The Working Poor
This last Tuesday was my birthday, my 24th to be exact. Quite honestly, I was a little down. However, today I was reflecting on my life experiences, and I'd like to share one memory related to birthdays, which made my malaise seem insignificant.
When Sheena and I lived in Spanish Harlem, New York City, I once spent a few hours with a neighbor of mine. She graciously invited me into her apartment and offered me cake, cake she had baked for herself for her birthday the previous day. As I talked with her, she told me how she had collapsed at work on her birthday from exhaustion and had to go to the hospital. You see, she works two jobs with the dream of bringing her children (who she hasn't seen for years) over from Trinidad. She is about the nicest person you could meet and never once complained about it or asked for pity.
Experiences like this, hearing stories of young people in Tanzania begging (not for money, but for bottles to hold watter in), reading books like Nickled and Dimed, and learning about the working poor in general, have broadened my awareness of what the world is really like for most people.
The next question is, "What should I do about it?!" What do you think our responsibility is?
Posted at November 18, 2005 07:54 PM
