How one book can change a culture
It’s not often that I read a book that both entertains and ch
allenges the way I think about a social issue. In all honesty, it’s rare that I read a book that does either. But Under the Overpass, by Mike Yankoski, easily does both.
The story’s of two guys who set out to understand America’s poverty. And the means by which they do it could not be more appropriate: The two actually become poor. They trade everything they have for six months of sleeping on the streets, begging for money, and eating out of trash cans. Think a legitimate Nickel and Dimed to the tenth degree. We’re not talking pretending minimum wage to make a quick buck, we’re talking stoops and shelters for nothing more than a perspective.
Mike and his friend Sam visit six cities across America in six months, living off only the streets. And the people they meet and stories they tell are remarkable. Through it all, the two come away with illnesses, infections, massive weight loss, and an understanding of what is really entailed in being poor.
And in helping the poor, that sort of knowledge could not be more priceless.
The two since have committed themselves to fighting poverty, and I’ve no doubt they’ll do more than any politician will on this front, and with infinitely fewer resources. The lesson learned here is invaluable: If you want to help a group of people, you have to first be willing to immerse yourself in that particular group.
Pots, pans and Mexicans
A few years back I went down to Mexico with a church to build a house for an impoverished Mexican family. I spent only four days in Juarez, just across the border from El Paso, Texas, but it was enough to catch a glimpse of what these families were up against. They slept in pallet houses, usually on dirt floors; they had no pots or pans to boil or sanitize their water; they had no shoes or sweatshirts for the freezing winters; they had no blankets to huddle under for warmth.
After I returned to the comforts of the United States, I shared my experiences with different friends and family. And along the way, I came across a woman who was organizing a Christmas drive to collect goods for the children of Mexico. I asked her what her church had collected, and she reeled off this extravagant list of bikes, soccer balls, hula hoops and the likes. As awesome as that was, I kept thinking back to how useful a hula hoop would be in 32-degree cold, or how long a bike would last in a city where theft was as common as illness, or how much fun a soccer ball would be once it went flat (which it probably would in less than a week).
The bottom line was that the people of this church had never been to Mexico, had never seen or understood the poverty that existed there. They had no idea how to serve a community that they had never experienced before. The intentions were great; the results were anything but.
Politicians who drink
Fellow SP blogger Kwame said that he doesn’t want a president who can sit down and have a beer with him. And, honestly, I’m not sure I do either. But I do want a president who, at one point in his life, did sit down and have a beer with some working-class Americans. And my vote will go to the candidate who drank with the people I’m most concerned about.
If the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are my most prominent issues, then John McCain seems a likely choice for president based on his background. If the economy and poverty are my major concerns, then it seems Barack Obama is a good choice for president. And if the promotion of big business and low wages with little health care benefits are of interest to me — or failed real estate enterprises — then Hillary Clinton becomes the obvious choice.
Good intentions are a far cry from actually helping an individual. Throwing money at people is an even worse effort. Immersing yourself in a culture seems the only way to actually serve that culture. That’s the lesson these politicians can learn from people like Mike Yankoski and Sam Purvis. That’s the challenge these candidates face.
Filed under: Arts and Entertainment, Literature | Tagged: Literature, Mexico, Politics, Poverty
OK. I have not read this post yet. I selfishly just looked at the one sentence that included my name.
I just want to clear up one point. I did not say I do not want a president with whom I can have a beer. What I tried to say was, it is silly to rank ability to relate in that way, ahead of what the person will actually do, especially when the two are in conflict. Ideally, I want president who has sound policy and with whom I could sit and get along.
OK now, I am actually going to read the post.
Well put. I think this same issue is relevant to not only politicians, but also the development aid world that I am somewhat apart of.
From my understanding, one of the main knocks on the World Bank and IMF is this lack of understanding of local conditions due to a lack of experience in the countries that are being “helped”. Many of the times, the World Bank and IMF send country “experts” into developing countries who stipulate demands and aid projects. However, much of the time, these “experts” are no more than people like me who have been schooled in economics at US schools. At the most, they have spent a few months on research projects in said country. Consequently, they fail to appreciate the local environment and end up recommending “hula-hoops” and “soccer balls”.
I’m not saying all World Bank projects are like this. But enough of them are and have really soiled the Bank’s reputation.
Anyways, I’m just saying that we should also add development and aid workers to the list of people who should really understand the people who they serve. To reiterate Kyle’s point, intentions are great but may be ultimately disastrous if not bolstered by understanding.