Living in America, Pt. 4

I have erased Living in America Pt. 2 and have foregone Pt. 3 after having been reminded that my neighborhood suits me well.

For all my learnin', for all my books, and for all my ethical and intellectual engagements, I sometimes forget that I am no better than my neighbors and my townsfolk. These people are (mostly) hard workers, barely getting by in a country that cares not for them. They make our autoparts, they work the cash registers at our Walmarts, they clean our offices. They come home after a long and unfulfilling day of work, turn their televisions on and thus make the pain of living go away. They detest intellectual snobs, pretensions, and anyone who illustrates the possibility of first and second class citizenship or of upper and lower classes. They claim that they are middle class. They vote Republican not because they want to but because they have to. They were taught in school to believe in America and find in the Democrats a party without any beliefs, and in this they are absolutely correct.

My immediate neighbor, a man with many faults, also gives generously of his time to his neighborhood association, his factory softball team, and though bankrupt, manages to give food and other necessities to a local shelter for abused animals (and God knows, there are plenty of those in my hometown). So I put my complaints aside, maintain my concern for the maintenance of home, and trust to the basic goodness of humanity.