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A debt to our children

The eviction was in no way fast, at least for those watching. Pieces of furniture and personal effects started to pile into the parking lot one at a time. The man being evicted carried out the more personal items himself. At first, black garbage bags containing clothes, followed by dresser drawers, a ladder, and wire-shelving units. A bed, a washing machine and dryer were the last to join the contents of the apartment on the sidewalk.

Any witness to an eviction can tell you it’s a very private matter carried out in a horrifically public manner. The apartment management at least planned this eviction at midday, when few would be present to be witnesses.

Hours later, the task complete, the evicted man stood beneath a tree on the sidewalk in front of his possessions and rocked back and forth. I backed away from sight at any moment I thought he might look up. From the third story of the apartment complex, it had the makings of voyeurism.

Understanding that eviction is becoming more common than I’d like to think about, that bothers me. It’s not just single old men. It’s women. It’s children. It’s young. It’s old. It’s the new class of transparent poor that permeate our culture, wandering through our lives while giving us little knowledge of their struggles until they appear in a parking lot, surrounded by all of the things they’ve ever owned at an absolute end.

I say transparent poor. They can be educated. They can be professionals. They might even be highly respected in their community. But the burden of debt hangs on their minds. Their clothes might not show it, and you might not even see it in their eyes, but it’s there. It’s the eight-hundred- pound gorilla in the room that has eyes for only them. They might be just a month away from the street—all it takes is a late rent payment or a defaulted mortgage.

The public dialogue has not yet come to embrace these invisible people, or the guilt that follows what some might consider necessary debt. If the cost of living isn’t keeping up with wages, the credit card ads do look very appealing. They are meant to look very appealing. Yet we should all be appalled at what it is doing to us as a culture.

No interest for six months! $5,000 credit line!

If you are hungry, cold, or struggling to make ends meet for rent, even less might be just as tempting. Add children and the mire is only thicker. The realization that the companies that issue these credit cards do so for profit might not occur to you until six months later when the 30% interest is added. Ultimately, the quick fix that might have fed your family for a week or provided a winter coat is what might mean the difference between living on the street and having a home.
Credit cards will screw you. The people behind them will screw you. They have become the mobsters of our time. If you miss a payment and have a phone line this is something you quickly come to understand. But how can change be mandated when the federal government spends wildly on warfare while Americans starve? How can change happen when the spending habits of our country are echoed in the bullshit bills that feed pockets and not hungry mouths? How can we change?

I recently spoke with a friend of mine who is an avid supporter of Hillary Clinton. I might have supported Clinton if I didn’t feel she spoke to the deep-seated hopes of the most vulnerable among us. In her speech to the Auraria campus, she promised free health care and free education. It broke my heart because it’s something I desperately want, but I know it’s not something she can promise, because I want health care as much as I want more of my paycheck every month. Free programs will leave us bankrupt, and it’s not only those who carry debt who would have to bear the burden. It’s all of us.

If as a nation we were to divert the war budget to a program to not only cancel the debt of millions of Americans, but also educate the newest generation about the serious dangers credit cards pose, we could strengthen our future and pull this transparent generation out of it’s grave.
For God’s sake do it soon, before it’s too late.