Seattle is stunning. There’s no doubt about that. As an LA transplant, I feel almost overcome by the sudden rush of clean, comparatively unpolluted oxygen flooding my lungs. The vibrant culture and passion for life is tangible in the air. It’s almost like an electric hum, generating hype and excitement within the city. Within the first week alone, I was able to canoe the University of Washington Arboretum, barbeque at the beaches of Golden Gardens Park, go to the Fremont Fair and see naked (but painted) people biking, meet alumni from all fields and professions, pull invasive ivies and periwinkle at Carkeek Park, and watch the sun set over a deceivingly lazy skyline of Seattle at Gas Works Park after a daylong excursion at Seattle PrideFest 2014. To say this first week was busy would be quite the understatement.
And yet, despite the amazing, thriving culture and nature scape around us, homelessness and poverty is still pervasive in the very community that prides itself on its progressiveness and acceptance. Like most large cities, Seattle is no exception to the rule. The income disparity and quality of life differs greatly on the spectrum. This past Thursday, I had the opportunity to visit an off-site shelter for war veterans with my supervisor, Judy Poston, the head of the Financial Fitness Boot Camp at Solid Ground. Solid Ground is a human services agency that works with people face to face every day to keep people in homes and shelters, provide nutritious foods, and opportunities for skill building. When we visited the site, we met with around eight veterans one-on-one who wanted to tackle their financial issues –whether it be their debt, medical bills, poor credit, or budgeting.
Getting more firsthand experiences with homeless people, combined with a poignant and soberly insightful Humans of New York post that I saw earlier this week, I sought to dissect and discuss the rooted racism and systems of oppression that continue to perpetuate the cycle of poverty. In the HONY photo, the man being interviewed states that, “there are two books in America: one for the poor and one for the rich. The poor person does a crime, and gets 40 years. A rich person gets a slap on the wrist for the same crime. They say that the poor person doesn’t want to work and the poor person just wants a handout. Well I picked cotton until I was thirteen, left Alabama and got my education in the streets of New York. I drove a long distance truck all my life and never once drew welfare, never once took food stamps either. I sent four kids to college. But they say all poor people do is sit around with a quart of beer. Look in this bag next to me. I’ve got three things in this bag next to me: a Red Bull, a Pepsi, and Draino, because my drain is clogged. But you see, even if I do everything right, I still have to play by the poor book.”
Getting more firsthand experiences with homeless people, combined with a poignant and soberly insightful Humans of New York post that I saw earlier this week, I sought to dissect and discuss the rooted racism and systems of oppression that continue to perpetuate the cycle of poverty. In the HONY photo, the man being interviewed states that, “there are two books in America: one for the poor and one for the rich. The poor person does a crime, and gets 40 years. A rich person gets a slap on the wrist for the same crime. They say that the poor person doesn’t want to work and the poor person just wants a handout. Well I picked cotton until I was thirteen, left Alabama and got my education in the streets of New York. I drove a long distance truck all my life and never once drew welfare, never once took food stamps either. I sent four kids to college. But they say all poor people do is sit around with a quart of beer. Look in this bag next to me. I’ve got three things in this bag next to me: a Red Bull, a Pepsi, and Draino, because my drain is clogged. But you see, even if I do everything right, I still have to play by the poor book.”
I feel like in the first week I was confronted unabashedly by both sides of the spectrum for living quality. On the one hand I rubbed elbows with the most privileged of society – white, cis, heterosexual (for the most part), males with high-paying jobs in respectable STEM careers – while on the other hand I saw those living off of $0-$120 per month with thousands of dollars in debt. Most were black/African-American.
Playing the race card is one thing but when you delve into the brunt of the facts it’s very apparent that the cycle of poverty begins and ends with a system of racism and oppression, invisible shackles that cripple people from achieving a “normal” lifestyle. That’s not to say that the only people in poverty and need are people of color. That’s not the point. The point is that POC have generally a much more challenging experience trying to, say, get a job, get housing, get a loan, etc. (you know, fun “normal” people things) because people still hold prejudices against POC.
This problem is not more or less drastic in Seattle. It’s just been more on the frontlines of my everyday experience.
So is there a rich book and poor book in America still? I’d venture to say, damn right there is.
Emily Kuo
Duke Student '15
Playing the race card is one thing but when you delve into the brunt of the facts it’s very apparent that the cycle of poverty begins and ends with a system of racism and oppression, invisible shackles that cripple people from achieving a “normal” lifestyle. That’s not to say that the only people in poverty and need are people of color. That’s not the point. The point is that POC have generally a much more challenging experience trying to, say, get a job, get housing, get a loan, etc. (you know, fun “normal” people things) because people still hold prejudices against POC.
This problem is not more or less drastic in Seattle. It’s just been more on the frontlines of my everyday experience.
So is there a rich book and poor book in America still? I’d venture to say, damn right there is.
Emily Kuo
Duke Student '15