The Heart of Poverty

When we visit places that are poverty stricken, we often witness acts of kindness that go far beyond what any of us could picture ourselves doing. On the reservation, people adopt anyone who is homeless, despite it adding to the number of mouths to feed on a low to zero income. At least a roof is provided, and a family, to one who is lost and in need.

Well, I certainly still have a roof over my head, and its not in the house of my own family. But despite the college degree and everything else, I am starting to understand poverty a little better. How joblessness leads to hopelessness, discomfort and despair. But in such moments of desperation, I think we all need to ask ourselves what really IS the most important thing to us. Is it important to me to hoard the money I have left and deny my friends something as simple as a meal to share together? Is it important to me to become cynical and depressed?

I know in my heart that I am hopeful. That I believe in magic. And that being poor, if anything, is a chance to focus on the things that really matter. Instead of wearing my sharp edge down to the bluntest it could be by applying to position after position after position, I want to keep myself sharp. I want to start my own business. Make my own way. And the only way to do that is through the community we share with others. If we don't have money, we can have food stamp meals, or dumpster dive food. But as long as we're sharing, the rest will work out. As long as we are believing in our future together. The rest will work out.


But I say that maybe because I have a backup plan... I can move back home. It wouldn't be the worst thing to spend time with my family and live closer to best friends. So I've got nothing to lose. The next month I spend in Portland will not be a waste. No matter how much money I make or lose.