This is For Your Own Good

I don't believe in tough love. There have been plenty of times when I've heard that bullshit "I'm doing this for your own good" or "I'm doing this because I love you" spoken by the parents of my friends to them right before they got whooped. There've been plenty of times my whole life when I've come home to find some broken fucked up kid on my couch who doesn't think he can go home and face what's waiting for him there. I have known my share of fucked up troubled people. I'm related to quite a few. And I've seen a range of responses to the fucked-up trouble--from kicking the kids out and cutting them off to the eternal support in the face of ever-larger crises. And I know that somewhere there must be people who benefit from tough love. But I've never met them. That's not to say that I believe in putting up with all manner of bullshit just because you love someone. Sometimes--often, unfortunately--you have to protect yourself from people you love. If that means you've got to cut them out of your life, then you've got to cut them out of your life. If you can't do anything more for them because you can't bear it, then don't do anything more for them. But to pretend--no, to fool yourself into thinking--that it's for their own good? That's bullshit. Who are you to know what's best for anyone other than yourself? Who are you to presume to know what other people need? And why do you still insist that some other person, who is hurting you, is worth more than you are? That such a person's needs still come before your own? If you are hurt and scared, why can't you just say "You can't come around here any more because you hurt and scare me."? Why do you have to continue to sublimate yourself to them? So, let's talk about poor people. Gods come disguised as them--a one-eyed beggar or a wandering preacher. Poor people. We have a superstition in America that says, if you only try hard enough, you can succeed. And just like the fools who pick up pennies thinking it will make them lucky, enough of us are fortunate enough to reinforce the belief in the superstition. I am successful. I think. I have a roof over my head and food in the fridge and a job I like in a field I love. I'm not making shitloads of money, but I feel like, barring unforeseen events, if I just keep working hard and living frugally, I can reach my modest goal of financial security and home-ownership. I am not the hardest working person I know. There are a lot of people I know who work a whole lot harder than me who've not gotten the breaks I have. Why am I here, at a computer in a medium sized city on a beautiful sunny Sunday morning with nothing else to do but nurse a hang-over and walk the dog? Why is my best friend from junior high still stuck in that same piddly little town with two kids and a jackass boyfriend? Do I deserve this life more than she does? No I don't. You can't tell by looking at my paycheck or the car I drive or the fancy words I can put on a screen what my value is as a human being. I am not worth more than any of my friends, just because my life turned out like this. We are each immeasurably beyond worth. Often, when we talk about what to do about poor people, we operate under the assumption that, by this point in American history, people are poor because they want to be, because they aren't trying very hard to make it. And because they "want" to be poor, they don't deserve anything from us. For their own good, so that they are forced to rise up out of poverty, we need to stop helping them. I can't accept that. I don't believe that anyone knows better than me what I need and I refuse to believe that I know better than another what she needs. But I also believe it is an affront to do nothing. A grave insult to do nothing. But to whom? One could make an argument that it's a grave affront to the Christian god. But how then to motivate non-Christians to help? One could argue that it's insulting to the community that we would turn our backs on other community members. But in a country that believes so strongly in the myth of the individual, how does one even begin to talk about communal responsibility? I guess one could say that it's a long tradition that richer people take care of poorer people, and not doing so is an affront to tradition, but when so many people in this country think that the types of heterosexual marriages we have right now are in keeping with thousands of years old tradition, it's obvious to me that "tradition" has nothing to do with historical accuracy and everything to do with justifying our discomfort. And one could say that it's an affront to posterity, that we were so wealthy and hoarded it instead of making things better for our children. But why are future children more important than current children living right now? And what if conservatives are right and the help isn't really helping, but actually harming people? Here's where I ended up last night, in this bleak spot. There IS NO REASON to help poor people. There's no one who really matters all that much who is going to hold you accountable for your failure to help. Even if you try to help, you're probably fucking up most of their lives worse. And if you can live with that, fine. I'm tired of fighting with you. It's obvious to me that my belief--that we have to do whatever we can--is insane. It makes no sense on its surface and it makes no sense after innumerable beers and it makes no sense after laying up all night thinking about it. You all are right. It makes no logical sense to help people who seemingly refuse to help themselves. But here's the thing. I can't live with that. Because the world does not operate according to logic alone. Often, love interferes and works its madness. And that's what I choose. Loving madness. I will reach out and help. I will insist that my government continue to throw money at the problem. I will demand that we continue to do something, even if it's not the right thing, because, if we keep doing what we hope is best, we make room for miracles. We make room for love to work its insanity. If we do nothing, because that's the only logical response, then there can be no miracles. And I refuse to accept that.