A Word's Difference

I am at my worst in the morning. Ask anyone. Although, according to my sister, I am also at my worst when I am shopping with her, or hungry, or tired, or when the full moon is out. Clearly, getting up before the sun is a chore for me, even though I have done it twice the past few days. So go me.

Anyways, we were up and at 'em in order to start our first day of service. When we reached YSOP, I was really impressed with the extend of the programs as well as the building itself and how they had designed and used the space. 

At our orientation we met Lisa, who was in charge, and Arielle and Carolyn (I'm probably spelling your name wrong and I apologize), who worked with YSOP through Americorps. I think the orientation was a give and take between us. It felt like they were sizing us up, in regards to our understanding of poverty. I think, and hope, they liked what they saw. 

We received our service assignments for the day, and my group was sent to Hour Children. This organization services women who were formerly incarcerated and are struggling, as well as women who are incarcerated. To me, this organization is unique due to the services that are provided for both the women and their children. Our job was to work in the daycare that Hour Children provided for their clients.

Emily and I were assigned to the infants' room. I played with a few of them for a little bit, but one of the main caretakers was called away to handle paperwork. She asked me to look after "John", a little guy who had mastered rolling over, but was still working on the whole crawling thing. 

I said yes, because I wanted to help in whatever form I could. I was a little nervous though, because oh my god what if I break him? I didn't really have time to think about what could happen, because John wanted out of his seat and wanted it now. 

I pulled him out of his seat and started playing with him and a rubber duck. Automatically, I started talking to him. Not in the usual baby cooing, but in a normal voice. 

"Hey buddy, you're kicking a lot. You gonna play soccer? You wanna run fast?"

"John, buddy, you can't eat my ring. I know it's shiny, but I promise you won't like it."

"Little guy, my fingers probably don't taste good either." 

Everything I did with him, I provided commentary. I talked about his toys, talked about how good he was a rolling, how he just needed a little more to crawl, how his toys made some crazy cool noises. In the front of my mind was the word gap between children of different social classes. 

Children in lower classes will have heard, by the time they have entered school,

something close to 1 million less words than their more privileged counterparts. One of the few predictors of success at that age is the number of words you know. All I could think of was trying to make up that word gap for him. If I talked enough, maybe I could somehow get him enough words, to give him a better chance. Maybe, if I don't stop talking, and keep using different words, I could make up those million words he might miss. 

Of course, I can't. But I still think he knew something good was happening. He was so well behaved and so sweet. All he wanted to do was play and see new things. I did my best to show him everything, accompanied by my constant talking. I don't think he understood what I was saying, but I really think he was listening. 

Despite the fact that I spent the whole time talking with him, I don't really have the words to describe what I think was happening. The caretakers said he liked me, and that he liked hearing people talk. I think he enjoyed what I had to say, and I think he somehow knew the meaning behind what I was doing. At least, I want to think that. 

It's so sad to me that he may already be falling behind. John, and kids like him, have so much potential and have so much to offer. They can't do that if they aren't given the basic tools they need. 

So many living in poverty are like that. They can do so much, and they want to do so much. But it's hard to start up your business when you can't feed yourself or your kids. You can't have the next brilliant idea when you can't hang onto your basic human dignity. Organizations like Hour Children are filling such a huge gap that I didn't even know existed, but it's still not enough. You can't be successful when the game has been rigged against you. And the sheer amount of people who can't catch up when they play by the rules of poverty is staggering. So many are trying so hard, but they can't win. 

Not yet.

I wish I could stay in touch with John. I wish I could help him, keeping saying all of these words, trying to get him on the same playing field. But maybe I'm working on the wrong team. 

In order to fix this problem, we need to show society that those in poverty are working their hardest, despite society thinking otherwise. We need to fix ourselves before we can hope to fix others, let alone this broken system.

We need to change the rules of this game we play with people's lives. First of all, we can change how we view the players. Instead of thinking that most of those in poverty are lazy or abusing the system, we need to see that those people are the rare exceptions, not the rules. We need to see that some people who were formerly incarcerated, such as John's mom, are not lost causes. They just lost their way in this big world. Mistakes that these nonviolent offenders were convicted for should not prevent them from getting a job for the rest of their lives. This damages everybody, because these people can't care for themselves, and society has to spend lots of money to care for them. If we can help these people to become self-sufficient, we can improve everyone's chances in the game.

We can also consider the idea of weaning people off of support services, instead of cutting them off entirely. This may soften the blow that the cliff effect has on many people, where losing benefits such as SNAP puts people in a perilous position, despite the fact that they are now making more money. By acclimating people to self-sufficiency, we don't have to turn these people's worlds upside down when they come off of benefits.

By alleviating the need for a survival mode whenever people lose benefits, we have more rational and more capable people. Their focus is on bettering themselves and their community, not on making it through the next few hours. Maybe then our people can improve, our society can improve, and our world can improve. 

I hope John has a chance to show the world how great he is. He's got something. Something special and amazing. And I want everyone to be able to see.

Haley