Harlan County, USA

Today, I experienced amazement at the crass and idiotic nature of our fellow students not felt since attending this university. For a bit of background, Harlan County, USA is a documentary from the 70's about a coal miner's strike for the right to join the UMWA union (as a very interesting aside, Duke power happened to be the company owning the mine, and attempting to prevent them from signing a Union contract, proving that nothing with the Duke name is good for the world). It is a very grainy and amateur film visually, but its quality comes from the candid nature of the investigation it makes into the poverty of the eastern Kentucky coal mine country, and how the struggle between the little man and big business can destroy lives. None of this was debated by my fellow Engl 42 students; the amazement occured with a single comment by the one known as "melted GI Joe" and he found a second in what I like to call the corner of Idiots. His offending statement went something like the following, "Why don't those people just go on strike the whole time, or even just move away? It looks like that place sucks anyway, I would leave." Now, this might not at first glace seem such a bad statement, but let us consider the implications of this. First, how can we expect those living in extreme poverty to pick up and leave, when they have children to support, no built up nestegg to finace the move, and no education to speak of with which to find a new job? Some people seem not to realize how destructive the cycle of poverty becomes in a family like those in the film; to pay for the kids, the mother and father work hard at low paying jobs just to make ends meet. Then, the oldest begin to work, to help the family along, and education goes out the window. Just about the time it seems they will get their head above water, someone gets sick, the car breaks down, etc. And then, back to square one, with no one ever making it beyond the limited education that can be afforded before going into the workforce. Perhaps this genius does not realize that people of lower income are not lesser individuals; they are not seeking a lifelong handout and a life of barely getting by. Despite the claims of some of our finest politicians, not everyone on welfare simply wants a handout; to many, it takes a quite a bit of swallowing their pride (and a hungry family at home) to bring them there, and they definately do not want to remain there forever. It makes me particularly mad because of upbringing I had, and the realization I made sometime in my teenage years that I had been amazingly fortunate to be two steps away from the same cycle. Not that I ever lived in poverty, I have my parents to thank for everything I ever needed growing up. But my mom and dad did a very good job of teaching me that I was lucky, not entitled to that situation. I remeber two guys that worked for us in tobacco, a shit job for sure, that also worked at the furiture plant in Galax during the day. I always kinda wondered why we always had them help, even when it was pretty easy stuff dad and I could have done by ourselves (Not like we have a plantation), but one day I figured it out as I overheard them talking about their hours being cut at the mill. Dad was paying them way more an hour than they asked for. Now not that my dad is a saint or any sort of spectacular philanthropist, but after that was discovered, I thought about him a little different light. I heard my grandma talk about how hard it was in Grayson County back before my Grandfather got a job with the DOT. I remeber my Mom getting kids jobs with anyone in the county that would take them, helping in hay or tobacco, whatever that could be found. I guess this kinda reflection makes me a sentimentalist, and it probably doesn't matter much except to make me look like a preachy asshole, a bastard trying to make myself look better because I care about those less fortunate when I am in extremely lucky circumstances. But don't tell me they should go somewhere else, or get another job, or that we don't owe anyone else a part of our paycheck. When the mill closes, you do owe that man or woman a helping hand, because somewhere down the line, you got one too.