MARLA'S MUSINGS COLUMN: Yep, I'm 'White Trash,' and proud of it
By Marla Buchanan
"White trash, "trailer trash"…Many times I’ve heard these expressions used in a conversation, and I’ve always hated those words. Labels that define the existence of a certain sector of our society that does not live in expensive homes, have six-figure incomes, or only shops at the mall.
Yep, I’m "white trash," and for a brief period over this summer I lived in a run-down trailer in southern Illinois. My place was a dump, but it was clean. I lived on the "south side of the south side" of Mount Vernon, on Twenty -Second Street, to be exact. The south side of Mount Vernon is where the "undesirables" live—the minorities and public housing, poor "white trash" in their (often) tiny older houses and worn-out trailers.
Various circumstances transplanted my children and me to the Mount Vernon area at the end of June. I almost did not return to IVCC, as a result. Never did I expect that my summer would include an intensive field-study of human nature and uncover hope that was long ago buried.
I discovered that fear motivates hate--fear of the loss of a job, bankruptcy, a fancy home, nice car, and other "stuff." Some people almost worship their stuff. They keep a death grip on it even though it only makes them sink deeper in complacency until they drown. The loss of their stuff would make them "undesirable"(i.e. social lepers).
Many people don’t realize that they are only breath away from poverty. A person could have a PhD. and still end up homeless. No one is immune.
Strip away the stuff and you are forced to rely on hope. Without hope we are all zombies—some are just better dressed. You could say that I was "touched by an angel."
A rainbow of angels with bare feet who loved to play hide n’ seek among the fireflies—who looked beyond their circumstances and reached out to this northerner with love and acceptance.
A sense of compassion is the only thing that can be securely carried throughout life. It breaks down social barriers, and transforms lives.
No matter how much education I am able to attain, or if I ever experience fame as a writer, I hope that I am always "white trash." I hope that I will never forget what its like to wonder how I will pay the rent each month, using the Link card among a check-out line full of disapproving glances and whispered comments, or forgoing the purchase of new underwear for me to buy my son new shoes for school.
May I never step over a homeless man like he is merely a crack in the sidewalk. May I never forget that beating hearts occupy soup kitchens, missions, and public housing. Dirt washes off easily with soap and water. Hatred is indelible.
Some people might be asking themselves, "Where did that controversial columnist go? (She’s still here, but every once in awhile she needs to trim her horns and polish up her halo).