Poverty’s Incentives
The simple tools that can be used to eliminate poverty.
On the campus of the elite Holy Cross University, Vanessa Blake sat under a large Oak tree, on one of many concrete benches. Her bag of books rested on a large square-shaped concrete table, half covering the red and black checker’s board painted on top. Watching the leaves fall to the ground with the help of a gentle breeze, her thoughts on what she is going to write for her thesis.
A young woman from her Psychology class sat down on the concrete bench facing her, pulling her thoughts away. Vanessa smiled at her.
“I need to talk to you,” she demands, throwing back her long blond hair on her shoulders. “My name is Ingrid Sutherland and you are in all my classes for the past four years.”
Vanessa shrugged her shoulders and said, “Sure.”
“I want to know, how can you beat all of us in all of your classes, with your disability?”
Vanessa eased her head back and asks, “I am disabled?”
“Well, you are black,” she responds.
“Oh,” Venessa said straightening up, taking her bag off the table and putting it beside her. “I am poor too,” she added.
“That’s your second disability. My father said being born black disables you. How is it possible that you are beating all the white children here? How? I know you won a scholarship because you are only one of five blacks here.”
Vanessa went into her bag, took a notebook and pen out, then hands it to her saying, “Take these life lessons down. You see, my poverty didn’t give me the choices your wealth gave you, so I create my own.”
“How do you create your own choices?” she asks, taking the notebook and pen, putting them on the table in front of her.
“You said my birth, race, and poverty are my disabilities?”
She nodded.
“My grandmother, mother, and poverty teach many lessons that your wealth doesn’t know about. You see, I am from Jamaica.”
“That poor, ah?”
“When you have a headache, what do you do?”
“I go to the doctor, doesn’t everyone?” Ingrid said with a look that says, ‘dah’.
“Not us, we are too poor, so we find herbs. We drink Peppermint, Ginger, Rosemary tea, or Coffee we grow and grind ourselves. My grandmother would wrap rosemary leaves in a piece of white cloth around her head, then relax for a while. I can identify a lot of herbs and which herb is used for what. We have a rich history of herbal cures and remedies. Lessons learned. How to heal and cure myself naturally, without chemicals or side effects. Since these herbs are grown across Jamaica, it’s free. You aren’t writing?” Venessa said.
Her eyes popped open as she grabbed the notebook and scribbles down something.
Venessa continues, “When you are hungry, what do you do?”
“We have a chef that prepared the finest meals for us. If we want to be dangerous, we order take out,” she brags.
“We are our own chefs, and many of the foods we eat, we grow ourselves. I know when most foods are fit and ready to be picked. I know which spice or herb goes with meat or vegetables. I know what nutrients I get from everything I eat. I can kill and pluck a chicken in less than ten minutes. I can kill a goat, remove his hide, dry it, and use it to make Congo drums. The same goes for pigs. Lessons learned, how to cook early, which is healthier, more economical and I could get a job as a chef or an herbalist.”
But you are in the USA, not Jamaica,” she remarks.
“All of our foods are here, and since Florida and Jamaica have the same climate, all of us have our own backyard garden.”
“Ok, what about hunger. I know your country is a poor country.”
“Well, hunger teaches us self-control, strength, it builds our willpower and teaches us how to plan and economize.”
“How does hunger teach anyone how to plan?”
“Easy, when my Mom cooks, we don’t eat it all at once. We plan for the next day, especially when we have food in abundance. We stretch it out if it can go. Thus, I picked up another skill. I could get a job as an economist.”
“Clothes, what if you have none.”
“My mom had six of us, so we wear lots of hand-me-downs. My grandmother is a seamstress. She teaches all her grandchildren to sew. She alters all our clothes. Growing up we design and sew everything we wear. We imitate all the fashion designers. Yes, my Spring ball dress was made by my sister. That’s another skill I picked up from poverty. I can be a fashion designer or a seamstress. We also learn how to fix our own shoes. That art, none of us mastered.”
“Your hair? You are always in braids.”
“We do each other’s hair and learn to cut our brothers’ hair too. Another skill picked up, Barber and Hairdresser.”
“Our maid Daphne is from Jamaica, and she talks about lots of water lock-offs.”
“We learn to plan?”
“How?”
“On Fridays after school, we all rush home. If water is there, then three of us wash all the uniforms. If no water is coming from the pipe, a river is nearby. Then Saturday, the other three do the ironing. My mom encourages unity among her children and teaches us to think economically.”
“Daphne talks about blackouts and power cuts?”
“We use coal iron. That also teaches us organization skills and planning too.”
“While you were busy learning all that, when did you find time for school?”
“Girl, which world do you live in. Life lessons are taught every day, in everything we do.”
“Damn! She cried. “You make your poor country sound like heaven.”
“It is.”
“Then why come here?”
“You got to taste hell to appreciate heaven girl.”
“Discrimination, I know all blacks face that here. Yet you act as if life was easy with your disability.”
“Discrimination doesn’t affect us, immigrants from the poorer countries no matter the race.”
“And why not?”
“Being born in a poor country a fight for life begins at birth and ends at death. In poor countries, there is no way. In this country, there is an easy way and a hard way. Whichever way you choose, you will be paid accordingly. So, when discrimination comes our way it’s just another obstacle, and to a fighter, that’s nothing compared to what they have faced in their country. Plus, we will be fighting with hope. When discrimination is up against hope, hope wins every time for most of us. The world sees HOPE in America, and compared to theirs, it’s heaven. Plus, what you do to us, is nothing compared to what our own people have done to us. So, girl, bring it on.”
“Poverty isn’t destroying your people as the world thinks. If anything, it makes you stronger, more resourceful, and efficient than us. But many of you are still poor.”
“Yes, but that will work for the ones who don’t intend to stay poor, thus using their lessons poverty taught them to beat it.”
“But with all of your disability, your people are still stronger.”
“Yes, life strengthens us. Food, money, title, privilege, and power strengthens your people. That’s why when your money is gone, so is you.”
She sighs then said, “I still don’t get it, with all of the laws set up to prevent progress, immigrants tend to do better than many blacks and some whites here.”
“My grandfather says, the first person you must know in your life, is yourself. Then the second is your surroundings and the people who live there. He said we must pick out the negative and find ways to change it while strengthening our positives. The third is our world. Take the time to know your world. We learn that we are living in an unstable country. He said we can follow the instability to hell or learn from it and create our own heaven.”
“Now I see why your people managed to survive despite all of the obstacles you face daily. Don’t you ever wish you were white?”
“Hell no!” Vanessa cried out. “I like my black skin and self. Being born poor and black isn’t a disability for me, it’s an incentive. I learn to fight life, so whatever life throws at me, I can handle it without falling. And if I do, my fighting spirit will give me the strength to rise again. Poverty forces me to be a jack of many trades. I can fix almost everything around our house. Poverty makes me resourceful, efficient, innovative, self-reliant; it gives me endurance and strength. Poverty teaches me self-discipline. It also makes me responsible, smart, and educated. Poverty taught me how to survive the odds. That’s why I manage to excel despite all my disabilities. Plus, if I was white, I wouldn’t have the knowledge, strength, and ingenuity I have now. Wealth would deny me of many things I have and know now.”
In shock, Ingrid said, “Poverty teaches you all of that. And with your brilliance, you will end up with the best of both worlds. Wealth has taught us fear. I fear failure. I fear the unknown. I fear the competition. I fear death. I fear life sometimes,” she relates sadly.
“Sorry for that dear, but all of your fears, and with all that money your family has is wasted. Live and enjoy what you got, while it last,” Vanessa suggested.
“You aren’t afraid of life?”
“Sorry, I am so busy fighting life and poverty, I don’t have the time to be afraid of anything or anyone.”
Silence steal in as Ingrid absorbs the power in the words of someone she was raised to look down on.
“What would you do if your family lose all of their money?” Vanessa asks.
Fear spread across Ingrid’s face darkening it. Vanessa’s eyes were pulled towards the sun, which was still shining.
“Relax Girl,” Vanessa calmly said. “Being born into poverty is good. If you fall, you know exactly where you will land, thus making restart easier. Being born into wealth doesn’t give you that knowledge and strength poverty does.”
The color returned to her face as she struggles to push back her fears, then said, “I can’t imagine my life being poor.”
“If you survive, you will be stronger,” Vanessa assures her.
She nods, “I envy your strength, and how you turn your disabilities into strength. I couldn’t survive in your shoes for a second. I am sorry for the way I think. I was brought up that way. All the things you mentioned you have against my race. All we have against you is unity. Unity is our weapon against your race. If your race unites, you will be stronger and disintegrate us.”
“No, we won’t. My race just wants equality and to live and let live.”
Silence visited for a minute as Ingrid absorbs some life lessons and a reality check.
She asks, “Can I write about you and your life for my Thesis? I find your life interesting. I knew about poverty, but I didn’t know about the other side.”
“What other side?”
“The side that beats poverty and the weapons used.”
“Can I write about yours?”
She nodded and they shook hands on it.
What would happen to our world if humanity should unite? Would inequality, discrimination, segregation, racism, poverty, and hatred still exist?
These are some of the lessons I learned from poverty. These lessons have contributed to my success and my ability to stay out of poverty. I am not wealthy, but I am not poor either and I am satisfied with that.
Poverty and Wealth travel on different roads and teach different lessons. And sometimes, they meet and exchange places.
Thank you for reading this piece. I hope you enjoyed it. Please enjoy more from some superb writers on this platform.
https://mediumauthor.com/@thisisanneliselords
https://mediumauthor.com/podcast
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