On Poverty

I’ve been extremely busy lately. I’m devoting quite a bit of my energies to advocating for (and lobbying for) the Minnesota Health Act.

One thing has got me bothered, though. And perhaps it is just my oversensitivity.

What is this bothering thing?

A general lack of compassion among the people I am acquainted with.

I get the feeling that if all the poor people just up and died of some incurable Spanish flu bug they wouldn’t be the worse for wear (my acquaintances, as obviously, the impoverished would be greatly affected.) Unfortunately for my acquaintances, were that to happen, they would realize too late that there is always a “bottom” of the money totem pole, and perhaps they would now be closer to it.

Poverty is not an indicator of a person’s low worth. Material riches are not a “good people” status quo we should all strive to reach.

It is not about money people! Money, your house, your rings, and your fabulous wardrobe do not somehow make your opinion more valuable, more poignant, or more meaningful. It simply means you have the means to adorn yourself grandly, and even perhaps others. That is all. You do not suddenly possess more personal “human” worth as your means grow.

I am not rich. I am not desperately poor. I have been desperately poor. When I was desperately poor I still had fears, I still had dreams, and I still read classic literature with fervor. I was no more and no less “human” or “valuable.” I was, however, less “valued” by society as a whole.

Unfortunate, but true.