College Matters

One of the most poignant discoveries I made during my year of AmeriCorps service is the concept of poverty extending far beyond racial divisions. Prior to my year of service, I lived in Lubbock, Texas, the epitome of racially defined income class constructs. With few - if any! - exceptions, all of the African-American residents live on one side of town - the poor side. The houses are falling apart, streets are all cracked and strewn with potholes, and the drainage is so terrible that every time it rains the entire side of the town reeks. Caucasian residents live on the other side of town - the affluent side. There are certainly different degrees of affluence, but without exception, that side of Lubbock consists of middle class and up. Nothing below. The college, Texas Tech, echoes this division in a way; if you see a person of color on the Texas Tech campus, you can almost guarantee that he or she is either a) an athlete or b) from another country.

The first six months I lived in Lubbock, I was completely confused. I moved to Lubbock from Huntsville, Texas, a prison town that is extremely diverse in both population and income class distribution. Huntsville has the interesting distinction of being both a college town and a prison town, so the two major employers are the Texas State Prison System and Sam Houston State University. Employees for both come in all colors, and they live next door to one another. I arrived in Lubbock, and during that first six months I didn’t see an African American, at all. It was bizarre. I thought that perhaps the town entirely consisted of Caucasians with a few Hispanic-Americans. Then, one day, I got lost, and ended up on the east side of Lubbock. Lo and behold, I discovered a different color palette…and discovered a lot of poverty.

After living in Lubbock for six years, my mind had unhappily adjusted to the notion of poverty being inextricably linked to race. I had certainly known both poor and rich people of all colors, growing up in Houston, but I began to think that this was only the case in the urban environment.

Then I moved to Belfast, Maine. Belfast, the county seat of Waldo County, is a small community, with about 6,000 year round residents. During tourism season we have more than that, but no one pays any attention to the tourists. Belfast just pays attention to their money! Belfast’s population is predominantly Caucasian, as is most of Maine. Even Portland, the biggest city, has little racial diversity. My college roommate, Shamyra Pope, would jokingly generalize that it’s because African Americans aren’t crazy enough to live somewhere as cold as Maine. Generally in Belfast when you meet a person of color, he or she was adopted into a Caucasian family as an infant.

Waldo County happens to have quite a bit of poverty, too. Obviously it has nothing to do with race; in fact, adopted kids of all colors often come from wealthier families, because it takes quite a bit of financial chutzpah to adopt an infant in the first place. Waldo County, despite the tourism industry, remains an overwhelmingly impoverished rural county. There are people who live in this county that have no running water. Granted, that’s exceptional, but it does exist. Other examples of poverty are much more widespread. Some people have gas heating but can’t afford the gas. Living in a place where temperatures falls significantly below zero degrees Fahrenheit in the winter, that’s a problem. Another example: many, many children are on the free-lunch program at school, and that’s often the best or only meal they get per day. The Game Loft, where I served as a VISTA (and where I continue to volunteer) aims to change that, offering all children who walk through the door a full and nutritious meal. This is essential in the summer, while school is not in session.

This has all drastically altered the face of poverty for me; it has been truly transformational. In light of this eye-opening experience, I’d like to post the following advice, dealing with racism - it’s reminiscent of things I saw in high school, in Houston. A person from Nigeria attends school in the U.S., and is accused of being a “traitor” by other African American students, because this person has Caucasian friends.