 few
weeks ago, I was involved in a discussion
with someone in the family. His thesis was that there are people in this
country who are “disadvantaged” because of race, gender, sexual orientation,
ethnicity, poverty, whatever.
Well, I don't have to tell you that arguing with a member of the family
is a delicate thing. You don't want to blow a relationship over a disagreement
having nothing to do directly with family affairs. So in a sense, you walk
on eggshells. Anyway, after a short while, because we were both uncomfortable,
the discussion ended without further verbal blood-letting.
But I found myself musing about the debate a few days later while out
for a walk. As I thought about what had happened, I asked myself: What
advantages did I have as a boy? I was raised in a lower-class Jewish ghetto
in the midst of the Great Depression. Meals were scanty. I wore hand-me-down
clothes. Jobs were nonexistent. Anti-semitism appeared to be prevalent.There
were no networks to which we could turn for help. College was totally out
of the question. And to top it all off, there were no government programs
at the time to alleviate the situation in any way. It seemed to me that
my future was hopeless.
But my mother had lit a fire in my belly. And she continually stoked
it, exhorting me to make something of myself. And so with the G.I. Bill
of Rights and with my wife's help and her many sacrifices, I did.
Is my story unique? I don't think so. I suspect that there are millions
of stories like it. And they involve people of all races, ethnicity, sexual
orientation, religion, and gender who were born to poverty.
So tell me, what do people mean when they talk about “the disadvantaged”?
Think about it. |
