reprinted from August 14, 2003

  Within my lifetime, being poor has gone from an individual economic condition to an ingrained segment of our society. Being poor was once considered a temporary condition that could be escaped by a bit of luck, a helping hand from a relative or friend, or just plain hard work and frugality.

In my youth, the worst that could be said of another person was to call them "poor white trash". The clear meaning of that label was that they made no attempt to improve their economic condition, and that their poverty was so ingrained that they really didn't care. It usually referred to whole families, of several generations. There was a clear implication that the condition was simply the result of laziness.

For many years after the Great Depression, being poor was a common condition for many people. My recollection of the 40's is that "poor" was a relative term. The lifestyle that was most common, even "normal" then, would be looked down on now as deprivation. Children of poor families wore cheap (but clean) clothes, with one nice outfit reserved for very special occasions. Fashion was something for rich people. Gifts were few, and were usually clothes. Eating out was a rarity, and even then it was in neighborhood joints. Most blue-collar families didn't have a car. Many didn't have a phone. We working-class poor lived in our own parts of town, which meant that we associated with others in a similar economic condition. Residences were mixed together with small businesses, so there was no need to own a car. Everything needed for daily life was available within walking distance.

This "poorness" was not depressing, and it carried no shame... at least not as part of normal life. We were surrounded by people in the same condition, and everyone had a silent vision of "moving up". Even the visions were not grand... a little better furniture... some nicer clothes... maybe moving to a better apartment.

We weren't relatively poor... we were relatively normal. There was no great angst about conditions, but everyone did know exactly what it took to move up... frugality and consistent effort. Everyone had a saving account, and spending less than one earned was a goal. Credit was available only to those who had assets, so "stretching money" between paydays was essential. My mother purchased more significant items by putting them on layaway, paying for them over many weeks, then getting the goods after the last payment... and that was a moment of achievement and pride.

In a nutshell, we lived poor in order to save something for the future... and to protect against some inevitabilities, like job layoff or sickness. Any emergency borrowing that was needed was done from friends and relatives, and that was done with some shame, and as a last resort. The general attitude was "take no charity". My parents finally bought their first house after 25 years of marriage.

What some younger people might be surprised to learn was that this was a happy period of my life... the most interesting... the most exciting, and I know I'm far from unique in that attitude. People who grew up in even worse conditions often have the same feelings, even those who lived in conditions that simply aren't allowed to exist now. The destroyed river flat and hidden communities of the Twin Cities were examples, as was the vanished Rondo area.

How can being poor be a happy experience? It took me a lot of years to really understand why it's easier to be happy when you're poor than when you're not. People were forced to plan, to save, to skimp, and to be creative... to strive. Those are all creative, energetic challenges, and not one of them is at all demeaning. Rather, they are proud traits that give one a sense of achievement. They're activities that people with more money can avoid, but in doing so, they harm themselves.

Contrast my childhood experience with that of a typical suburban child now living in "the American Dream". I usually slept on a couch or a foldaway bed, while he has a well-furnished room of his own. I invented games, while he plays with games invented and manufactured by others. I built toys from junk and imagined them to be anything I wanted, while his toys are pre-created and hard to imagine being anything else.

I could watch the trains from my yard, and ships on the river behind that, while he watches TV or his computer. My realm was about 4 square blocks, so I knew everything possible about them. His realm is his room and anywhere he can ride in a car. My walk to school and back was an adventure while his is a bus ride. I can still remember the few presents I received, while he'll be lucky to remember those from the last occasion.

I'm not trying to glorify the "good old days", but I am trying to point out some characteristics Americans have largely lost during my lifetime, especially among the poor. I've said that I live in an area that has many recent immigrants. When I watch them I see the kind of poorness I remember from my youth. They view their situation as normal and hopefully temporary. For many of them, it's better than their life before they arrived here, so they're not even dissatisfied.

The American "poor" I see now are inner-city, and they're unique in my lifetime. They're poor and likely to stay that way. I'm generalizing, but if we compare their possessions with those of my childhood, we'll see some very disturbing differences. We'll find TV's, stereo systems, cellphones, expensive clothing, and often pretty nice cars. How can someone with such possessions be considered poor? I think most of us understand what makes them poor, but many of us may be unwilling to admit it.

For these Americans, poor does not carry the traditional meaning. For many, it has become a permanent way of life, that is likely to continue for generations. They think they're likely to remain at that level, and they resent it. Despite resenting it, they don't make much effort at trying to raise their standard of living. They get by, make no progress, and as long as they can keep their possessions up to date, they seem willing to remain right where they are. Willing may be unfair... what I sense is more like a hopeless acceptance.

Loss of hope, and feeling that one is trapped in a stagnant existence is poor in every sense of the word. I haven't experienced it myself, but I've seen enough to know that it's also destructive as hell. Tomorrow, I want to examine why this caste of far-from-destitute but psychologically poor people has developed in our country.