Dignity, not doles
Matt touches on the importance of finding purpose, especially when in disparaging situations.
A few years ago, I was up north in Evanston at a little coffee shop called Curt’s Café.
Curt’s is not your normal coffee shop. It is not your normal Evanston business. Both quickly become clear when you walk in.
Most of the employees have neck tattoos. Most of them are young and Black. All of them have been in a youth detention facility.
One of the problems with youth detention is when you get out, it’s nearly impossible to get a job. The reason that’s so hard is not just because of your record, but mainly because you don’t have any identification.
When juveniles serve time, they usually leave as adults. There is almost never an adult there with a home for them to stay at, or a birth certificate for them to get an ID with.
The only way for them to get an ID is to live on the streets for a month. Then they can go to a courtroom and prove to a judge they are actually homeless.
I met JT, who was an employee at Curt’s Café, and he told me about his experience getting out of the youth detention facility.
He said when he got out, there was nobody there to pick him up. He had no place to live. He spent his nights sleeping on the CTA cars, where he was ridiculed and called every name imaginable.
Eventually he met Susan Trieschmann, executive director of Curt’s Café. She gave him a place to sleep. She gave him food. She took him to a judge to get an ID.
JT goes in front of the judge, and the judge says, “Where do you live?” And JT answers, “I’m homeless.” And the judge says, “Then how do your homeboys get a hold of you?” JT responds, “I’m homeless.” Then judge says, “Then where does someone send mail to you?” JT, in a broken voice, says, “I’m homeless.”
The conversation is no longer about an address. It is about despair.
It’s at that moment, right there, that the rest of JT’s life changed.
JT would qualify for subsidized housing, welfare and a variety of other governmental assistance.
He needed that help, but the problem is none of those programs is designed to fix despair. America is in a crisis of despair.
The workforce has seen 16% of able-bodied adult males drop out. That means they do not show up in the unemployment numbers because they have completely given up looking for work.
As a result, white males have had the first drop in life expectancy EVER. Drug overdoses. Suicide. Early death. These deaths are commonly called “deaths of despair.”
So what’s the solution?
Sixty years ago, when LBJ created the “War on Poverty,” he put a Sargent in charge – Sargent Shriver, that is. Shriver was responsible for creating the Peace Corps, Job Corps, Head Start, VISTA and Upward Bound.
His solution for lifting people from poverty? “Dignity, not doles.”
The opposite of despair is dignity! This is the key: the essential key to our societal problems.
But we’ve gotten it backwards. In America we are paying people not to work. We are providing doles, and stripping people of their dignity.
That is why we need to lead the charge to stop the war on work, and to restore dignity for every human being.
How do I know this will work?
Because two months ago, I saw JT.
He said he found another job outside of Curt’s Café. He has his own apartment. He is no longer homeless.
But what JT said matters most was, “I got a call on Saturday afternoon, from the catering company I’m working for.” He said they told him, “We are short staffed. We need you. Can you come in to work?”
“Matt, they needed me.”
He paused for a long time, composing himself.
Choked up, he said, “Nobody has ever told me that before.”
Three years ago, JT was at a crossroads. By the grace of God and generosity of people giving their money to places like Curt’s Café, he was able to find work.
He is out of poverty. He has found dignity for the first time in his life. He is needed.
And he knows it.