When we stand together as “Americans” we can bring about change…
First, I like to thank everyone for the hate mail, really you’re too kind. This “stupid gringo” was warmed to his cockles by the out pouring of hate and the many, many page of why “stupid Americans” should stop complaining about their jobs and stop blaming anyone but the politicians.
So after talking with a number of drivers, giving it some deep thought in – and out – of the shower, and reading over what others have said on this issue, I think I can explain why so many of us feel a sense of frustration, right or wrong, at the current increase in the use of cheap and foreign labor. It’s a story about a guy name Pat.
But first, some background. I was born in downtown Atlanta, GA down near the stadium. For those of you that don’t know, that’s public housing; red clay brick houses packed together like cars in a parking lot, barely room between them and a 4×8 piece of land behind them so that you could scratch out of the earth handful of corn, sweet potatoes and peas. We moved north when I was young to Morrison, IL to make a better life. Staying with my grandparents on the farm, my mother – a single woman in the seventies – went out to find work. (Background done: guy writing this been there done that, can relate to being poor and wanting a better life.)
Fast forward – Pat, and the point.
In high school, like in most high schools, a group of us would hang out well into the evening after school, and usually at Jeremy’s house. Jeremy’s parents were great, welcomed us all in, and even fed us. They had everything: cable T.V., Coleco-vision, air-conditioning and rock-n-roll. We were teenagers, head banging and getting into trouble. But no matter how much trouble, and how many police rides we took, their house always welcomed us back.
Pat started hanging out with the group, and at first he seemed to want to really take part in what we were doing. He accepted our choice in music, seemed fine with the food Jeremy’s mother would whip up and seemed fine with our choice of activities. But after a time Pat started getting critical. It started simple at first with comments that he really didn’t like the food, and quickly moved on to criticism of how clean the house was and how Jeremy’s parents really needed to be more disciplined on their kids. Over time, his comments grew more jaded and really started to piss off the group. One day we simply asked him, if the food, the environment and the company were so bad why was he coming around? He said; “’Cause it’s better than my house.”
My grandfather had a saying for it: “Put up or shut up”. The letters and emails I receive talk about how “…we should really quit blaming illegals for the job situation and start focusing on the government…” and I’d like to respond with; “…if you can’t change your own country, don’t change mine…” Don’t get angry at our frustration at cheap labor and opportunity- the “opportunity” here didn’t happen overnight. This opportunity came from countless generations building up the land and its companies, defending this land and its laws, communities contributing to growth, and creating a common country where dues were paid. Take, for example, the little town of Morrison IL. The community grew out from the G.E plant established there over 80 years ago – subsidized by the state from community tax dollars, infrastructure created from local tax dollars, generation on generation loyal, buying G.E only products to build the company up. We may not have stock options, but we have blood and sweat invested in these American companies that now provide jobs abroad to an imported labor market willing to work so cheap that it may as well be deemed slave labor.
It’s not prejudice fueling the fire of frustration with the job market and NAFTA, it’s division and dilution of the dream that was once America. When we stand together as “Americans” we can bring about change, but how do we stand together when we separate the masses into groups like “Hispanic-Americans”, “Cuban-Americans”, or “African-Americans”? My grandfather used to say, “You can’t be a little bit pregnant or a little bit married” and you can’t be a little bit American – and a lot of us are tired of fair-weather freedom fighters, supporting the dream as long as it supports your needs.
But I appreciate the hate mail – after all, this country defends the rights of every one of its citizens to believe and have whichever point of view they want to take. Even a negative one.
Next Month: Petro petrified politics – falling freight, fractured futures, fabled freedoms a reckless recession.
Thoughts? Email me at [email protected]
