The day started out well, I felt good about the interview, and about the position. I would really like to be chosen for this job. I left feeling worthwhile, and capable. Not like someone who isn't worthy of consideration. I had hope. The children were working somewhat on task when I got home, the husband was finishing putting the yard to bed for the winter. I enjoyed a couple of hours at home helping the kids with their schoolwork. Teaching them, working with them is a joy, even when the boy falls out of his chair while learning his multiplication tables.
The other side of the day took place in poor school. There are some truly beautiful people in the room. People who are struggling, people who are hopeful. Out of the 13 people in the class today, there were more than a couple of bigots. Now, I understand why the state sent me, a once middle-class, white woman to the class. I get it. I've been at home with my children for quite a few years, working as a consultant, or as an unpaid volunteer, and homeschooling. I haven't done a full-time gig in a long time. The state determined that I fit the category of needing help to get work. I may not like being forced to attend this program, but I do see why I have to be there. The state follows protocol, and as we've discussed earlier, a temporary disability isn't recognized in the protocol. Therefore, I am required to attend a program contracted by the state to force me to find work.
I attend the mandatory class. I dress in my interview outfit (bonus, I was already wearing it). This gets me extra points so I can go to the company's Closet of Happiness for Poor People (not its real name), and choose a single item that food stamps won't buy. I was told there was toilet paper, there wasn't.
As an aside, food stamps should buy toilet paper, or you should donate it to food banks and charities. It is the most necessary hygiene item. Soap is nice, but showering carefully and daily in warm water can offset a lot of personal odor. There are a lot of people who follow natural body care practices, and its fine. You would never notice. But you notice when a person doesn't use toilet paper. So a word of advice, when you donate those pickled herring that are about to expire in your pantry, donate toilet paper too. If you are a Costco member, donate a big pack of the individually wrapped rolls. People need toilet paper along with the cream of celery soup (why did I buy that?).
Back to my class. I sat alongside a couple from Iraq. They struggle with English. Remember though, the description of English as being a language that pulls other languages into dark alleys, beats them up, and goes through their pockets for loose grammar. People who aren't born speaking English are learning a violent language. Our language regularly riots and takes hostages. Knowing this, having studied, and taught Latin and English Grammar to my children, I have great respect for anyone who learns this language.
The husband of this couple from Iraq was a doctor before coming here. He'd like any job in the medical field, but his education and experience as a doctor isn't recognized here. He and his wife have come as refugees and are going through the refugee program that our local college sponsors. It doesn't take much reading to figure out that the situation in Iraq. His medical experience is probably what ensured he and his wife could come to the US. They struggle to introduce themselves and to answer the questions. The husband has a stronger grasp on English. I admire them. I know learning English isn't easy, and I can't imagine learning it from a non-germanic or non-romantic language.
Here's where the day made me so angry. As the wife struggles to introduce herself, other adult students groan, roll their eyes, and mutter about how people should just speak English if they are going to live here. I'm embarrassed. I look at these other people and wonder why they think that a woman who wants to get hired at Walmart is a threat. I wonder how they can treat a man who was once a doctor as subhuman. Its disgraceful. Everyone in the room is there because they have asked the state for help in taking care of their families. How can any one of them think they are better than the person next to them.
How, and why, have we managed to pit poor people against poor people so effectively? Here is my prediction: my Iraqi tablemates will get on their feet much more quickly than 2/3 of the people sitting in that room yesterday. They will not waste time finding excuses and having unrealistic expectations, instead they will work hard to build a good life. I am humbled.
I think I must have missed this one when you posted it. I really hope your last observation comes true. People can be real jerks sometimes. I'm glad you are one that sees through it.
ReplyDelete