
the stairs that led down to the subway station, looking in a vague, distracted way at a woman in a long skirt who was
20
FIRE I~ THE ASHES
selling bunches of chrysanthemums and roses. She reached out her hand in the direction of the roses but it seemed she didn't dare to touch them.
"Would you like them?" "One rose," she replied.
Tiny drops of water sparkled on the petals. She held the flower in her hand against her chest as we were walking back in the direction of St. Ann's. At the corner, she looked left and right. Then, with relief, she told me, "There you go!" and waved across the street.
Lisette was coming up the avenue with a couple of her friends. When she saw her mother she ran into her arms. Taking a bunch of papers from her backpack, she showed her a book report she'd done that day at school. It had been marked A-plus by her teacher. Her mother studied the book report, kissed her on the cheek, then handed her the keys to the apartment and two dollars to buy something at the
store.
"An A-plus on a book report doesn't mean a whole
lot at this school she goes to," Vicky said once Lisette was gone. "Her teachers like her. They do the best they can. But I don't think that they can give her what a girl with her potential ought to have ....
"You see, this is the best that I can get for her right now.
I don't accept it-yet I do, because I don't know any choice I have." But a moment after that her gaiety returned. "See?" she said. "I know she's home. She's safe upstairs and we have food to eat. And so, for now, I'm happy. There you go!"
Her moods were like that. Sometimes sadness. Sometimes gaiety. Sometimes a bright burst of jubilation. Then she would crash down-so fast-into the pit of a depressive darkness. Then she would be fighting back again and searching for her jubilation like a person looking for an object that she'd put away into a drawer somewhere and
temporarily could not be found. She laughed that nervous laugh, it seemed, when she was near the tipping point between exhilaration and surrender.
In November 1996, a doctor called me from his office in a small town in Montana. He said his name was Dr. William Edwards. He told me that a group of people at his church had read my book Amazing Grace, about the children in the Bronx, and had called a meeting of their congregation. The members of the church, he said, decided that it was "appropriate" for them "to find a place in our community" for any family that believed they'd have a better chance in life in a setting very different from New York.
I did not know how I should react to this idea at first.
I'd never received a call like that from a total stranger and, although I knew almost nothing of Montana, I found it hard to picture any family that I knew beginning life all over in a place so far away, and so unlike New York.
But the doctor's explanations were so plain and simple-it was a nice town, he said, the schools were good, the congregation was prepared to find a house and fix it up and pay the rent at first and help out with the food expenses for a while, and he was a family doctor and had children and grandchildren of his own-that I told him I'd pass all this information on to Reverend Overall and that she would likely call him back if there was ever any interest from a family at St. Ann's.
I pass on a number of more modest offers and suggestions every year to ministers and teachers and other people working in poor neighborhoods and never know for sure if they'll materialize. Some of them do. Churches and synagogues routinely ask me for the names of schools or churches in the Bronx and frequently they follow through
22
FIRE IN THE ASHES
with shipments of computers, books, and other educational materials. Religious congregations from as far away as Maine and Pennsylvania have invited groups of children from St. Ann's to visit them for extended periods of time. But moving an entire family some 2,000 miles to a small town in Montana that I'd never heard of was in a different
ballerk altogether.
J.!.here's another reason why I hesitated to respond to
Dr. Edwards's invitation. There is an intimidating rhetoric of cultural defensiveness in many inner-city neighborhoods like those of the South Bronx, which sometimes has the power to inhibit any actions that might tend to break down racial borders and to stigmatize the people who propose them as "invasive" or "paternalistic." There is a kind of mantra that one often hears from local power brokers in neighborhoods like these that the way to "fix" a ghettoized community is, first of all, never to describe it in such terms and, second, to remain there and do everything you can to improve it and promote its reputation. Those who choose to leave are seen as vaguely traitorous, and those who help them leave are often seen as traitorous as weI!]
Sometimes ideology and rhetoric like this can introduce an element of complicated and neurotic inhibition into issues that should be decided by the people they will actually affect. I wasted a few days debating whether to dismiss the whole idea and, at one point, I nearly threw away the name and number of the doctor. Then, to end my indecision, I sent the information he had given me to Martha and more or less forgot about it for a while ....
A month later, in the middle of December, Vicky came into St. Ann's in a state of desolation: beaten again, eyes purple, worried sick about her son, who was not attending
school, worried about welfare, worried about clinic visits, worried about rent and food.
The telephone in the office rang while she was sitting there talking to the pastor. "It was the doctor from Montana," Martha told me later. I didn't know if she had called him earlier that day or if the timing of his phone call was a sheer coincidence.
"We had another meeting," Dr. Edwards said. "The invitation is still there."
Martha told him, "Wait a minute," and, looking at Victoria, she told her there was someone on the phone that she might like to talk with.
"I had to leave the office then and go downstairs into the afterschool," she said. "When I came back, Vicky and the doctor were still talking. When she put the phone down, I asked her what she thought. She reached out for my hands. It must have seemed unreal to her. I told her that she ought to give herself a lot of time to think about it and discuss it with the children. I gave her Dr. Edwards's number and told her she could call him anytime she wanted, and I suggested that she ought to question him some more.
"That was only about two weeks ago. Lisette came in today and said, 'Guess what? We're moving to Montana!'"
About a week later, I went to Vicky's home. I didn't want to spoil her excitement, or that of the children, but I thought I ought to tell her some of the reservations I had had ever since the first call I'd received. My concerns, 1 quickly realized, were not hers. When I told her, for example, that there wasn't likely to be more than a small number of black people in the town where she was going, she said that she already realized that.
"You're not concerned at leaving all your friends here, leaving everything you're used to?"
"I want to leave," she said.
The living room in which she slept was already filled
with shipping boxes she had gotten from the church.
"You're sure that you can handle it?"
"I won't know unless I try," she answered.
Another week went by ....
"In about two hours," Martha told me on the phone,
"Vicky and Eric and Lisette will reach their new home in Montana. Dr. Edwards had tears in his voice on the phone today when he called to check on the arrangements. The whole community seems to have gotten together to rent a house for them, and put in some furniture, and work out all the other details so that they'll feel welcome when they get there. I think that everybody knows it isn't going to be
easy ....
"Vicky was up all last night. I brought her a scale so she
could weigh the packages for UPS. She told me she wanted to get her hair done but there wasn't time because the kids were so excited that they were no help to her at all.
"I think that she was happy with a kind of totally 'free' happiness I have never seen in her before. She spoke of taking up her knitting once again, and letter-writing, and she said she'd like to have a garden. She'll be forty-eight in
March.
"A neighbor of Dr. Edwards used his frequent-flier
miles to pay for the tickets, but there was some kind of glitch and we only got two tickets so I bought the third one-for Lisette. The woman at the desk gave her an upgrade to first
class!
"We had lunch at the airport. They were off at two p.m.
I think they had to change planes in Chicago."
One month later, on my answering machine: 'jonathan, this is me, Vicky. Oh yes! I'm tellin' you! I'm really here! I'm in Montana."
She left her number. I called her back as soon as I got
home.
'jonathan!" It was the first time I had ever talked with
her when she didn't need to struggle to sound cheerful.
"Have you ever eaten elk?"
"No," I said. "Are you eating elk?" "Yes!" she said.
"Where do you get it?"
''At the store."
"What's it like?"
"It tastes like steak. You broil it. Delicious!" "How are the kids?"
"They're in schoo1."
"Any problems?"
"No," she said. "Not yet."
"Any black kids in the school?" "N 0," she said, "except for them." "Does that bother them?"
"I don't think so," she replied, "because they know it
doesn't bother me."
The only thing that bothered her, she said, was walking to the store. "People here? They drive real fast. And there isn't any stoplights on this street at al1. None on the next street either, come to think of it. None on the next street after that. In fact, there isn't any stoplights anywhere in town.
"And, oh! The girl next door-Diane?-she drives me from the IGA if I got too much to carry in my arms.
26
FIRE IN THE ASHES
"I'm tellin' you! There's a lot of friendly people here! "One lady came to bring me milk and asked me, 'I don't mean no harm, but are you prejudiced?' I told her no, because I'm not. She looked at me and then the two of us began to laugh! Because-you know?-you'd think the question would have been the other way around ....
"It's like everybody wants to know: How did I ever get here? Well, I want to know that too! The only thing Dr. Edwards told me is that they was goin' to choose someone. It was something they made up their minds about."
"What's the church like?" "Made of logs."
"What's it called?" "Trinity Church."
"What denomination is it?" "Christian."
"What can you see looking out your windows?" "Mountains!" she replied. "They're on almost every
side."
"Is it snowing?"
"Only in the mountains." "What's it look like?" "Beautiful! "
"The day you got there, when you were coming off the
plane-what was it like? Was Dr. Edwards waiting?"
"Yes, he was there. Not only him. It seemed like everyone in town was there. They had their cars pulled up: twenty people, maybe more. Then Dr. Edwards took us to this house. He said, 'This will be your home.' Then he took us to the church. He said, 'This will be your church.' Then the stores began to send us food. Four stores. Each one gave us groceries: a hundred dollars from each store.
"Oh, Jonathan! It's cold here in the winter, but the
hearts of people in this town are warm."
In the first days after she arrived, she said, she had to
struggle to convince herself that she was really there. "The first night, after Dr. Edwards and his wife were gone? I told the children, 'Leave me be. I need to sit here in this chair.' I told them not to turn on no TV. It's just as well, because they only got three stations here and one of them goes off at six o'clock."
"What's the house like?"
"Oh yeah! Well, I'm in the livin' room right now. It would make up two of them that I used to have. I got two sofas. One of them's a sofa-bed. Over at the other end, there's a dining room and kitchen, which is kind of small, but they're both connected, and I got a washer and a dryer, and I got a microwave which is up above the stove. Three bedrooms. One of them is mine. Other two is down the hall. Seems like it's got everything I need."
"Where do kids there go for fun?"
"To school. McDonald's. Burger King. The IGA. To
ranches. To the church .... " "They go to ranches?"
"Me and Lisette, we went three days ago." "How did you get there?"
"Chrissy picked us up."
"Who's Chrissy?"
"One of my friends."
"Have you made many friends?" "Oh yes!"
I heard shouting in the background. "Wait a minute .... "
Then Lisette picked up the phone.
I asked her whether everything was going good at
school.
"My school is fine!" "How big is it? "Fifteen students." "In the school?"
"No! In my class."
"Are the students nice to yOU?" "Yes," she said.
"You feel okay? You're happy there?"
"I don't want to live in any other place."
In April, Vicky sent me a big envelope of pictures of the mountains, and the ranch-like house in which (hey were living, and the one-story wooden church, which looked like a log cabin. In one of the photographs there were six or seven wooden houses, very tiny, at the bottom of the photo. Above the houses, filling nine-tenths of the picture, there was a spectacular blue sky, with white and gray clouds rolling in from the distant mountains. A single tree, its slender branches reaching high. A small white pick-up truck beneath it. "Looking down the street," she'd written on the
back, "the sky goes on forever."
When I phoned her the next night, she told me she was
spending more time at the church.
"Sunday," she said, "I put my name down on the list for
Hospitality Committee."
"What does that mean?"
"You see, after the service here, we all go in and eat
our meal together. Members of the church, we take turns cookin' for each other. I wanted to make lemon cakes, because I'm good at bakin'. So I put my name down for
next Sunday."
"How's Lisette?"
"Doin' okay. Gettin' B's-but could get Ns, her teacher
says. Needs to get her papers done. Do her homework every night. They give them a lot to do. This is something new to
her."
When I asked the same thing about Eric, though, she sounded more uncertain.
"He's havin' a harder time. Missed too much back in
New York. No one here can figure out what they was doin' with him at his school. Principal says they're tryin' hard to catch him up. Dr. Edwards's talkin' with him now."
"You sound good."
"I'm feelin' good," she said, "but I still have times when
I get scared that something's goin' to go wrong .... " A few months later, at the start of June:
"I got a job."
"What are you doing?"
"Bakin' cookies, fryin' donuts-at the IGA."
"What does it pay?"
"Six dollars twenty-five." She'd started with a part-time
job at Burger King, she said, "but IGA pays better."
She said that Dr. Edwards gave the kids some spending money for a while after they arrived, "so they could do things with their friends." But they didn't need it now. Eric was working at the IGA-"couple of hours, after school." Lisette, meanwhile, was baby-sitting for their neighbors. "She put up these little cards at the IGA. People call her. Mostly weekends. Mothers say she's really good. Feeds the children. Washes them. Tells them stories. Gets them into bed. Sings them songs. If it's late they drive her home."
InJuly, we talked again. She said she still was working at the IGA. "Doin' thirty hours now. Rent here is four-fifty. Church covers two-fifty and I pay the rest. Next month I'll be payin' fifty more. Long as I get thirty hours I think I can
handle it."
She told me she had joined a group of women who
were having problems like the ones that she'd been through, some of them with alcohol, but most of them related to abusive treatment at the hands of men. "I go to meetings at the church. Tuesday nights. Fifteen women. Some are single mothers, same as me. I was scared to talk at first. I'm talkin' now. It's hard for them to make me stop."
30
FIRE IN THE ASHES
When we spoke the next time she told me that Lisette had done "something she shouldn't do" and "got herself in trouble" -not bad trouble, it turned out, but enough to worry Vicky for a time. One of the girls she knew from school had been teaching her to drive. "Kids out here," Vicky said, "they start to drive when they can reach the pedals!"
"What's the legal age?" I asked.
"I think you have to be sixteen. But this is ... something
different here! They do it anyway."
The girl who had been driving, Vicky said, banged
into another person's car. Both the girls had to go to court. "The judge gave them a scolding and he made them pay a fine. They also have to pay the owner of the car for what they did. She's been payin' from her baby-sitting money. I think she owes him fifteen dollars more."
I asked if Dr. Edwards was still visiting a lot.
"Oh yes! He's here a couple times a week. Last week all of us had the flu. He came and gave us medicine and shots."
She said that he'd been taking them on long rides out into the wilderness to see the cattle ranges and the wild animal preserves. "He's forever doing that. He loves his car. We went out with the kids this week to look at one of the
abandoned mines."
"What kind of mines?" "Gold mines!"
"How old is Dr. Edwards?"
"Seventy? Sixty? I'd say maybe sixty-five .... He's got
grandchildren who are Lisette's age. Two of them are girls."
"What does he look like?"
"He's a tall man, healthy-looking. Loves to do things
with the kids outdoors. He's got gray hair."
"Is he a religious man?"
"Oh yes. I'd say he must be a religious man. He don't
talk religion but I know that he's religious."
"How do you know?"
"You know it by the way somebody acts."
At the start of August, Martha sent me a reminder that I'd said I'd transfer money to Vicky, which we promised we would do to help her out with buying school clothes for the fall. I had a small private fund that I'd established for this purpose and for other relatively minor needs that families faced. Sometimes only a couple hundred dollars, at the moment it was needed, could help a family catch up with their rent before they got an order of eviction. For most of the families I knew in the Bronx, few of whom had bank accounts, I had grown accustomed to making wire transfers. I asked Vicky whether she would like the money sent by Western Union or if she'd prefer I send a check to Dr. Edwards, who would cash it for her.
She said I didn't need to send her money but, when I said it was a promise we had made, she said I could send the check directly to her home.
"How will you cash it?"
"I don't need to cash it yet. I'll put it in the bank." "You opened up a bank account?"
"Checking," she replied.
"How long is it since you had a bank account?"
"I never had a bank account in my entire life before.
Jonathan, I'm tellin' you! This is the first time .... "
End of summer: Vicky called to tell me that Lisette had had an accident.
"She was with her girlfriend out at someone's ranch that Dr. Edwards knows. They was runnin' with the horses and she wasn't lookin' and she ran into a hole or something that was full of water. Hurt her ankle. She's on crutches. Hoppin' around from room to room. I'll be relieved when she goes back to school.
32
FIRE IN THE ASHES
"Oh, did I tell you? Eric's got a girlfriend. Actually, he's had a lot of different girlfriends since we got here to this town. He doesn't stick with them too long. He goes through them awful fast. We came here eight months ago? I think he's had a different girl for every month since we
arrived ....
"Oh yes! Dr. Edwards had us to his house for dinner
Sunday night. He invited a friend of his, a high school principal from another town. A black school principal. There you go! He says he wants to talk with Eric more. He says that Eric needs to do a lot of work if he wants to keep up
with his class."
Her voice was strong and energized. She said that she
was working hard-"doin' forty hours now." Between her job, her meetings at the church, getting the children set for school, and keeping on top of them to clean their rooms ("Eric's room is an embarrassment," she said. "He throws his things all over the floor"), it sounded as if she didn't have a lot of time to dwell upon the past.
"Do you ever miss New York?"
"N 0," she said. "I do not. But I miss some people there.
"I was thinkin' -once I feel more settled here, I might
go back to St. Ann's. Maybe I won't tell them. Just walk in the door one day and say, 'Well, here I am!' HI do, I'd like to go by bus this time, and not by plane, because I'd like to see what's down there on the ground.
"Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you that I found my knitting
needles. My friend Diane? She took me to the mall in Bozeman and I got some beautiful blue yarn. I'm using a pattern
that my other girlfriend gave me."
"What are you making?"
"Makin' a sweater-for Lisette. Finished with one
sleeve. Workin' on the other now. This pattern's not too hard. H I have the time, I'm goin' to make a couple more of
them by Christmas."
Shy voice: 'jonathan?" "Yes," I said.
"If I made one for you, would you wear it?" "Are you kidding?"
"There you go!"
- 111-
Christmas Eve.
Vicky called to tell me that she had another job. "It's in a home for the elderly. I'm a dietary aide. It's my third job, and I hope the last one.
"I started Monday. I had to learn about the job. Then, on Tuesday, I did a double shift. Started at six-thirty, went to two o'clock. Then went back at four and worked until ten-thirty. I like old people! Some are disabled. Some have lost their memories. When I have a break, I like to sit and talk with them ....
"Lisette?" she said. "She's at the skating rink. They call it 'The Skating Palace' here. My friend Diane? She likes Lisette. She gave her ice skates as a present.
"The church gave us a Christmas tree. Members of the church came over and they helped me decorate it. Oh yeah! It's for Lisette. Not for me. I'm forty-nine years old!"
She said they still were taking rides with Dr. Edwards.
"There's a town here in Montana which is called Big Timber. Smoky skies. It's by an Indian reserve .... I love to go on rides with him. Lisette too. I told him that he takes the place of my father for me. I never seen my Daddy since I was in junior high.
"I think he's up in Billings now to see one of his
patients. He has patients all over Montana ....
34
FIRE IN THE ASHES
"Did I tell you that we have a woodstove in the living room? Oh yes! When it's cold, we heat with wood, because the gas bill gets so high. Now my friend Yolanda, who lives down the street, has been bringin' wood to us, because her mother's got a truck. It's piled out there in the porch so we
can keep it dry."
Lisette was fourteen by now and continued to do well
in school. Dr. Edwards's granddaughters were her closest friends. In the spring, however, Dr. Edwards told me that the three of them had gotten into trouble. "They were apprehended at the mall in Bozeman. Shoplifting," he reported. "In fairness, I do not condemn Lisette as harshly as the others." It had been his granddaughter, the oldest of the two, who had been "the instigator," he believed. "They were given public service to perform. Lisette will do her service at an animal reserve.
"I'm confident that she'll come out of this okay. She's a
loving girl, so boisterous and warm! And she accepts affection easily. My wife and I take her out to dinner when we can. We took her out a week ago after the court hearing. My wife is very fond of her. She hugs us both a lot."
Eric, on the other hand, was a source of more and more concern to him. "When I told him what had happened to Lisette, his response was awful cold. To quote him: 'I don't see why I should care.' I've spent more time with him than with Lisette. His grades at school are really bad. I'm taking him to Bozeman with me once a week for a tutorial in reading that a friend of mine arranged. So we have a chance to talk, to the degree that he will open up to me at all.
"I told him that I have to make a trip out to Seattle in the summer and I said that I'd enjoy it very much if he'd like to come with me. We could camp out on the way, on the Columbia River. I told him we could do some rafting.
But he was not responsive."
During the summer, Lisette managed to get into minor troubles once again, "nothing bad," Dr. Edwards said, "but I talked about this with her principal and we struck on an
idea."
There was, he said, "an excellent program" for students
of her age-"takes place in Yellowstone .... Three months long. Counseling and leadership, and learning to mark trails. Learning about conservation right there in the wild. They don't indulge them. There's a firmness that is always ready to exert itself if a student pushes things too far."
His hope, he said, was to "catch" Lisette before the minor troubles she'd been getting into grew into much bigger ones. He said he believed, as did her principal and teachers, that she was a gifted child and could do honors work in high school and go on to college, but only if she gained a stronger sense of self-control-and, he added, "of self-understanding." He said that she did not object to his suggestion. "In fact," he added, "she became excited at the thought of going out there in the wilderness."
It proved to be a good idea, as I gathered from a letter Lisette wrote to me from Yellowstone, maybe six weeks
later.
"DearJonathan,
"Hi! Hello! It's Lisette here. I am in the woods right
now. I'm here for three months. Clearing trails .... Cool,
huh?"
It was a short note. She didn't give me many details. "I
hope that everything is going good for you," she ended in her neat and curly schoolgirl printing. "Please write back.
Love, Lisette."
Two weeks later, I got another optimistic note from Dr.
Edwards. "The big news: Lisette has been doing extremely well at Yellowstone." He and Vicky and his wife, he said, had had "the great experience" of going out to see her when
36
FIRE I;.J THE ASHES
the students' parents were allowed to visit after they had been there in the wilderness two months. "I'd have given a hundred bucks for you to be there with us."
At the end of the day, he said, "we all sat in a circle.
Lisette and the other kids talked about the parts of the experience that mattered most to them. Lots of tears and hugs among the kids and counselors. She comes home in one more month. Here's some pictures of her that I know
you'll like."
In one of the pictures, Lisette was running with a
bunch of other kids across a grove of trees. The branches, covered with thick foliage, were hanging almost to the ground. In another, a close-up, she was wearing something like an army jacket and a woolen hat that was pulled down to her forehead and was smiling brightly, with a look of mischief, right into the camera. On the back of the picture Dr. Edwards wrote, "When they came back from the woods, Lisette told us, 'I feel like one dirty bird.' They wash themselves and their clothes in cold lakes and streams-no soap!
But she's a happy camper."
The news continued to be good after she returned to
school. "She's really blossoming," Dr. Edwards told me. "Doing honors, getting Ns, and the school by reputation is one of the best ones in the area. She's popular among the other students, does cheerleading, sings in the choir. But
she's careful about boys .... "
The news about her brother was less cheerful. "I'm sad
to tell you he dropped out of school last week because the school will not allow a student to continue to play sports if he has failing grades, and that was just about the only thing he really seemed to care about. The school was willing to work with him and give him extra help. His teachers didn't want him to drop out. The truth is that he never gave it a
real try.
"He's repeated once already. Now he's over eighteen and has no degree and no longer has a job. He doesn't stay at home a lot. He seems to stay with different girls, until they've had enough of him. Then he crashes with Victoria. Then he's gone again.
"When I try to talk with him, he turns away his eyes.
He tells me that he'd like to join the military. But they won't accept him. They insist on a diploma. My friend, who is a principal in another district"-this was the black principal that Vicky had described-"has talked with Eric several times. He tells me that he 'closes down' and gives him almost no replies.
"So Vicky has her hands full. When Eric's home, the house becomes a hangout for a whole group of his friends and, to be quite blunt about it, not the kinds of friends I'd like to see him with. Vicky works 'til late at night, so she can't control this. And, when she's there, the boys are pretty rude to her."
The news continued to be worrisome through the fall and winter of the year. By the beginning of their third year in Montana, Vicky started falling into the depressive moods from which she used to suffer in New York. "She's deeply troubled about Eric," Dr. Edwards said. "I've put her on some mild medication and it seems to make a difference. She's been successful in her job. She tells me that she loves it. I hope that she'll keep on .... "
He wrote me six months later, in June of 1999, with another mixed report: "Lisette remains a spot of brightness in a zone of growing darkness. Eric's a loose cannon. His most recent girlfriend, with whom he's been living now for nearly half a year-the very attractive daughter of a very white truck-driver who happens to be a Christian fundamentalist-is now very pregnant." Her father, he said, "is in a frantic state and is known here as a man that you don't
38
FIRE IN THE ASHES
want to mess with. So Eric's in some danger, which I've cautioned him about. I've also spoken with the father."
Two months later: "The police have put a warrant out for Eric. It seems he's been involved in robberies with one of his problematic friends. I gather they've been doing this repeatedly. Amazingly, his girlfriend sticks it out with him, although it's been real stormy. 'Hurricane force' is how I would describe it. I'm surprised her father hasn't
popped him."
The racial factor, he surmised, was always in the back-
ground and, with Eric out of school, out of work, living off a girl he had made pregnant, Dr. Edwards speculated that her father "may well look at Eric as a prime example of the racial nightmare- 'irresponsible and dangerous young black man' -appearing in real life." Still, no father, he observed, even one without the slightest bit of bigotry, could be expected to be empathetic and forgiving toward a boy who put his daughter in this situation. All the father knew was that his daughter, who was Eric's age but was a student at the university by now, was living with a man who had given ample evidence that he was unprepared to be a husband that his daughter could rely upon. When he heard that Eric was arrested, he had yet another reason for
concern.
Throughout this time, Vicky and I remained in con-
tact with each other, but her letters and her phone calls had become less candid and informative than they'd been before. On a few occasions she confirmed what Dr. Edwards had been telling me, but not in full and, most often, long
after the fact.
"Eric?" she said. "He's with his girlfriend quite a lot,
but he keeps on comin' back. I cannot put him out." She said that she could not forget how hard it was for Eric when they had been homeless and before they even got into the
shelters. "We were sleeping in a friend's house. If we got there and the door was locked, we slept out in the hallway. Lisette was just a baby then. He was the one that went and asked for food at the White Castle. So I sometimes ask myself: Am I the one to blame for all the troubles that he's had? But he makes it very hard .... "
She didn't tell me yet that he'd dropped out of school.
She didn't speak about his girlfriend's pregnancy. She didn't say he'd been arrested. She didn't speak about the medication Dr. Edwards gave her. She did say, "I been prayin' for my son. I'm askin' God to help me."
When we spoke the next time, she said that she had finally made a trip back to New York but had somehow lost the will to go back to St. Ann's and had come back quickly. While she was gone, Lisette had been staying with Dr. Edwards and his wife. Eric, meanwhile, had been fighting with his girlfriend so, in Vicky'S absence, he went back into her house and, because he had no key-"I told him that I didn't want him goin' there while I was in New York"-he'd broken in with several of his friends, "messed up the place, rang up a huge bill on my phone, and robbed me of some money I had left there."
"Where is he now?"
"He's back with his girlfriend, but he comes here when he wants. If I'm at work he pries the window open."
She said that Eric's girlfriend had come to the house alone after Eric robbed her. "Yeah! She knew. She found out that he done it. So she came and told me she was sorry, and she stayed and talked with me while he was gone off somewhere with his friends. She's a sweet girl and I know she likes me and I found out quite a lot. She told me Eric isn't treatin' her the way he should. He yells at her. She says he's raised his hand to her."
This information, Vicky said, had saddened her tremendously. The thought that he had been abusive to this
40
FIRE IN THE ASHES
girl, who trusted him and was in love with him, "made me disappointed in my son."
It was a while after that before I heard from her again.
Her telephone was disconnected for a time because she never caught up with the bills that Eric left her. She wrote me a few letters, and in one of them she opened up more fully than before about the troubles Eric had been going through. "Got three weeks for stealing gas. It was for his girlfriend's car. He uses it whenever he likes. He goes out riding with his friends." His girlfriend was afraid of saying
no to him, she said.
She also told me that the break-ins Eric made into her
house and the wildness of the friends he brought with him were causing problems with her neighbors, and she said her landlord spoke with her about this. I was glad she was confiding in me once again, but I was worried by the growing time-lag between the news that I received from Dr. Edwards and the news that Vicky felt prepared to share with me.
The letter ended on a slightly upbeat note. "Lisette still goes to church with me. Church members taking turns to pick us up on Sundays. I'm trying to think positive.
"I'm ending this letter now. "God bless you.
"Victoria."
-IV-
Vicky had said that she was trying to "think positive."
But positive thinking, as highly recommended as it is, can be overrated as a salutary and sufficient answer to calamitous conditions that are far beyond the power of an individual to alter or control in more than small degrees. For all the efforts she had made, for all the help her neighbors gav.e
her, for all the love and loyalty Dr. Edwards never ceased to demonstrate to her and to her children, Vicky found herself unable to escape the shadow of her history.
It was Eric's uncontrollable behavior that finally brought her down. In April of 2000, after Eric once again had broken into Vicky's house with a number of his friends while she was at her job and Lisette was working late at school, the police were called by people in the neighborhood-"music blasting and loud voices," Dr. Edwards said-and Vicky was at last evicted from her home.
Although the members of the church helped her get resettled, she fell into a state of bad depression once again and, having earlier been careful about overuse of alcohola couple of beers late at night when she came home from work, maybe something stronger on the weekends when she was relaxing with a friend-she now began to drink much sooner in the day in order to subdue the feelings of foreboding that had overtaken her.
"After doing a good job at the nursing home," Dr.
Edwards wrote to me, "and having recently been given a nice raise in pay, she abruptly quit. She simply was unable to get up and out into the world and face the pressures of the day. Alcohol and antidepressant medications, as you know, can be a deadly brew. I'm going to start all over, if she'll let me, with another intervention."
In a follow-up note in May, he was more hopeful, but cautiously so. "Vicky has joined a twelve-step program. It was begun by a young physician here in Bozeman, an excellent man who, unhappily, developed an addictionto Demerol, I think-while he was in training, and is very good and sensitive with people in her situation. He's been successful with a number of my patients but in Vicky's case I have to say I've got my fingers crossed. She's fallen deep into her drinking. I don't know if she can stop." When I asked what she was living on, he said she was on welfare
42
FIRE IN THE ASHES
and, he thought, she might be doing part-time work when she was well enough to handle it.
It was more than seven months after that before I
heard from Vicky. Her phone had been cut off again after her eviction, but she said, "I got a new phone now." To my surprise, and a bit to my confusion, she sounded upbeat
and excited when she called.
"Oh yes! You know what I did? I took the bus to Geor-
gia and I saw my Daddy! He's seventy-four. I hadn't seen him since I was fourteen. His birthday was on Christmas Day. I made him a sweater. Same as yours, except in green.
"Did I tell you that my father's a musician? Yes! He's in a gospel choir. They were having a rehearsal on the day before I left. I said, 'Daddy, you're going to rehearsal. Would you let me come with you?' My father was so happy!"
She didn't say a word about the latest difficulties Dr.
Edwards had described. Not a mention of the job she'd given up, the twelve-step program she'd begun, the struggle she'd been going through to fight off her depression. And she said nothing this time in reference to her son. The same sense of disconnect I'd noted in our conversations from the year before left me with a great deal of uneasiness again.
In his letters, Dr. Edwards's references to Eric had become increasingly disheartening. "I've tried again and again to sit him down and talk with him, but he isn't interested, doesn't want to listen, doesn't want to tell me anything at all." He said that Eric's girlfriend had ended their relationship. He also said he had some reason to believe that Eric and his friends were "gravitating into drugs or stolen pharmaceuticals." He noted, too, that Eric was now living in his own apartment and, by all appearances, paying his own rent. So he said he had to wonder where the money
came from.
In the summer of that year-it was now 200l-he told me Vicky was no longer showing up for meetings at her twelve-step program. He also said she'd moved again, and more than once, as I discovered later. "I stopped by to visit with her just a week ago. She'd been drinking heavily. It was hard to get straight answers from her. It's as if she's sitting there just waiting for the bad news she's expecting."
Six weeks went by.
'Jonathan," Vicky said in a message on my phone.
"I have something terrible to tell you. I lost my son two days ago. Eric was shot-shot with a shotgun to his head. He would have been twenty-two this Sunday." She left me her phone number. When I called her back, her voice was blurred and breaking. "I don't know how to say this," she began. "My son has taken his own life ....
"Day he died, I'd called him in the mornin'. He said that he was with his friends, playin' cards and havin' fun." Then, all of a sudden, she reported, Eric sounded very scared. "'Mummy, I don't feel no good. I need your help.' I said, 'Okay. Come over here right now.'
"A few minutes later, he was at the door. He came in by his self, and then his friends came in. I didn't know why he let them come with him, but I was thinkin' they'll be gone and then he'll be alone with me. They went into another room and it was quiet for a while. Then I heard it, right behind the wall, and I went in and saw the shotgun lay in' there across the floor. There was blood all over him. It was comin' from his head ....
"N ext thing, the police was there. Police was comin' up the stairs. Then they was tryin' to revive him. Then they put him on a stretcher and they carried him downstairs and took him to the hospital, but they said I shouldn't come. But fifteen minutes after that another man from the police, he took me with him in his car and said that he would stay
44
FIRE IN THE ASHES
with me. Then a doctor came out from the door and he got up and spoke to him, and then he sat down next to me and held my hands and told me that my son was dead.
"He asked me was there anyone I would want to contact and I told him Dr. Edwards. But Dr. Edwards, he'd already heard. And he came in and he was there and he took me to my house. And then his wife. And other people from the church. They wouldn't let me be alone. And, after that, Lisette was there. And Dr. Edwards's wife went out-
side to talk with her."
I asked her whether anybody close to him, anyone who
cared for him, had told her that he was depressed before
she spoke with him that day.
"No one. No one knew. He just kept it in. I told Lisette
I pray from this she'll always tell me what she's feelin' when she's feelin' bad. 'Never hold it in,' I said, 'because I been there and I love you and I couldn't bear it if I lost
' "
you 00 ....
Dr. Edwards mourned for Eric like the father he had
tried to be for him. He condemned himself for never having found a way to penetrate those walls of isolation in which Eric had enclosed himself. "Starting months ago," he said, "I had my struggles about being the prime mover, asking whether everything that he was going through was somehow of my doing. I've tried to come to peace with this, but I haven't given up my questioning. It's going to be a long time, I'm afraid, before I do.
"There are some who are convinced it was a homicide.
Several of his friends, as I believe you know, had followed him into that room, and no one has explained what they were doing when that shot rang out. But the police have interviewed the boys and studied the case carefully, and all the evidence seems to confirm it was a suicide."
Again and again, he came back to the question of
t
his own responsibility. "I realized there were going to be problems from the first time Vicky opened up to me. And after she had been here for a while she confided in me more and she told me quite a lot of what the kids had undergone when they were in New York. But I overestimated the potential of a different place and different opportunities to overcome what I had hoped they'd left behind."
Weeks after Eric's death, I found that I kept coming back to what Vicky said he'd told her on the phone. "Mummy, I don't feel no good. I need your help"-and her reply, "Come over here right now." For all of the defensive toughness and aloofness others saw in him, he had spoken to his mother in that moment in the way that frightened children do. If he had only come alone and told her what he feared, might she have held him in her arms and given him the sense of safety he was asking for? Could she have been for him, in the hour when he needed it, the mother she herself had never had?
From that time on, Dr. Edwards and those members of the church who were Vicky's closest friends did everything they could to help her and Lisette to reconstruct at least some semblance of stability. Lisette regained her footing rather quickly. She was now a senior and continued getting honors grades and was making plans to go to college. She was, Dr. Edwards said, "a mature and capable young woman" and "happily in love" with an only slightly older man, a student at the university- "a serious and decent guy by the name of Thomas who is very much in love with her as well." He said that she'd been living with him for a time, but it seemed important to him to explain that they were "married under common law" which, he wanted me to know, "is binding in Montana."
A short time later, he told me she was pregnant but he was confident that this would not prevent her graduat-
46
FIRE IN THE ASHES
ing high school and proceeding with her plans for higher education. "We had dinner with them, and Lisette made clear that she has no intention of returning to New York. She's looking at some colleges around Atlanta now. She and Thomas seem to have a good perspective on the choices they'll be making. As a couple, they seem very solid, very
strong."
Vicky, on the other hand, continued to be almostincon-
solable. "I went over there to visit her the other night. She told me she was drinking. But she didn't need to tell me. I could see that she was pickled when she came to the front door. I'd been told she was starting a new job, but there's no way she could have gone to work in the condition that
I saw."
I spoke with Vicky very seldom after that. Usually her
voice was faint and her words were often slurred and the little information that she chose to share with me was never very clear. Before long, there were no more messages from Vicky on my phone. I didn't know if she had moved again. The most recent number she had given me appeared to be
cut off.
In one of the final letters that he sent me, Dr. Edwards
said, "I don't see Vicky anymore, which saddens me, but she no longer seeks my company. I've tried my best to keep in touch. My wife and I drive over there from time to time, but we never find her home and the messages I leave for her
are not returned."
Eight months after Eric died, I received a very grown-up
and reflective letter from Lisette. "Since my brother was laid down to rest, my mother has been struggling. Dr. Edwards says he told you she's been drinking. She was broken by my brother's death. I love her, but I have to use my strength to
save myself.
"Thomas and I are doing our best to pay our bills and
taking good care of our daughter. We were married in a church on May 15. I graduate next week. Then we're going to move south so I can enter college in September."
She said that they had changed their plans and were looking at a town near Myrtle Beach because her husband's relatives were living in that area. Her husband had applied for transfer to a college there, which she would be attending too.
They must have moved soon after that. I wasn't sure if she received the letter I had sent her in reply. Dr. Edwards, who was well into his seventies by now, was no longer able to maintain the pace he used to keep, and he soon retired. Within another year or so, he told me he had lost all contact with Lisette and Vicky. Many years went by before I got word of them again.
It came in a phone call from South Carolina in 2009.
Lisette still had a little of that buoyant schoolgirl voice that had endeared her to so many people in her teenage years, but she was twenty-six by now, the mother of four children. With time taken off to raise the children, she was heading toward completion of her studies to become a paralegal. Her husband was completing a degree in dentistry.
Her mother, she said, had suffered greatly in her final years from pancreatic cancer. "Her social worker called me from Montana and told me she would probably not live for very long. We brought her here to stay with us. She started chemotherapy. We took her to a hospital in Charleston to receive her treatments and we thought that she was doing well, until she just stopped eating. She had lived eleven months. She died at home with our kids around her. She's buried at the cemetery with my husband's family."
In her final words she said, "I'm going to give a good life to my children. I have to do it. I'm the one who made it through. I'm a stronger person now. I guess that I was always stronger than I knew.
"Please give my love to Martha when you speak to her.
And if you're ever here near Myrtle Beach we would love to have you come and visit us. We have room for you to stay. If you like, I'll take you out to see my mother's grave. I know
how much she meant to you.
"Okay? I have to go! Say a prayer for me!"
Logging in, please wait...
0 General Document comments
0 Sentence and Paragraph comments
0 Image and Video comments
I really liked this line with both its literal description of the irony of the largest homeless shelter and these symbols of excessive wealth and privilege and also the metaphoric weight of the closeness and proximity of these two vastly different worlds. In the Wire we see this as the show quickly reverberates between the poverty of the pit and then to Lt. Daniel’s home that gives off such a regal air for a police officer. For anyone that has ever been to Baltimore or other older, the geography just like described here with the Martinique Hotel Shelter, has this same quick change between circumstances. Walking, you can find yourself going from a good to bad area with only a few wrong turns or blocks. These seemingly separate worlds are not so disparate. In sociology this sort of obvious visible reminders of vast inequality drains society. It is a negative externalilty that only perpetuates the cycle of inequality of opportunity and inequality go outcomes.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I found this paragraph to be very telling of the kind of nation that we are. The situation Kozol describes is sad, but true. While lots of people study issues such as crime, drug dealing, homelessness, rape, poverty, racism, and more, few people get first-hand experience or really get involved with the troubling situations. We have read a lot of work this year on people who have invested in their studies and participated in a kind of fieldwork that has left them with a much better understanding of certain issues. However, most people do not want to be obligated, as Kozol states, to actually face the problems. It makes me think. Our whole class is going to watch the entire series of The Wire, but are we ever going to drive through the streets of west Baltimore? Kozol’s work encourages me to want to actually do something about the saddening statistics and racial issues we have discussed this semester, and not just study them.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with Virginia. When I read this part of the reading I couldn’t help but think about how so many people in America today enjoy watching television shows and movies about people living in poverty, but most of those viewers are nothing more than viewers. It is one thing to spread awareness,but it is another to actually act on it. Charlottesville clearly has a lot of homeless people. Many hang out on the corner, some on the downtown mall. When reading this part of the article I thought about how its not too far off from the situation on the corner. A lot of people just do not want to see the homeless people. I have heard adults and students talk about “the homeless problem” on the corner, and how they should be moved elsewhere. This reminds me of the article as well, because these homeless families that Kozel talks about just keep getting relocated until they end up somewhere where people do not mind their presence. Which ends up being somewhere of extreme poverty. If the homeless people are removed from the corner in Charlottesville where would they be sent?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with Virginia and Zana that this was a particularly distressing part of the text. When people relocate homeless people or the poor (or, as still happens, minorities) from areas where the upper and middle classes frequent then it necessarily leads to greater economic stratification. Both Kozol and ‘The Wire’ impressed upon me the self-perpetuating downward spiral that relocation and stratification has on the poor. Once the poor are moved to areas deemed acceptable for them to live, they leave those areas with better funded public services and prospects. As we discussed last week, school funding being tied with property taxes is an example of how poor areas stay poor.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with all of the comments above. It has become easy for us to overlook the pain and suffering of those around us, like that of the homeless population in instances like the one Kozol describes. It seems as though modern society, perhaps as a result of the capitalism and materialism that drives our lives today, is so obsessed with individual success and happiness that we have grown accustomed to overlooking the general wellbeing of those around us. Our society lacks the genuine compassion and consideration that is necessary to give everyone a fair chance. I think The Wire does an especially good job of conveying this lack of compassion while forcing viewers to have feelings for even the most vile characters. The Wire does what modern society cannot, it paints almost everyone as a real person with a story and a dream. It does not allow us to throw people away like discarded objects.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I agree that this was a very difficult part of the text for the irony of paying so much money to see a Broadway show about the impoverished class with a street child as a key character and then gawking at the actual ones panhandling outside the theater. Its so sad because its true. There is so little sympathy given to the homeless and impoverished, no thought wasted on what circumstances may have lead them there. While reading this, I could not stop thinking about how a few students dressed up as homeless people from the corner for trick or treating on the Lawn and how much it deeply disturbed me. Not only did they think this was an acceptable joke, but did not even think about how they most likely had to walk by the actual homeless on the corner in their costumes. Its is this sort of emotionless disregard for poverty, the idea that there some are deserving and undeserving of their status that it so troubling. No one would ever think it would be ok to dress up as a starving child in Africa, but why then are the poor and homeless in our neighborhood suddenly fair game?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I think you bring up some really interesting points, Alexandra. After reading this paragraph, like many of you all I immediately was reminded of the homeless people that often hang out on the Corner. I really struggle with the various opinions whether they should be relocated, etc. Part of me feels very uncomfortable when I walk by them, sometimes because I feel guilty about not helping them out, and other times I feel scared because they occasionally get confrontational. Sometimes it frustrates me that I am forced to deal with these controversial feelings every time I just want to walk home peacefully, I carelessly think that maybe they should be relocated. But Alexandra brought up a great point about how this won’t solve anything until they are eventually relocated to somewhere with extreme poverty. I feel like this is an internal struggle that a lot of students deal with, whether to ignore, help, or just simply accept the homeless population on the Corner.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I think this raises an even bigger issue of our time-to idea of slacktivism. Today, we believe that if we are doing anything along the lines of ‘participating in a cause’ like liking it on Facebook, retweeting a Tweet, or even watching a TV series about it, we are in a sense emotionally invested and making some sort of difference. With the rise of social media campaigns, sure, awareness is heightened, which is never a bad thing. But, people begin to treat legitimate issues the way they do a post on the internet…they see it, click the like button and keep scrolling down their newsfeed. In response to what you said, Virginia, I think you are right that 5/8 of the class will definitely never make it out to the Baltimore streets. But I am almost positive that because our classmates have watched and read up about the streets, they will feel as if they fully understand the underlying issues and see that as involvement in the problem enough. I unfortunately do not think the things we are reading and seeing will spark any physical response to the growing issues of crime, drug dealing, poverty, racism etc, all because of the quickly dominating slacktivism culture.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with Morgan and think she raises an issue that needs to be addressed and remedied. As college students with Facebook, we are constantly being propositioned to “like a cause for a free candy bar” or “show your support, there will be free pizza”. But why is it that incentives are necessary? If someone feels passionate about a cause, they should be willing to seek out ways to support it or raise awareness, not the other way around. I think that the first step is awareness. Why is it that as a white citizen, I never know whether it is better to call someone african-american or black? and why is it that I feel awkward addressing the issue to begin with?
This made me think of the senior editor Whiting in the Wire who doesn’t want to write a story on education that exposes all the social ills of society. American society needs to stop making racism the ‘elephant in the room’ and instead be willing to have the straightforward yet awkward conversations like the ones we’ve been having in class. Although it is still hard to determine how to take the insights we’ve discussed in class and apply them to making real life changes, I think that the fact we are even thinking about applying them or trying to change things shows an interest.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
“People were paying a great deal of money to enjoy an entertainment fashioned from the misery of children of another era.”
HBO is an exclusive service you pay for. So you pay to watch The Wire. And although it shines a valuable, garish, and revealing light on the workings of Baltimore and the U.S. (Institutions, Lack of Upward Mobility, Poverty Class, “laissez faire racism” as Wilson calls it, etc.), doesn’t it also provide the viewers with a voyeuristic indulgence?
The Wire is a very important show for educational purposes. There is no doubt about that. In addition to that, it’s extremely good and entertaining television. Going further, I’m curious to know if it has ever spurred anyone to social activism?
As upper middle class t.v. watchers, do we value the safe viewing distance provided by The Wire? A distance that removes the possibility of physical interaction?
Couldn’t one substitute “Les Miserables” for “The Wire?”
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
Alex’s point “I’m curious to know if it has ever spurred anyone to social activism?” is interesting as social media these days tends to highlight atrocities, poverty, yet people merely share the videos, blog posts, or other content to spread awareness of the problem instead of spending time or money to make an actual difference in the problem. For example, someone can share a video clip from the Wire to raise awareness that poverty is a problem in Baltimore, but they aren’t doing anything to help the cause. This phenomenon is referred to as slacktivism. As the Washington Post states “Campaigns targeting slacktivists are usually based on the logic that increased awareness of a cause is in and of itself a worthy reason to pursue them.” It is definitely interesting to think if highlighting issues of gangs and poverty in the wire actually help mitigate these issues in society.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Les Mis is one of these big blockbuster musicals with a moving barricade and a big red flag, flashing lights, and this grand instrumentation. Broadway plays 8 shows a week, a matinee, a Saturday night show for the kids. HBO and the Wire on the other hand comes on late at night, past kids’ bedtime, on this pay cable service almost made it seem dangerous or naughty to watch. Both sets of audiences pay to watch. There’s this entertainment value that gives a distance to this reality that makes social activism hard to occur.
The Wire as a musical, I’m still waiting to see: http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/414fa4b226/the-wire-the-musical-with-michael-kenneth-williams
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Alex’s comment, about The Wire spurring social activism is very intriguing because it highlights an issue in social media and society today. In today’s society, many people talk about change and making a difference but few rarely go out and walk the walk. For example, when the whole “Ice Bucket Challenge” hit social media, it was clear that a vast majority of the people were only doing it for the attention rather than actually donating money to the cause. I think that is the same case with The Wire as an educational show; from a distance change sounds good, but when confronted by real life “Wire” situations, change seems like something foreign.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This observation also brings up the difficult issue of “engagement with the other.” It is much easier for middle and upper middle class people to see poverty and despair from the stage or television than engage with it from real life. Seeing poverty in media is “safe.” It doesn’t require any real effort on the part of the viewers and still allows people to maintain social distance from the impoverished.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I think people can definitely argue that there are connections between the idea in the reading that Alex brings up: “People were paying a great deal of money to enjoy an entertainment fashioned from the misery of children of another era.”and The Wire. Although watching The Wire spreads awareness of the hardships faced by a variety of people on Baltimore, it rarely leads to actual activism as far as I am concerned. It is a little uncomfortable to think about how people are watching this show for their own enjoyment. However, I think it watching show like The Wire bring an new understanding of poverty to people who previously may have blamed the victim. Watching shows like The Wire can raise sympathy for people living in poverty such as druggies and drug dealers who people may have judged before watching the show. While it may not lead to a revolution, perhaps viewers of these shows would be more likely to help out other people or will treat them differently than they did prior to watching the show. There doesn’t seem to be any harm in swaying opinions towards sympathizing with people living in poverty.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This just seems very petty to me and unbelievable. It is interesting to what extent officials/society will go to eradicate homelessness. I understand that it is all about money too. I mean, having homeless people in an area does , I guess, bring down value, but then are people placing value over a man’s life? Instead of using that money to genuinely help the situation, they would rather someone else handle the problem while they get their job done. I think that is the problem with the world. We always pass our problems over to the next. Nobody wants to handle them.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This paragraph’s discussion of the removal of the homeless from midtown Manhattan reminded me about studies I have done in American Studies about Urban Renewal initiatives in Charlottesville and other communities across America in the mid-twentieth century. While improved conditions sounded like a genuine cause for change, implementers and city officials mainly were called to action by the idea of economic growth opportunity and commercial development. Blighted “neighborhood units” were completely demolished due to being in unsatisfactory conditions and their typically extremely high density populations were forced to resettles. Ghettos were basically cleared and secondary ghettos were formed in a different location – no positive change being brought about for this population, but commercial opportunities were now made available for already successful portions of the populations. The needs for lower class community redevelopment and humanistic support are completely neglected by lower government administration and a unequal socio-economic hierarchy of needs is sustained.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This sentence strikes me as fairly reminiscent upon what Bunny Colvin did in Season Three by creating Hamsterdam. In essence, Hamsterdam was not an attempt to end drug abuse or the sale of illegal drugs, but rather to mitigate violence from all areas save one – one isolated and congested corner of “drug freedom” so to speak. While this did brighten the newly freed neighborhoods, what did it do to those caught in the trappings of drug addiction and gang membership? Did those members of society, similar to the homeless people within this story, no longer count? I can see the benefits of “cleaning out” an area, but do those benefits justify the results for everyone? It really comes down to a question of Economics, and in particular, to Pareto Efficiency, which is where a system achieves equilibrium only when no party can receive more utility unless the opposing party occurs a loss. While some would argue that a major increase in utility for some (those present in the newly clean zones) that results only in a slight loss for others (those who went from homeless one place to homeless somewhere worse or those who went from selling drugs on the corner to selling drugs in a slightly more dangerous and condensed zone) is justifiable, others think that even a slight loss in utility is unfair.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I really like this application of economics to the problem of housing the homeless. The trouble with the pareto efficiency equilibrium is that people in the margins of society, such as homeless people, are not adequately represented in the system. Improving the living conditions of the homeless would definitely provide utility to them, but it comes at a cost that they are unable to pay. Therefore, at natural equilibrium, homeless people receive minimal utility and horrible living conditions. Improving these conditions comes at a cost, and to maintain “equilibrium” in this system while also improving the living conditions of the homeless, the government must step in and financially provide better living conditions for the homeless, so that no members of this system incur a cost.
This theoretical model of dealing with the homeless population simplifies the problem, but leaves out many of the key factors that are often excluded from economic models. The model neglects the position that the women in these homeless shelters are put in, often forced into prostitution-type roles. The model neglects all of the costs that are incurred by the homeless, because costs incurred by them are not seen as a “cost to society”.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I absolutely agree with both of you guys. I don’t know much about Economics, ut the Pareto Efficiency problem practically describes ice in general. It seems that nobody can be happy/have more without someone else exhibiting a loss. I think that is really interesting because here in America we are so quick to dismiss “homeless people” because of the stigmas attached. It is one thing to clean out an area, but don’t people understand that when you "clean out an area’, but don’t necessarily take care of the problem, the problem will just occur elsewhere? We never think about the implications posed upon the homeless. This reminded me of the documentary that we watched in class about baltimore and how they said that the police were doing their best to relieve violence and crime in one area, but what that ended up doing was simply pushing the crime further out.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I found this paragraph as vivid example of the idea that good or bad parenting can be measured by how well parents can stave off the responsibility of survival from their own children.“Bad” parents would “allow” their children to go out into the streets and beg on their own, according to this theory. But this account of the Martinique shows that the opportunity to grow up “slowly” is a luxury of circumstance; the buffers of wealth and a nurturing environment incubate children from callous realities of survival. But without these buffers, the barbs of hunger and poverty can show that children can grow up very quickly. Children will realize what they need to do to feed themselves when parents become a little less than omnipotent gatekeepers and a little more human; when children see that their parents are hungry, desperate, and afraid just like children, the lines of responsibility begin to blur.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
This paragraph was a particularly chilling reminder of how many people wrongly believe poverty to be a voluntary condition or a result of “culture” or poor parenting. Bill O’Reilly and many others would tell us that this is an example of poor parenting and a problematic culture. In reality, the lack of access to good housing precipitates this problem. As Kozol writes, this criticism would have “relented somewhat if they understood how rapidly the competence of many of these parents had come to be eroded by the harshness of conditions in that building.” In other words, a child’s success isn’t purely a product of their parents’ good intentions since it is far easier to be a good parent when you have access to good and affordable housing, healthcare etc.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I had a lot of similar thoughts as you, Ben. It clear to me that there are so many other factors that play into a child’s success besides parenting. We talked about it in class too, how even though no one wants to admit it, if you grow up in a privileged, upper-middle class home, your chances of success when you grow up are infinitely greater than those of children of poverty. You could have the worst parents in the world, but if you came from a wealthy home, your chances are still so much greater than a child with great parents from a poor community. The biggest factor to me is clearly your environment. It affects how others perceive you and how you perceive yourself, and therefore ultimately determines your success.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I also wanted to touch on this notion of “bad parenting” . I’m quite surprised that everyone came to this conclusion as well. Those middle class people who are in the car – what would their first response be if a young child ran across their car begging for money. Like Kozol says, most people would be easy to damn the children’s parents for raising them so poorly. But in reality this action is similar to what Buck said, its the children taking initiative to try and stay alive – because their home is just so destructive it is not possible.
I think we can all agree that bad parenting is not, if not simply the only reason for stories like these …
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
When the author talks about “Bad parenting” it makes me wonder about nicety. So people would rather not be aware of the destitution these kids are going through. I find it difficult to blame these children and even their parents for the children trying to take matters into their own hands and hel their family. I am not highlighting the fact that children are doing this in the world, I am merely trying to understand and condemn the people who want to talk about their family and their position, like they know something about being homeless or poor. It seems as though society just does not want to be faced with the truth which is sad. I have noticed that in order to ask for “help” in their world, people want to be approached in a certain way… maybe with advertisements of a poor child with big eyes and a bulging stomach will do?
It is not parenting, it is their circumstance and if people would have some compassion and society would find a elution rather then further delaying it, maybe being homeless wouldn’t be so common?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I completely agree and think this points to the nuanced way the Wire showed parenthood in the inner city. Dukie’s parents obviously show the most evident lack of interest in parenting due to their drug addiction but even kids like Randy with Miss Anna face difficulties staying out of the street culture. I think that to put the blame on parents doesn’t really illuminate the complex interplay of factors. One thing Kozol points to so well is that this is intergenerational poverty- these parents went to the same shitty schools, grew up in the same dangerous neighborhoods. It’s easy (as Bill O’Reilly shows) to point to “culture” or the absence of good parents, but harder to examine the way those parents become “eroded by the harshness” of inner city life.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I think this thread gets right to the heart of the cycle of poverty. One statistic from William Julius Wilson’s writing that really stuck with me was that 70% of all children born into poverty will live in poverty for the rest of their lives, and all of these comments hit on some of the reasons for that. Darren points out that families without the “buffers” of a comfortable, or even subsistent life cannot abide (literally cannot survive) by the “socially acceptable” channels of society. Children and parents at the margins are forced to partake in what many see as unsavory or undignified work. This means they either partake in illegal activity or demeaning activity:both have an impact on the self-image of these people and strengthen the counter-culture in which they live. Ben’s comment about decent housing in interesting too. I agree that for people to escape poverty a holisitic alternative must be available, and this certainly includes housing. Indeed when Vicki moved it seemed that in her new home she had escaped the cycle of poverty. Unfortunately as we saw, sometimes relocation is not enough, but I agree that it’s a start. Unfortunately, providing decent housing for everyone living in urban poverty is neither feasible nor a priority of the state. As Anne points out, it isn’t the culture that makes the institutions, but rather the institutions that make the culture. As Anderson pointed out, many people living in inner city poverty feel as if the state has failed them or abandoned them; the people living in the Martinique Hotel certainly have every reason to feel this way. The violent counter-culture is a response-it’s an attempt to carve out existence and gain respect in a system that seems not to care if poor people have either.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
As we’ve discussed in class several times, you can’t choose your parents. Sure, life would be a whole lot easier if that was the case, but I think there are actually interesting similarities that can be drawn between good and bad parents of varying circumstances. A bad parent from an upper class white family living in Beverly Hills is going to look similar to a bad parent from a lower class African American family living in Inglewood. Taking the factor of money out of the picture, each situation involves parents who turn a blind eye to their children’s mostly illegal activities. A wealthy white kid gets away with buying drugs and doing them under his own roof because of distant parenting, while a poor African American kid gets away with selling the drugs and deeply investing himself in to the game. I know this is an interestingly far stretch, but I think Darren’s point of good and bad parents raises way more connections to all walks of life than we initially think of.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I think it is interesting how these first couple of paragraphs mention how the infants and mothers suffered during this time at the Martinique. It makes me reflect a lot on how not only the boys in the Wire suffer, but the mothers suffer as well. Kozol states that in this shelter “sleepless parents suffered from depression; mothers wept in front of me”. In the Wire, we see Michael’s mother suffer from drug abuse throughout season 4. She is not capable of taking care of Michael’s little brother. We see Namond’s mother suffer from the thought that Namond must be apart of the drug trade to assure that they will make a living, so she is constantly nagging. What interests me the most is how the women of the Wire take on differing roles and how these roles seem to make them suffer. In season 4, while Michael’s mother is on drugs, Namond’s mother is nagging him to get work done in the drug trade. These awful conditions that are discussed in this reading and are shown in the Wire seem to not only affect the boys, but also the mothers as well.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I think Danielle’s comment is really interesting. We have been talking about how the boys in the wire are a product of their environment and the fact that they have no choice but to join “the game” and participate in the drug trade. But, what about the mothers? Perhaps turning to drugs, and hoping their sons will participate in the drug trade is their only option. Perhaps they are pressured by their husbands to stay dependent. Perhaps the mothers in the wire are merely a product of their environment as well. One could make the argument that it’s just a perpetual circle.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
We can only react to the situations we are placed into; this not only ties in the cycle of poverty and the broken capitalist system of America but also the scandal of cheating in Atlanta schools. When people are in desperate situations they make desperate decisions.
Also, one of the leading causes of divorce is economic hardship— the quality of our lives as determined by our income can determine the quality of our relationships and personal lives as well. Here, impoverished people of varying mental states declined as a direct reaction to the squalor in which they were living. This is also much like the effect incarceration has on prisoners. Professor Williams talked in class about the case of a poor teen who was incarcerated at Reiker’s Island for 14 months while awaiting trial because he couldn’t afford bail. Also, the man who was kept in solitary confinement for two years before his trial was able to plead innocent due to insanity, but no one was sure whether he was initially insane or it was the very nature of his captivity that drove him over the edge.
Simply put, people are not independent from their surroundings and who someone is is closely tied to the situation in which they grew up as well as all of the living situations they have experienced. We are a sum of our experiences and cannot be expected to abide by certain laws that were created in order to govern a people with a completely different living situation. It is as if you are asking kids at recess to behave as if they were in the library—context is everything.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
“We can only react to the situations we are placed into”
Hopefully this is not too far off topic, but when you said this, I thought about Sudhir in “Gang Leader for a Day.” Specifically, when he joins in and helps beat Bee-Bee in the stairwell. His intentions were to remain an objective observer, so where did that action come from?
Perhaps it is safe to say that we don’t just react to the situations we are born into, we also adapt to the situations we find ourselves in? Sudhir had spent so much time in that environment with those people that he started to react the same way the did.
Any thoughts on this?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I think the comments about people having to react to their situations is extremely prevalent in The Wire. The entire concept of “the game” and how the drug business came about is because of the initial situations of the creators of the Barksdale empire and how they figured out how to survive. Being born into a poor neighborhood with poor schools and parents who can’t support their children forces the next generation to try to have a better life for themselves, even if that means living a criminal life. Characters like Wallace and D’Andre exemplify how their situations were going to inevitably get them killed. If one stays in the game they have a high risk of being killed due to drug politics, but on the other hand if they try to leave the game they will be killed because of disloyalty. Trying to leave the game got Wallace and D’Andre killed, but successful members of the gang were eventually killed by rival gang members. This can be seen in the character of Stringer Bell; no matter how intelligent he was at growing a success drug business, the illegitimacy of the business caused rivalry amongst gangs and ultimately got him killed. Characters like Wallace, D’Andre, and Stringer were all reacting to their situations whether it was to join the game or try to leave it. Either way their situation was going to inevitably get them killed, displaying how the drug business in society is responsible for eliminating some of the most intelligent members with potential.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I did a little background research on the Martinique Hotel and it was a pretty nice hotel equipped with “mosaic-tiled lobby floor, a 15th-century clock built by the clockmaker for King James I, and an 18-story marble spiral staircase.” It was also where the PGA was created. Talk about a complete 180. The city decided to put many of its homeless residents here and have failed to maintain it. It’s crazy that a place that once had such a spectacular history, has become filled with garbage and is now falling apart. Here’s the article if you guys want to find out more about the Martinique and how it is being used today: http://traveltips.usatoday.com/history-martinique-hotel-near-times-square-30489.html
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
This made me think of the Abandoned McKittrick Hotel on West 27th Street in NYC. The hotel was previously a luxury hotel but went bankrupt during World War 2. The space was unused for many years and gained a reputation for being creepy and haunted. Recently, developers turned it into a haunted house venue that hosts the show “Sleep no More”, a rendition of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. I saw the play this summer and it was definitely interesting to see how they changed the abandoned hotel into a successful play venue. Follow the link below for pictures and description of the history of the hotel
http://www.scoutingny.com/exploring-new-york’s-abandoned-mckittrick-hotel/
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This is really interesting because it represents the opposite of gentrification, something we hear a lot less about in this class and in the media. Often, it is a neighborhood or a building that is becoming “nicer” and kicking out the minority and lower class residents. It is really interesting that this is such a start contrast to that phenomenon and I would love to do some more research on why this reverse happens. Was the neighborhood a symptom of “white flight?” This all goes to show that societal norms and standards are not static – what is upper class one day can be lower class the next and people are often left playing catch up to a rapidly changing social system.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
Charlotte’s comment is really interesting because she’s so right that this is indeed the opposite of gentrification. I’m inclined to think that when the city moved residents into this hotel, they didn’t realize the “visibility issue” (poor children begging at the theater, etc.) that it would cause. Gentrification is controversial because is marginalizes poor people; literally it removes them from the central area. I think the Martinique was an anomaly, a mistake made by planners who hadn’t learned the valuable political lesson “out of sight out of mind”. When the Martinique was eventually closed, residents were then forced to move into the desperately poor areas on the margins, opening up the city center again for wealthier residents. This trend has continued rapidly in urban areas without most guilty consciences being subordinated to “progress and development”. There is a really interesting parallel to the impact of globalization and capitalism on the developing world. Definitely an interesting lens to look at this story through!
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This is sad and unfortunate paragraph because it represents the harsh reality of many poor women. The guy in this story uses women for sexual pleasure in exchange for literally the bare minimum of what the women needs for her and/or her children. What makes this and situations like this unfortunate, is the fact that this is a reoccurring cycle that will never end because these women never have enough to get over that poverty line. Therefore, they have to continue to submit to corrupted men like that guy Kozol mentions in this piece.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
This might just display my naivete about our criminal justice system, but are there every any follow up consequences or arrests for sexual predators and similar criminals after they are openly discussed in published work such as this ethnography? I completely understand that the author’s safety is a priority and this makes sense when anonymizing names and situations, but this corrupt and power-wielding individual could be named immediately by anyone living in the building it appears. Does the publisher alert the local police when they publish the book?What happens if a cop in that area reads this book for leisure and gets a ‘tip’ from Kozol? Do these books ever directly lead to arrests?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Often times we focus on the black male and his struggles, but this paragraph demonstrates how black females are struggling just as much. The fact that this woman has to degrade herself in order to reach the bare minimum is disheartening, and arguably just as bad or worse than what a black male who is in ‘the game’ has to go through. We spend so much time discussing how the black male is at such a disadvantage, and has to fight his way just to survive, but black women have even more of a struggle to bare. They face the daily struggles of being black (ie stereotypes and prejudice), but not only this, they face the constant battles of what it is like to be a woman living in a male dominated world. I’m not discrediting the struggles of the black man, but I think through reading the paragraph it is important to remember the black woman and her struggles as well. I think too often we put our attention toward a man and his struggle when his female counter part is struggling even more. She has to fight two battles (race and gender) where as the black male only fights one (race). I think it is time to turn our focus toward black women in order to show their struggles, and in turn try to help them get out of the predicament they currently face.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
People like this man and the other guards in the building are the worst type of person. They prey on the weakest because they have no recourse, no workarounds available to them. They are defenseless. It is easy to loathe these predators; they are despicable and cruel, and totally unremarkable. The institutions that created these defenseless women also created an opportunity for others to prey on them, and for that the system is guilty. It sounds cliche to say that the most defenseless need the most protection, but the system that fails to afford these people protection is complicit in the crimes committed against them. If you build a faulty house and trap people in the basement, you’re responsible when the house falls on them.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree completely with Beth’s disdain for this abusive man.
In a community that can hardly afford more negativity or despair, I find his behavior really detrimental to the women especially. Their feelings of self-worth can only plummet, and those feelings will spread outwards into the community.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
It might seem like a stretch, but this anecdote reminded me a bit of Stringer Bell, and how he tells D’Angelo’s girlfriend that he will provide for her and the baby but only after they have sex. Granted this is not a routine thing for him, but it is relevant nonetheless. For Deidre though it seemed like this was somehow part of her ‘wages of womanhood’. In order for her or these women at Martinique to provide for their families, they have to use their bodies to get what they need. This is a result of the culture that they are living in that perpetuates this idea that sex is all a woman is good for. It is a terrible reality, and perhaps teaching women that they are more capable than they think is a good avenue for solving it.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with the comments above and, like Garret, I also thought of Stringer Bell’s relationship with D’Angelo’s girlfriend. Furthermore, it reminded me of a song from 2001 by City High titled “What Would You Do?” The lyrics to the song (some of which i’ll post below) address a situation similar to this especially in the lines “for you this is just a good time but for me this is what i call life.” It really frustrates me that activists and feminists are so quick to attack lyrics of songs for degrading women, yet no one is willing to take a deeper look into why these lyrics were written and the truth that lies behind them. I think politicians and those trying to re-shape this country’s institutions would learn very valuable information by taking recent pop-culture trends and looking at them with a serious eye. From my experience in talking with my parents and just hearing comments from the older generation in general, hip-hop and rap songs are the most easily dismissed form of pop-culture. My dad always says that rap shouldn’t even be considered music. But in so many ways the lyics matter more than the sound or the rhythm. By looking at the lyrics of the most popular artist in Baltimore’s slum, maybe sociologists hoping to reform the area would be able to gleam insight about the ways the drug-dealing and underground social relationships really operate. Artists writing lyrics never seem to shy away from discussing illegal drug usage and raucous activities, so why not look at these lyrics as legitimate, primary sources for how certain factions of society are living?
City High, “What Would You Do?”
What would you do if your son was at home
Crying all alone
On the bedroom floor,
Cause he’s hungry and the only way to feed him is to sleep with a man for a little bit of money?
And his daddy’s gone somewhere smokin’ rock now,
In and out of lock down,
I ain’t got a job now,
So for you this is just a good time
But for me this is what I call life
[2nd verse:]
Girl, you ain’t the only one with a baby,
That’s no excuse to be living all crazy
Then she looked me right square in the eye
And said, “Everyday I wake up hopin’ to die,”
She said, “Nigga, I know about pain
‘cause me and my sister ran away,
So my daddy couldn’t rape us,
Before I was a teenager
I done been through more shit
You can’t even relate to!”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LahcSFleKm8
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This paragraph reminds me of what season 4 of The Wire touched upon, being the foster care system. At the beginning of the season, one of Prez’s female students pulls a knife out on another, and there is a reference about how the foster care system did that to her. Randy has experienced the system in the show, but was lucky enough to be placed with Miss Anna- a stern but caring parents figure for him.
When Miss Anna is burnt in the house fire after people think that Randy snitched, he is thrown back into the system even after Carver’s best efforts to prevent it. Both of these men know what him being back in a boy’s home is going to do to Randy, and very soon after he moves in he is beat up. He knows not to say anything because it will only lead to future beatings, and the system in itself follows a different set of rules.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I, similarly to Carly, recalled scenes from Season 4 of The Wire when reading Kozol’s work. The complete negligence of rules and absence of authority make the foster care system something that children fear, instead of seeing it as a system of protection. The “closed system” that Kozol talks about reappears a lot in the wire with regard to foster houses. While Randy was lucky with his foster situation, not all children have such fortunate experiences. We know, from watching The Wire and from class readings that some foster homes are not that different from life The Martinique. Kids and foster parents stealing from other kids, not having enough food to survive, getting beaten up regularly are all parts of the system for some kids. I found the parallel between the two systems to be scarily similar.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
As I was watching the wire and reading these paragraphs I felt myself starting to get mad. I found myself getting mad at certain institutions and the way they are. I found myself getting mad at how the foster care system in America is set up. I also found myself getting enraged by the police. These systems and institutions that are supposed to help America are in fact hurting America. It is amazing to me that we cannot figure out a system that works; a way to truly help those in need.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This sentence draws an interesting parallel between the drug game in the Wire and the exploitation of poor mothers in Martinique. Both situations appear nearly impossible to escape because authorities are unable to meaningfully affect change. In the Wire, we are repeatedly reminded of how taking down even the biggest drug organization at the time puts bad people away but has no impact on the potency of the drug game. Someone will always take their place because in that closed system, that’s the norm. In Martinique, asking the authorities to intervene harms them and not asking the authorities to intervene harms them. How do closed systems like these form? How can the authorities that keep all other communities in the country at reasonable crime rates fail to make a difference in those systems?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This sentence reminded me of the scenes when Bubs is repeatedly robbed and beaten for a few dollars on the corner by a young kid. Hurk promises to help him but when Bubs is attacked again, Hurk is too busy with more important police work. Because Bubs is a drug addict and living on the streets in homelessness, he is of no importance to the police system unless he is acting as an informant. His information is the only reason police members pay him with respect or protect him. Kyma acts as the exception, giving Bubs money even when not working as an informant.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I was also thinking about a lack of power in a “closed system” but more specifically in terms of the ability to know and assert your rights. There is a lot of police action in The Wire that would not be acceptable in a different context. Officers are completely free to drive up at any time and make people drop to the ground, and there is an incredible amount of police brutality. There is no oversight for the officers who work in these areas, or no oversight that penalizes brutality.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
This relates to the issue of the lack of trust between the police and minority citizens. Often times, in a closed system like this, the law doesnt account for what someone has to do to get by. The only way someone may be able to get food is to steal it, but that does not make it morally wrong. When people feel like their only way of surviving puts them at odds with the police, they are automatically going to lose trust in the system. The cops then too hold the power to decide what charge to file on these people, because odds are they can find something to use. This puts both parties at odds with one another and creates a system of imbalance in which members of this marginalized community are less likely to help the police in a serious situation, such as murder, because they fear for their own fate as well.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I too found the idea of a “closed system” to be particularly relevant to Gang Member for a Day and the idea that gangs are in place to regulate where police cannot. In cases like this, the closed system is the institution itself. It is already in place, and an individual or a family must seek protection under that particular institution in order to survive. For most of us, that institution involves to police and the legal system, but for the people living in the Martinique much like those on the streets of Chicago and those on The Wire, they can only seek protection from the gangs. Plus, Kozol points out that if one does try to bring in an opposing protective institution, i.e. the police, they will more than likely be found guilty of some crime or “petty scam” that they had to commit in order to survive. This serves as another example of how this vicious cycle is perpetuated.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
And it is this lack of trust that leads to the overall negative opinion of the entirety of the police force and the institution behind it. I just heard Vesla Weaver talk on this subject actually and found it extremely pertinent to this topic. She explained how to young African American boys in urban areas, it is the street interactions they have with the police that end up defining what government means to them. Vesla explained how to these certain young boys, government meant police stations, jails and court houses. But it is interesting to consider if this was all the case because of something about their lifestyle and habitual actions that separated them and their views from other Americans. These young kids of the street don’t feel like voluntary citizens but instead like involuntary subjects. It all relates back to this point of a closed system and the growing sense of mistrust within the institution.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
As opposed to Bill O’Reilly’s designation of cultural differences as the root cause of poverty, crime, etc,. Kozol demonstrates that the system is set up to punish those within it. Providing food for one’s children is a fundamental human right, and yet even this is restricted in the Martinique. While Bill O’Reilly and others of his ilk believe that it is a conscious choice to break the law, it is often not a choice but the result of this ‘closed system’ which forces individuals to break the law. I believe this idea can be extended to the drug trade, that in a perfect world no one would choose to sell drugs and live in constant danger of arrest. It is rather the last resort, the result of a system that has consistently alienated certain communities. It may be appealing on the surface (money, prestige), but the drug trade is essentially the same as mothers illegally using hot plates to feed their children. It is how you survive.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I think of Nicky Sobotka when I read this. Because he wasn’t getting the hours at the docks, he turned to the drug trade. With his new-found influx of cash, he bought a new car and was trying to get a new house. These are things that he would not have been able to enjoy with his regular “legal” job. He would still have to live in his parents’ basement…barely making it
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I agree with Mary’s point about the closed system setting individuals to fail. She also said that for some, selling drugs is the last resort, I think in a closed system like people in the Martinique, selling drugs and breaking the law is the only resort. With limited resources and little help from the government, people in poverty-stricken areas like the Martinique have to bend the rules in order to survive.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
My thoughts exactly when reading this section of the article by Kozol. I completely agree with Mary when she discusses " it is often not a choice but the result of this “closed system” which forces individuals to break the law". These boys are brought into an environment where the drug trade is their only way of survival. Breaking the law is almost a norm in this show. There is little to no depiction of “a perfect world” as Mary said. In the Wire, the drug trade is how these boys in the area make a living for themselves and their families. It is this closed system that does not allow these boys to seek a better life outside the drug trade, where they are not always breaking the law.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I completely agree with Mary’s conclusion regarding inevitable failure. In systems like the one in place at The Martinique, people cannot survive or take care of their families without breaking the law in one way or another. I love the comparison she brought up between the drug trade and the hot plates. It is how you survive, and it is survival of the fittest. Those who do not break the law, cannot sustain life and fall victim to death. And there is not always a way out. As we have discussed in class, the worst decision that some of these children made was in choosing their parents. Being born into lives like the drug dealing leave little to no room for escape.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
As I mentioned in a previous comment on this work, many of the themes talked about in this piece made me think about the role of pop-culture in childhood. Although I couldn’t find examples, two very vivid memories I have from watching TV as a child relate to the role of family-life and building strong familial relationships. One memory is of commercials that use to air on “Nick-at-Nite” that showed a happy white family sitting around a table for dinner time and the message that was being delivered was the importance of turning the television off and having real conversations at the dinner table. In comparison to this article, while pop-culture is trying to show the importance of this scheduled family time, in reality, there are laws and barriers preventing the basic activity of dinner time from being a possibility for some families. Regardless of whether or not they have enough food to prepare a meal, these families must cook and eat the food they do have in secrecy, which prevents any possibility of using meal time as a time for communication and forming relationships.
Another jingle I remember is from day-time tv, I think on PBS and in a commercial I believe was sponsored by Hasbro that went: “spend time with your kids, you’ll be glad you did”. This jingle came to mind with the story of Victoria and her family and is also pertinent to many familial situations of the Wire. If mothers are out desperately trying to make end meets, sometimes working 3 different jobs and still not being able to put food on the table, then how could they ever be expected to spend quality time with their children? I’ve started thinking more and more about the role that the American media is having on further creating an ingrained system of segregation – by both race and class. American publicity shows a happy, usually white family, where the traditional family game nights or trip to the movies are still happening and still central to social life. But in reality, only a fraction of Americans are actually acting out this publicized charade. Why is it that the media seems to always be showing propaganda rather than showing reality?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Since these children at the Martinique were exposed to the goings-on at such a young age, it is difficult to imagine them growing up with the values of middle-class citizens—respect for authority, belief in free upward mobility, strong family bonds with two parents and 2.5 kids, etc. When these children go to school, often they are suddenly thrust into a world with extremely different expectations of them, and many find it difficult to cope. This leads to acting out, skipping school, and just not having the will or energy to try. While most were not homeless, the kids in The Wire were presented with similar issues as they lived below the poverty line with family members heavily involved in the drug trade, most already indoctrinated themselves. To them, the chaotic situation outside of school, homework, and teachers is much more important, and classes merely an interruption. Often they have no choice.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
This comment made me question whether it’d be better to be a kid from the Wire or a kid from Martinique. I found myself thinking that at least the kids from the Wire had hope to become something even if it was to be higher up in the drug trade. Classes also felt like an interruption to them, but as seen by Wallace’s younger sister, they could regardless have the drive to learn in order to advance in an area that they see as worthwhile. They don’t have respect for official authorities, but they often respect the authority of those high up in the game. They have unconventional middle class values. Is some commitment to middle class values what we want to judge our kids’ outcomes on?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
When reading paragraphs 34-37 I immediately thought of Michael in season 4 and the complicated relationship he has to his family, particularly his mother, and therefore by default Bug’s father. The questions Jonathan Kozol asks in these paragraphs are crucial and relate to the wire perfectly. Kozol says, “children, of course, observed the humiliation of their mothers.” Michael observes the humiliation of his mother and the uselessness of Bug’s father. I strongly believe that Michael joins the Stanfield Organization because of these two figures. Michael feels resentment and anger and has no where else to turn.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I totally agree with the fact that this is representative of Michael’s situation in The Wire. I also think that though he was angered by the two figures, watching them be humiliated right before his eyes diminished any respect he may have had for them. I think that has a lot to do with why the kids join drug organizations such as Marlo’s. Marlo represented a figure in which Michael respected, and inspired him, since his mother did not. Without a strong parent in the picture, I feel like kids will turn to these organizations because they are lead by powerful figures who demand respect.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I completely agree with Campbell’s comment about how Michael observes the humiliation of his mother in season 4. Constantly, Michael is reminded of his mothers drug use and feels as if his parents are somewhat useless. Therefore, he decides it is his responsibility to take care of his little brother on his own without any help, even his father. I feel as if Michael has realized that it is now his responsibility to care for his little brother because he does not trust/respect his parents to do so. I think the parents lack of responsiblity definitely is part of the reason that some of these boys have turned to getting involved in the drug trade. They may think that this is a their way of survival/support for themselves because they did not get that from their own parents. So it is definitely interesting to think about some of these questions that Kozol brings up at the end of this paragraph.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Campbell’s comments and these paragraphs really got me thinking about Michael and his family. Michael is clearly a product of his environment and is forced to join the game in order to take care of bug and his mother. He has no other way to provide for his family and absorb some of his mothers humiliation. However, the question of whether or not he “resents” his mother for this life is quite unclear to me. It is clear in the beginning of season 4 that Michael really doesn’t want to be a soldier but then he comes to embrace the life of a soldier. I think maybe in the end he just realized he loved and wanted to care for his family more than he resented the life he was born into.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
All of the comments above remind me of the theme of family that is so present in The Wire. From the start, Avon is constantly preaching to D’Angelo and everyone else about the importance of family. He and Stringer even talk about the concept of family, although they are not biologically related. I think that traumatizing family situations like that of Michael in Season 4 often push kids to join gangs because it is another way of creating a family-like support structure. I believe that all humans on a deeper level crave that kind of familial connection and support from others, and many of those core elements like brotherhood and loyalty can be found in the gang system.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Very good point about Michael. At the beginning he was clearly the most “relaxed” or anti drug dealing, but by the end he was the leader of the pack. Yet the exact same happened to Namond. You could argue that both had pretty destructive parents – though I would say Michael’s were worse. But they went different paths. Michael to the streets, and Namond off them. I think their cross over relies not only on their mothers, but rather the lack of proper mentoring they received. Blaming it on the mother seems like blaming it on bad parenting, but I think the conditions like Michael trying to take care of his younger brother, and not really being able to trust anyone since his own incident is what really forced him to the streets.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
The point about trusting educators is pretty interesting. Through the course of Season 4, we watch the neighborhood boys get closer to Prez after he establishes that he is someone who can be trusted. However, in the end, Michael, Randy and Dukie still end up stuck in “the game”. Does that mean that they never truly placed any faith in Prez?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I think the point Tara raises here is compelling, as in The Wire, the boys ended up in the game despite the faith that Prez had in them. Yet, I don’t necessarily think that they never placed any faith in him. I think that their distrust in all authoritative figures, whether that is a landlord or a family member, has shaped their skepticism towards adults. As we’ve seen, a good family upbringing helps keep kids out of trouble, but is not definite. It would be interesting to see what would happen if a middle class child with a good upbringing were to attend schools in areas similar to Martinique or Baltimore, and if they could succeed.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I don’t think it means they never truly placed any faith in Prez, I just think that the game is so big and such a difficult thing to fight against for a young boy that Prez barely stood a chance against it. I believe they trusted him, but the lure of the game is too strong to fight alone which is what Prez was attempting to do. In order for the boys to go the desire route that Prez wanted, he needs to have an army with him. The game is a well developed and well oiled machine, it naturally gets people to join it whether it is for survival reasons or power reasons, and for this the game can’t be taken down alone. Thus, I posit that the boys did truly place trust in Prez, but realistically Prez isn’t enough.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I had already begun to see references that were eerily similar to language used to discuss eugenics. In an earlier paragraph, the term “ultimate solution” was used to describe removal of the homeless from midtown Manhattan. In this paragraph, a social worker makes a direct reference to the Holocaust which Kozol does not find to be an exaggeration. I think it is interesting that we are outraged to hear about the upheaval of poor neighborhoods in the context of countries “cleaning up” for the Olympics or world cup, but less acknowledgement when that happens in our own cities. Even Colvin’s premise for Hamsterdam raises ethical questions, but I feel that issue was framed for the audience to see it as coming from the right place.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I think this is one of the major problems with public housing in general (even though this is a run down hotel). This is because you cannot have a healthy social system if you put all of your impoverished people in one place. This resembles the towers in The Wire, and similarly why they were torn down
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
It is so interesting that the Martinique manager carried a pistol with it. I see it as a symbol of the different world existing inside the hotel, complete with a different set of rules—much like the “game.” It is unthinkable that a typical apartment manager in Charlottesville would ever carry a weapon, and yet in this context it is fathomable, if not understandable. The Martinique is its own world, guarded by corrupt men and governed by an arbitrary set of laws. This is the authority figure children grow up seeing, violent and taking advantage of the tenets. This abuse of power will inevitably lead to the tenet’s mistrust of power and the law, because neither protected them from the violence they encountered.
I question whether children who grow up in such environments have much of a chance of becoming law-abiding citizens. Most kids are given a civic education by their parents, school, and community, experiencing first hand the benefits of the law. Yet for kids in places like the Martinique, this education does not exist, and there are few incentives to follow the rules of a system which has failed them.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This illustrates the shocking reality of government affordable housing policies. While there is little political support for welfare benefits that give money directly to poor people, the government provides major incentives to developers and other property owners to create affordable housing. In this case, the government paid, $20,000 per family each year. Clearly, $20,000 for a family per year could buy much better housing than what we being provided to these families. Providing low-income housing has become big business for people looking to profit off of people’s poverty and despair.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
Zack highlights an inequality that might be even tougher to remedy than the overt denial of opportunity and equality in the Jim Crow era. The mechanism of Big Business excretes a segregation and degradation of urbanites that is chalked up as mere “casualties” of capitalism. After all, these companies aren’t directly injecting the areas with crime, poverty, and malnourishment through racist legislation; who is to blame? Profit off the vicious cycle of project housing and demolition is an appendage of a faceless enemy that runs off the fumes of America’s racist past, but it shrouds itself in the amoral veil of economics that prides itself in claiming to create only winners and losers, not heroes and villains.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
It seems to me that these managers of the Martinique are the real gangsters in this scenario. These acts of violence, the demanding of money, the use of guns as intimidation all remind me of a violent gangster on the street. These tactics would never be allowed in a government organization that was being properly run, which is obviously why they wanted to keep the journalists out. I find it alarming though that they hurt the journalists, because if there is anything you don’t want to do, it is to assault a journalist because they will publish that crime immediately. This all goes to show that these guards are so used to using fear as a way to control their tenants that they have come to know no other way of getting what they want.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Kozol’s story on the Martinique Hotel and poverty in New York in general made me think of a documentary I recently watched called Park Avenue. Park Avenue is a name that rings a bell in all of our heads as a glamorous, busy street that runs through the upper east side of New York City. However, if you drive 10 minutes north on this street, you’ll find yourself in one of the poorest congressional districts in America. New York City, and Park Avenue specifically, is an absolutely staggering and concrete example of the wealth divide in the United States. We have certainly talked about weath divides in class, but this documentary really helped me see how truly dramatic they are. 740 Park Avenue is the most expensive apartment building in New York city and home to the highest number of billionare tenants, yet in South Bronx unemployment is at 19% and 50% of the people that live there need food stamps. Although the homeless in New York City are no longer housed in what were once luxury midtown hotels, the irony is very much still present, and it seems that the poverty situation and divides have only worsened.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
As a tourist, whenever I’m visiting New York City, I stay in highly developed areas with barely any visible poverty like midtown or downtown. However, my brother lives in Bushwick Brooklyn, an up-and-coming area where lots of artists have moved to escape the growing commercialism and rising rents of Williamsburg. He is one of the many upper middle class persons moving into the neighborhood, apart of the “gentrification” of Brooklyn.
When residents were removed from the Martinique Hotel and relocated to the Bronx, it was a result of such gentrification, a result of tourists like me. Does this mean I am apart of the game?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Having taken several public health classes here, it’s fascinating but so sad to read about the health disparities in impoverished neighborhoods. So many of these health problems could be avoided with routine medical check-ups, yet access to health-care is completely lacking here. The statement draws many comparisons to the kind of health conditions seen in third-world countries. It’s quite amazing how a city such as New York can have the most innovative and superior medical centers, yet have such diseased communities in its own backyard. There are just so many terrible things going for these individuals that it’s hard to pin-point where to help first: health-care, schools, homes, jobs? Where do you even begin? The Wire doesn’t really go too deep into the health problems associated with poor communities, but that would definitely have been an interesting issue to focus on.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This paragraph of run down hospitals – really brought up a point Professor Williams during class. That schools like MLK or Rosa Parks High School are doing so bad in terms of education, that Plessy Vs Ferguson has not been held true. Not only are schools separated, they are no equal. Funding is not equal, quality is not equal. This quote, “in the absoluteness of their racial isolation, resembled those of Mississippi fifty or one hundred years before” … is exact the point Professor Williams made.
The fact that in a public hospital, such care is so poor that babies are dying is incredibly disheartening. It shows that the “culture of the streets” is not simply the schools and the home – but everywhere in that area. Everywhere, from the stores to the parks (think season 1 drug dealing) – the influence of and the danger of the street has reached.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Vicky’s experience with homeless shelter hopping seems representative of the homeless/desperately poor experience. She loses the stability and alertness she needs to keep hold of if her family is to find their footing. The idea of a “short-term shelter” fails when it becomes a poverty carousel where, with each stop, the people it tries to help lose their capacity for “god clear-headed thinking”. The system in place for homeless people needs to take more seriously long-term implications. Longer-term shelters that provide stability, health and employment resources and counselors, might be more expensive but would better help promote sustainable economic recovery among homeless people.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I feel like by being able to establish yourself permanently in one location, a person is able to better establish their identity. Unclear of where you fit and feeling like you don’t have a place in society would leave a “short-term shelter” resident feeling as if their existence mattered little to the community as a whole. By creating longer-term shelters and a community of support, homeless members of a community will feel like they have more of a purpose and might even begin to fill a roll that is more economically beneficial for the community as a whole. Not losing sight of the humanistic considerations can lead to more positive economic conditions.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
My grandmother was a New York City school teacher for over 20 years, many of these years were spent working with underprivileged and troubled kids. She mentioned that they would often bring weapons like knives and brass knuckles to school and she would have to confiscate them. They would often talk back and threaten her when their weapons were taken away, but she presumed it was mostly to gain the attention of the other kids and gain some sort of respect among them. She said they would also bring drugs into school. She didn’t know if they were using the drugs, selling the drugs, or just carrying drugs around as a toy or token to get respect among peers. She said a lot of their tempers were caused by family issues at home and they would often bring problems experienced on their streets into class and act out because of it.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
My mother has been a teacher in Richmond City Schools and has seen a kid nearly stab someone in the middle of the hallway. The drugs being cooked and brought into the bedroom, or in the Wire season one where they’re all cooking and assembling the drug in the kitchen, invades and brings the effects of the drug into the most personal spaces of the home, which then makes these events, like fires four or five times a week, a part of the reality within these communities. It becomes part of what these kids grow up with and how they build their ideologies of the world.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree. I’m from Richmond and actually helped tutor/mentor younger children in the City of Richmond school system. Everyday, you would have to go through a metal detector before you could enter the hallways. Keep in mind this was a middle school. This particular school had at least 5 police officers in the school at all times. But it wasn’t for nothing. On multiple occasions the officers caught students with knives, drugs, and even a gun. I couldn’t believe what many of these kids were carrying and they couldn’t even drive a car yet.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I like the point Matt brings up at the end about his grandmother’s confusion over WHY the students brought what they did to school. This seems like it is something that would happen at the school whose NPR “This American Life” piece was focused on, but where the female administrator’s positive attitude affected people. The “Ohhhh I LOVE that shirt, too bad you can’t wear it!” technique was brilliant, probably getting students to trust them, abide by their rules, and stop seeing which ones they could skate by.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I wonder how much these schools are paying to incorporate these metal detectors and other means of protection. I feel like these tools and such can be used for my productive purposes that don’t insist or make it seem like these children and that teachers and other faculty are entering a war zone everyday. I feel that these metal detectors and such are sending off the wrong message.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
While reading through these comments I had the same reaction as Cameron. The detectors themselves in way set the stage of reality and normalcy within the school. The fact that metal detectors are present at the school and the fact that children register their presence from the moment they start school, creates an ideology that most kids bring things to school to set metal detectors off, that such an action is commonplace or else their wouldn’t be metal detectors to begin with. The metal detectors therefore do not represent a solution to the problem because they do not treat the root causes of WHY weapons are ever brought to school. Instead, they attempt to treat the symptoms of already formed WEAPON PRESENCE in school, and in doing so they contribute to and reiterate to the notion that such practices of weapon carrying is normal not only on the streets, but at school. On the flipside, however, it is hard to argue to take away such detectors for fear that because a presedence has already been set, taking away a main form of protection at this point would lead to more, not less, weapon infringements at school.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
When Kozel introduces Vicky’s kids, Lisette and Eric, he says that Eric the eleven year old suffered more than his little sister. I thought about in The Wire season 4, when the psychologist wants to study and interview high school boys because he thinks that is when they enter a transitional phase which will determine whether they become corner boys or take a “decent” life path. Bunny just laughs at him because he knows that this transitional phase begins far earlier than high school. Before Eric was even a teenager, he had lived in a number of homeless shelters, and then in the Bronx. By the time Eric got to Montana he had been acclimated to the street culture. He was still young when he moved to Montana, but he behind in his education, and he was not used to the Montana life style. He ends up falling in with a bad crowd, dropping out of high school because his grades were too low, getting his girl friend pregnant and eventually committing suicide. His sister on the other hand settled into Montana well. It is sad to think that if Eric had moved to Montana at a younger age his future may have been different. This story also shows how important it is for a young child to have a stable life something The Wire does a good job depicting. This story also shows how the poverty problem cannot be solved simply.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree that if Eric had moved to Montana at a younger age, his future would have been different. However, I would go even further to say that if Eric had been younger when he was living in homeless shelters, his life would be very different. Growing up in poor, dangerous neighborhoods definitely affected Eric, but for Lisette, it did not hinder her permanently. I believe the true difference between Lisette and Eric’s upbringing was not the age at which they moved to Montana, but the age at which they moved out of the Martinique. Living in such inhumane conditions scarred Eric in a way he could never recover from. I believe if Eric had spent less time in the Martinique, he would have maintained some degree of stability in his life, and his life would have gone very differently.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
The Wire briefly touches upon athletics as a way to escape the realities of the game in season three with Cutty and his gym. There’s the tragic story of Ben Wilson who was touted as the number one recruit in the country from Chicago, growing up in Chicago’s south side. In 1984, during his senior year of high school, Ben gets shot after a disagreement and dies.Then there’s the story of Len Bias, who was the second pick of the 1986 NBA draft, only to die a few days later from a drug overdose. These men were both from these at-risk areas (Chicago and Southern Maryland) and weren’t in “the game”, but like with Justin in the Wire who returned to selling drugs and left the gym, the game seems to effect everyone.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I think this is an interesting idea as the boxing classes for the kids in The Wire worked to keep them out of the streets, at least for some time, and sparked community involvement. I wonder what makes sports an effective outlet—could it be the team mentality that is immediately applicable to the life the children have in the drug trade? Their interest in Cutty’s boxing classes grew out of a desire to learn to fight better. While it does appear to be an escape, the question is for how long. In the capacity of some classes at the gym or a baseball game among inmates, sports does not typically lead to what is needed most to escape the drug trade: job opportunities. The reason the kids are born into and learn to work in the drug market and the reason Cutty returns is due to a lack of options to support themselves. Unless they happen to be selected for the NBA, it seems like a temporary solution.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
Suzanne wrote, “Sports does not typically lead to what is needed most to escape the drug trade: job opportunities.”
We see an example of this in The Wire. Avon Barksdale was a very talented and successful boxer, but, despite his abilities, he couldn’t “escape” the drug trade that he was “born into”. Financially his circumstances certainly improved, but he still operates within the Drug Trade institution. Nobody can escape the game, and neither did Avon, regardless of his ability or potential in the boxing ring. He just became a bigger piece on the chess board.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I agree that sports in the Wire and elsewhere may provide a great distraction, but unless they are some stellar athlete, it is only a temporary solution. Cutty’s boxing gym provided a safe space for kids to get off the street, but as Suzanne mentioned, many of those kids such as Namond and at one point Dukie used the ring to prepare themselves for the Game. Unless you have incredible outside resources, I find it hard to see an escape route from the Game, and being athletic and learning these skills can only “better” prepare a kid for the life that he will lead.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
Even though the kids are unlikely to make it anywhere playing sports, I still see sports as a huge positive point in many youths’ lives. Every hour spent in a gym or outside practicing is another hour away from the drug-trade. Even if sports aren’t necessarily practical in developing skills for the real-world, if they help kids avoid working corners with their free time, then they also decrease the number of arrests. We’ve talked in class extensively about how detrimental a felony arrest can be when applying for jobs. If these kids manage to stay focused on anything outside of drug-dealing, then they have a good shot at having a clean record by the time they want to enter the workforce. Obviously that doesn’t solve the incentives that might later push someone toward selling drugs, but it definitely puts them in a better position to find legal work later on.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with Sara, and am reminded of the film Coach Carter, one of my absolute favorites. Int he film, Coach Carter takes kids in an inner city school and leads them not to a state championship, but rather brings them together as a team. At the end of the film, the kids don’t end up going to DI programs and the NBA, but they learn work ethic, study skills, and the value of teamwork. But like the principle from Harper High, the best thing that Coach Carter gives them is showing that he cares. They don’t play in the NBA, but many of them become better people and at least escape the projects.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
The benefits of time spent ‘out of the game’ while practicing for a sport are immeasurable. It imbues a level of dedication and work ethic as Sara mentions. But what strikes me about sports is just their simplicity: the goal is to win. It’s so rare in life (especially in impoverished areas) to have such a clearly defined goal without other considerations or nuances. A mother spending extra time working a third job has to lose the chance to spend time with her kids and make sure they are doing their schoolwork. It’s a complicated situation. And all interactions from gang intiations to standing on corners and selling drugs have layers and layers of motivation and consequence. The beauty of sports is that it doesn’t have this. The goal is to win. It’s simple, relatable, and can be addicting. Developing life skills along the way is great, but just playing sports provides a mental reprieve for young men and women from the constant back-and-forth of external motivations.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This sentence brings such meaning to Eric’s character. Eric’s “self-protective” way he would speak to those older than him reminds me of Anderson’s Code of Street and how these kids value so highly their self-image, especially in the street. Their self-image is based on “juice” or the presentation of self. They have to make sure they aren’t vulnerable at any point in time. For Eric this rings true as well as he must protect himself and those who are also involved with him.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
‘Self-protective’ can be applied to many of the students in season four of The Wire, especially for Randy. He tries his best not to be perceived as a snitch as a self-preservation tactic, but is ultimately unsuccessful at separating himself fully from the implications of his involvement with the police.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
It is interesting to see how kids really do have so much value in their self image when it comes to the game. As Cameron said the self image is based on “juice”. It’s interesting to think how teachers would die for kids to put half the effort into themselves as they do on the streets, but how the kids don’t believe in themselves. It’s sad to think how kids can believe in themselves when it comes to a game that can take their lives, but not in something that can possibly save it. It also just demonstrates how strong the game can be in terms of ‘recruitment’. Despite the fact this game is deadly and takes lives daily, kids still believe in themselves and try their best to stand strong amongst the crowd despite the deadly odds against them.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
The reason kids are so much more drawn to the game than to school is all about the support behind them, the examples of adults they are provided with, and the balance of the two. Why would the kids believe in themselves academically if the system doesn’t believe in or support them? They can see that their books are falling apart etc. and they can sense that they are in school more so to keep them out of trouble than because they are expected to shine. Furthermore, because of the cycle, they have very few to no examples of adults who succeeded via school. If success comes in the form of power, money, and respect, school is understandably not the avenue they are willing to take a chance on. They can’t see the perspective that school could save their lives because, where they come from, you’re exposed to the violence whether you’re involved or not. So really if protection is your concern, you would try to associate with the most violent of them all so people fear attempting to hurt you.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This relates to the brief discussion in class of solutions to the problems presented in The Wire. As an academic and educator, Kozol is perhaps best equipped to provide answers to Vicky concerning the state of the public education system. However, he acknowledges that there are no simple solutions, not even "talkative solutions. His states that “walking around without a destination sometimes leaves an open space.” I believe The Wire is ground breaking because it does just that: it ‘walks around’ these open spaces. It does not reach for solutions or academic explanations but rather presents the situation (of the drug trade, education, the justice system) as a whole and allows the viewer to digest this. David Simon’s aversion towards academia may stem from Kozol’s observation-academics enjoy talking, hypothesizing and formulating solutions rather than simply absorbing the entirety of the ‘problem’ and listening to the individuals affected by it. Solutions cannot simply be prescribed until the problems are understood.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I’ve noticed that in all of this talking, it seems to exacerbate a feeling of helplessness in me. This is why I am sympathetic of David Simon’s aversion towards academia. I agree Mary that it’s important to talk and make sure that any solutions that might be implemented won’t exacerbate problems and will actually help, but I think it does carry the risk of discouraging those trying to implement solutions.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with what Mary and Win said. The Wire is great for showing how there are no easy solutions, but it also makes us feel helpless to do anything about it. One counterexample to this though was Hamsterdam, which I thought was a great storyline in the show if only for the fact that it suggests that we do some experimental thinking. Bunny Colvin’s Hamsterdam and later his educational experiment are undoubtedly unconventional and dystopian, yet they are also realistic and effective. I think that part of the reason that these problems keep on getting perpetuated is because the limitations of bureaucracy and the unwillingness to experiment with alternate solutions. We need innovation in policy and in NGO’s to start finding solutions for the problems that are untraditional, because clearly the status quo in resolution strategy is not working.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Often the issues of domestic abuse and poverty are addressed separately, especially in today’s culture. With the ever-present issue of domestic abuse in the NFL it is common to frame domestic abuse in the context of aggressive football players, because that somehow makes sense. Football players are taught to be abusive through the game, and so domestic abuse makes sense with these men. What’s not commonly thought about are the struggles that poor folk go through that makes domestic abuse all the more common. These people don’t have the publicity and money to leave their significant others like NFL wives do. Especially in the case of Vicky, she didn’t have the kind of money to move to another location to get away from him, or hire a lawyer to file a restraining order against him. Domestic abuse is something that people in poverty just accept as another thing that makes their lives miserable, and this is incredibly heartbreaking.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
Stephanie, I wholeheartedly agree with your comments. We hear about the NFL cases because it seems isolated, logical, and for some misinformed people “more understandable” that aggressive behavior would be associated with aggressive athletes. However, the story of lower income, everyday women facing this tragedy is even more devastating due to the fact that their options to escape the situation are less available and that their story will probably be one we never hear about. Similarly to incarceration, domestic violence begins to be an issue that is desensitized when speaking about lower class populations. This desensitization as a society toward serious mistreatments of a segment of the population is almost like saying we do not value their physical and emotional wellbeing as much as we value that of a “more important” population segment.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This paragraph really stuck out to me because it embodies everything we have talked about in class concerning society and the Wire. Although Lisette did a fantastic job on a paper, her mother knows that it is going to take more than that to survive in their world. In an upper class or even middle class school, a student would the resources to maintain their grades while getting support from the administration and community, but in other situations that is just not the case. The statistics that we have viewed in class really shed light on this issue and made it clear to see that grades, especially in school’s like Lisette’s, reveal very little about one’s upward mobility.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with Ruth’s reading of this section. Upward mobility is rarely achieved for these kids through good grades in school. Often even if the school offers these kids resources they are not enough to really change the future for many of these kids. Namond’s mobility was really only achieved because someone cared enough to go into his environment and work to take him out of it not because he was doing better in school.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree. Lisette requires more than just good grades to move upwards. She needs to be able to gain other resources to make the connections to progress in her life. Her story echoes the idea explored in the documentary ‘Harvest of Shame’. Many of the young bright kids in the documentary have essentially sealed their fates by being born into a specific environment.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I agree that school itself cannot be the catalyst of upward mobility—propelling someone to a promising future and better circumstances. After openly acknowledging this hard truth, Vicky goes on to say in the next paragraph that even with the concept of Lisette bettering herself through school seeming grim, she is indeed happy. Her daughter is upstairs. She is safe. There is food on the table. It just shows how powerful cyclical generational poverty is—sucking in all who are born into it. IT is impossible to focus on upward mobility and the bootstrap mentality when you are struggling just to meet the daily needs of your family providing them with safety, a roof over their head and food to eat.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
The congregation at Dr. William’s church reaching out to offer a “better chance in life” made me think about a conversation I had with a high school friend a while back. This person raised the point to me that so many churches and other philanthropies here in the United States reach out to help people in other countries, especially those in Africa. She brought up one of our other friends that started an organization in high school known as EACEF, or the East African Children’s Education Fund. I was on the board of EACEF my senior year, and thought it was an incredible organization that helped build schools in Kenya and Tanzania. My friend, however, had just watched “Waiting for Superman,” a documentary about how dire the education system is here in America. Although she did not outright oppose EACEF, she did take issue with the fact that the organization was putting so much towards helping children in Africa, when there is so much to be done for the children just a few miles down the road from our Atlanta high school. This conversation really started to make me re-evaluate the emphasis on poverty and aid to countries outside of our own. I am certainly not degrading or disagreeing with any sort of organization or aid that churches or other groups channel to countries in Africa or other third-world countries. However, ever since that conversation, I can’t help but feel like the issues of poverty, and specifically extremely dire education, are issues that are stateside and very local to us, and ones that may not occur to everyone as similar to and just as dire as those in other countries.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with Mary on her point about a somewhat-disguised need that exists here in America even though our focus tends to lay outside the country’s borders when there is a lot than be fixed domestically. That being said, I think the church was a bit misguided in their efforts to move the family to Montana. At the end of the passage, one line really stuck with me: “But I overestimated the potential of a different place and different opportunities to overcome what I had hoped they’d left behind.”
This shows to me how The Wire could almost be seen as a bit unrealistic with how Namond’s life changed so quickly. Yes, he did remain in Baltimore, with an ex-policer officer of all people, but how exactly could somebody who is the son of a big-time gang member face no repercussions? Namond, as we all know, was not cut out for the game in the first place, but there’s not enough Bunny Colvins and Montana Churches to help the problem in real life.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I agree with Mary Zack that aid to foreign countries is conflicting.
On the topic of aid in underdeveloped countries, white American attitudes can be very paternalistic, which is troubling and create a dependent culture. My friend who has spent much time working in orphanages abroad is very critical of the way that many American and European organizations try to help. They build buildings and infrastructure and bring food and supplies that make sense to Western nations when the indigenous people do not have a direct need or understand a need for these things.
Without education or the instruction in certain skill sets the quality of life in these communities remains unchanged.
Here, Dr. Edward’s church at first made me think they were being very paternalistic. However, the treatment and cultivation of the lives of Vicky and Lisette are heartening. Lisette manages to benefit from the care of the community in Montana, but I wonder if Eric and Vicky’s experience did more harm than good to themselves and the community into which they were transplanted.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I’m really glad that Kozol brought up this point about how although race is a dividing issue, certain racial divides and differences have taken such hold in American cultures that trying to break them down or render them void will not come across as good-natured, but instead “invasive and paternalistic.” I feel that this adds another extremely complicated dimension the issue of race in our country— on the one hand, people want to minimize it as an issue and have their be more voluntary integration. On the other hand, it is an extremely sensitive undertaking that has been handled the wrong way so many times that it now faces a very high risk of coming across the wrong way.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I totally agree and I want to say that I like this phrase of “an intimidating rhetoric of cultural defensiveness.” Race colors so much of the issues surrounding the issues of poverty and the possible solutions. If an all-white government tries to implement solutions to poverty in an all-black neighborhood, there will naturally be a healthy amount of distrust. This relates back to the “intimidating rhetoric.” We can’t talk about solutions without addressing this.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with you Winthrop. We can’t talk about solutions without addressing these issues. Race is certainly a hard topic to discuss but not discussing it, even more belittles the conversation. I think our government and our policy makers are keen to ‘quick fixes’ and not actually hearing the concerns of these underdeveloped communities. Trust comes from an understanding and when these underserved communities feel that an understanding is lacking, of course there will be distrust.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I think someone asked in an earlier comment if The Wire can inspire social activism to confront some of the issues that it addresses. I think the answer is complicated by the issue of distrust that Kozol raises and that you have referenced. I think there needs to be more emphasis on the opportunities for those inside the system to enact change. There are incredibly motivated people who live in the community and have more legitimacy than some scholar who comes in thinking that he or she has all the answers. The Orange Dot project in Charlottesville is a nice example of using preexisting neighborhood networks to try to fight poverty.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
It is interesting to note the use of the term “invasive,” paired with the concept of cultural defensiveness. THis implies a desire to not only help the problem but do it from within. This type of cultural defensiveness is also sometimes cultural isolationism. I agree with Win that this is a barrier to solutions, but I think it can also be a benefit if it is utilized correctly. If we use these desires to promote from within a desire for change, we can exact true good. At the same time, this leads to paternalistic thoughts. A true catch 22 if there has ever been one.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Kozol’s idea here reminded me of the discussion we had in lecture about “white flight” from neighborhoods in the 20th century. Just as whites left these neighborhoods to decay, which increased crime and violence, the same is similar with the “ghettoized” community described here. When people decide to leave because they think they’ll have a better life elsewhere, these communities deteriorate even further. It sends signals out to the rest of the community that it is an undesirable location and therefore harbors crime, gangs, and violence. I think by having people leave these areas, it only deepens the issues at hand.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I completely agree that when people leave upcoming “ghettoized” neighborhoods in only deepens the issue, but I have a hard time thinking of a solution for this. Thinking of it from the point of view of a family with children and enough resources to go somewhere else, I can’t blame them. I’m not talking about “white flight” in that white families don’t want to live in “black neighborhoods,” I’m just pointing out that it’s hard to blame any family for leaving an area that is becoming more and more unsafe, especially when there are children involved. So who provides the solution? I’m not completely educated in politics and government, but I think it comes down to the responsibility of the state and city to keep neighborhoods good for the citizens, and that may start with providing more aid to low income families.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This has become a major issue in community development – should we invest in people by developing human capital or should we invest in place to make neighborhoods vibrant and provide the services that all people need. While certainly we need a combination of both, there is a lingering tension. If people are able to, they would often rather leave a horrible neighborhood rather than staying to help develop it. This is great or those lucky enough to leave; however, what implications does this have for the people who remain?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I found Victoria’s answer “Not yet.” really chilling when I read it the first time. Before learning about the fate of Victoria and her children, it seemed pessimistic. Now, after having read the whole chapter, it seems prophetic of the fates of many similar families. Despair, defeatism, and a sense of hopelessness permeates through inner-city families and whole communities. I’m reminded of discussions we’ve had in class about what can we do, and I think it’s worth asking again here.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
As a religious studies major, this aspect of life in the inner city is fascinating to me. The idea that the church is just referred to as a blanket “Christian” indicates to me the nature with which religion permeates the inner city. It is seen as a subtle force, constantly running underneath life, but yet never drawn to close. As we see in the Wire, the games stops on sunday mornings for church, and many of the people believe in spirituality, but it is more cultural. Religion gets in the way of the Game, and the Game comes first.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
For the most part religion in The Wire is just important for the sense of community that is provided by the churches. Like Will said, they have the Sunday truce and the pastors seem to have political influence over their congregations. But on a deeper level, I wonder how people living in this level of poverty actually view god. If they do, how do they come to terms with the realities of their upbringings? Do they think God is punishing them? Do they think that by praising Jesus they can be saved? Do they fear hell? When aid is given to them in the name of God or Jesus, does that influence their spirituality? My suspicion is that many people living in poverty feel that they have a close relationship with God, yet I can’t even begin to understand how.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
As Dr. Edwards points out, Eric somewhat fulfills and thus reinforces a racial stereotype here. How do we as humans avoid stereotyping people? Do you have to educate people to be empathetic and take each story on a case-by-case basis?
Also, here I would like to point out Dr. Edwards’ invoking of the poor white/poor black tension that we talked about in class. In particular, the way both the trucker and Eric are stereotyped as Edwards says he’s surprised the trucker hadn’t “popped him.” This implies a stereotype of all people of a certain class to turn to violence as a means of dealing with a problem. Not only are young black men subjected to stereotypes, then, but so are blue collar white men. Stereotypes affect everyone but they do definitely affect some types of people more negatively.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
In my opinion, stereotypes are byproducts of the human need to classify and organize things and people by patterns that seem to repeat over time. This type of knowledge can be seen as advantageous for future opportunities as well as future confrontations. As long as people are able to remember past events and look forward to future ones, stereotypes are forever. For example, the stereotype as firefighters as selfless and devoted to their community establishes the sense of trust that powers the instinct to call these civil servants in case of emergency. The goal rather is to cut out misinformed stereotypes created and fueled by fear and/or hatred. These are the most dangerous and these are the ones that impede people from opportunities and equalities.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I agree with Buck on the fact that stereotypes will never be erased from society. Whether its the stereotype that African American men are dangerous, or the stereotype that rich white girls wear certain brands of clothes, there are stereotypes all around us. The issue is that some stereotypes are more detrimental to society than others. It doesn’t affect the lives of rich white girls to have other people think of them as people who wear Barbour jackets and spend ridiculous amounts of money at Starbucks. However, the stereotypes of African American males can be detrimental to their lives. In class we’ve discussed that when applying to college one has to put whether or not they’ve been arrested for a felony. If an extremely intelligent and respectable African American male student is in the wrong place at the wrong time, he can be accused of a crime he didn’t commit because of stereotyping. This students’ professional future is ruined because of a stereotype that caused him to be accused of a crime he didn’t commit, and consequently having to admit that he had been arrested, and not even convicted. People of all sexes and races commit crimes everyday, so why can’t society get over the stereotype of a dangerous African American male? In light of recent events in Charlottesville, this stereotype is furthered and there is nothing that anyone can do about it. Jesse Matthews is an African American male who is being seen as the one who killed a young, white girl and this does terrible things for stereotyping in our community. It is extremely important that people in our community take steps to see the crime from a neutral standpoint, that it could have been anyone from any race that committed the crime that Jesse Matthews committed.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This statement provides an excellent synopsis for the second half of this article. Having been through some of the worst conditions imaginable, Vicky and her family were finally able to escape. Instead of living on social welfare, Vicky was able to find a job in Montana and provide a substantial education for her children. However, regardless of the opportunity their family received, Eric was unable to conform to the new way of life. His erratic behavior and subsequent suicide ended any chance of stability in Vicky’s life. This situation in which a person is unable to live a stable life due to the instability of their family is similar to Dukie from The Wire. Dukie is an intelligent and well behaved student, but despite his potential he is unable to live a stable life due to his situation at home. The relationship between Eric and Vicky is the inverse of the situation between Dukie and his parents. In the one situation, the criminal son prevents the mother from living a stable life, and in the other, a set of degenerate parents are unable to provide a stable home for their son. In both situations, the result is agonizing.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
I couldn’t stop wondering about the makeup of Eric’s friend group. Who were these other young men and where did they come from? They certainly seem to enable him throughout his time in Montana, but were they on a path of violence and vice before Eric and Vicky arrived in the West, or was Eric’s Bronx tendencies a debilitating influence on a swath of the community. We only hear from Kozol about his friends as a group, but these are young men as individuals, is anyone looking out for them? Will the absence of Eric (if he’s the ringleader) send them scurrying back to their pre-Bronx Montanana lives or were they all raised in similarly dire situations as Eric? We just don’t know.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Even with new job opportunities and aid from the government and church, Vicky and her family were trapped in the web of systemic poverty. Eric and Lisette took two starkly different paths, both with their own struggles. While Eric’s life ends in suicide, Jenny is seemingly happy with a child and husband and college degree. I can’t help but wonder whether The Wire’s absence of women is suggestive of girls lower incarceration in inner-cities. Namond seems to have made his way with the help of Bunny Colvin, but what happened to the fighting girls from the classroom?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
Lower inner-city incarceration rates for women as a reason for ignoring them in The Wire is an interesting idea. I got the feeling that one of the main reasons for keeping the focus off of them was that not a single woman was dealing on the corners, thus making their stories “boring”. In The Wire they are mostly relegated to romantic interests and one-time extras, but I think the stories of women have tremendous potential in the situations of the show and in the study of inner-city communities. In the case of The Wire, it might just be plain old sexism.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This sentence really made me think about the wire and how there is very little talk about the future or having kids among Namond and his friends in season 4. Do they resent the life they were born into and therefore don’t want to do the same thing to their children or do they see themselves as “game changers” that will give their future children better lives?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I think partially is that the current circumstances don’t really allow for long term foresight, but rather how to make the best out of a situation in the now.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
This sentence really stuck out to me: “I’m the one who made it through.” In the other reading by Jorja Leap, I talked about how such a key idea in this class in how can we break the cycle, the cycle of generational gang violence. Although in most cases it is nearly impossible if someone is not in an environment that will support success, particularly that will support education. This is why Prez is so intent on helping Dukie, he wants to give him everything his environment lacks: a role model, hygiene, food, encouragement, but it still isn’t enough. Lisette’s mother was strong and was able to turn her situation around and provide for her, and therefore she was able to break that cycle. Now, Lisette is on her way to completing her studies to become a paralegal.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
It’s still a shame how rare people breaking out of this cycle are. It makes one think that if there could be a Prez for every Dukie the cycle could end tomorrow.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
Kozol ends Vicky, Lisette, and Eric’s story on a somewhat ambiguous note, leaving the reader to consider whether their move to Montana helped or hurt their lives. It is debatable, as Vicky and Eric could not fully adjust to their new surroundings and way of life like Lisette did. The trauma of life in New York took a harsher toll on Eric, who appeared to carry it with him to Montana. Perhaps Lisette was young enough to forget New York and make a new life, with the help of Dr. Edwards. Vicky-who decided to relocate her family and maintained a positive attitude until Eric’s death-demonstrates the life long effects of abuse, homelessness, and poverty. Even when she was removed from her dangerous and precarious situation in New York, her placement in the opposite environment does not magically heal her wounds or Eric’s. I believe this is evidence of the impossibility of truly escaping poverty as well as the incredibly profound effect it has on lives.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I completely agree with Mary here that it’s difficult to ascertain whether Vicky and her family were better or worse off after their move out of NYC. Still, one can think of the move as an investment for the future. Perhaps Lisette will have many children down the road who go on to live happy, productive lives. If this is the case, can we say that the move was worth it, even with Eric’s suicide? Any type of immigration will carry with it hardships as an individual tries to acclimate to a new environment. Perhaps Vicky and Eric could never “truly escape” as Mary mentions in her comment, but if their descendants and relatives are happier than they would have been in NYC, then we can call their move selfless and worthwhile.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
This raises the idea of whether we will always remain products of our environments. Although Vicki, Lisette and Eric seemed to be making moves in the right direction, their lives immediately took a turn for the worse again, leading them right back to where they started. So does that hold out hope for Lisette? Will she be able to move forward or will she somehow end up exactly where she started as well?
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment Hide Thread Detail
I think this one of the biggest questions of the Wire as well. One of the most disheartening parts of season 4 and 5 of the Wire were the ways in which many people remained broken. Namond was able to get out of the Game but Dukie, Randy, Michael and even older characters like McNulty or Bodie all remained trapped within the confines of their situations. It felt like the Wire showed how people can try and change but ultimately if the institutions are flawed, individual action very rarely changes lives. That might be realistic or it might be fatalistic but Kozol seems to agree.
New Conversation
Hide Full Comment
General Document Comments 0