COLUMN: "The Luckiest People"

From Brian Newberry's "A Thousand Words," Fall '92 His life story is a mixed bag of misfortune and irresponsibility on his part. The net result is a life on the streets of West Philadelphia as an alcoholic and a crack addict, begging for money in front of Wawas and scrounging for food in the dumpster behind McDonalds. I don't know who is to "blame" for Johnnie's state of being, and to be honest I don't really care. Throwing blame around doesn't solve anything. Homelessness in America has exploded in the last twenty tears. There are many reasons for this phenomenon, including government apathy, the closing of mental institutions, an increase in the poverty rate, a breakdown of traditional morals and the popularity of hard drug use. I have heard bleeding-heart liberals claim that "it is all the government's fault," and I have heard heartless conservavtives deny any societal responsibility at all while lambasting poor "family values." Frankly, I am sick of this idiotic debate and I am sick of absolutes being bandied about as though no one has heard of the concept of shared responsibility. I am sick of simplistic solutions that involve pouring more federal money down the toilet or, conversely, relying on a "thousand points of light." I refuse to believe that government has no role to play in aiding the poor and the destitute, but I also refuse to let the concept of personal responsibility be restricted to the middle class. How many of you have become completely desensitized to the homeless people in this area? How many of you have come to accept their lives as merely another facet of your surroundings without a thought as to the horror of it all? I'll admit I have. It is only when I go away and return to West Philly that I notice the homeless like Johnnie. Even then, the feeling of disgust -- that feeling that somehow people sleeping in subway stations is a sight that shouldn't be seen in the richest land on earth -- doesn't last. We at Penn tend to become immune to our surroundings. This newspaper is the central voice for everyone here, and what you see and read in it is in large part a good indication of our community's feelings. Twice in the past two years the 'DP' has drawn criticism for publishing decent photographs of homeless people which unfortunately ran with less than thoughtful captions. These incidents were unintentional and not meant to be offensive, but in the context of our ivory tower community they were far from isolated. They do not reflect on the people responsible so much as they reflect on our student body as a whole. When it comes to broad societal issues this page has not exactly been a bastion of intelligent discourse either, as anyone who reads it regularly would know. And that is not just a recent trend. The 'DP' has always had its share of op-ed pieces and letters which read like they had been penned by four year olds -- you ought to read the ones that never get printed. I remember a columnist my freshman year who thought it was funny to make fun of some of the more recognizable homeless people on campus. He drew some much deserved criticism but I am sure that many readers probably were secretly amused by what he wrote even while denouncing his insensitivity. I am not trying to stand on a soapbox. I do not consider myself to be any more or less guilty then the average Penn student of turning a blind eye to the urban problems we see every day. It is simply too easy -- and comforting, but that doesn't make it right. As I near graduation the significance has begun to dawn on me. At the risk of sounding arrogant let me point out this fact: We are students at the University of Pennsylvania, one of the best schools in the world no matter how much we criticize it at times. We are the smartest, most educated, most fortunate, and best hope for the future that this nation has to offer. We are not simply the next generation but we are the leaders of that generation, in every sense of the word and in every facet of life from government to business to education. Homelessness, poverty, racism and their attendant societal ills are being dumped into our laps. Whether we want the responsibility or not it is ours. Faced with this fact we cannot allow ourselves to be as ignorant and narrow minded as too many of us exhibit. There are of course many people who could care less about their neighbors so long as they get theirs. I pity them, for their lives will ultimately be empty. Whether through luck, upbringing, conscience, or an understanding of the dependant interactions in any society, I am not one of them, and I have enough faith in humanity to hope that I am in the majority. I am one of the luckiest people on earth -- all of us at this school are though we rarely act like it. I will not apologize for that fact nor will I feel guilty about it as some leaders of the political left would insist. But I do recognize and accept that because of the position I was fortunate enough to be given, that I have an obligation to share my energy to help others, like Jonnie, who were not so lucky. I have no idea how to "solve" the homeless problem. I sometimes doubt if there even is a solution. One thing I do know is that simplistic answers are nearly always wrong. Shared responsibility and shared solutions are the only reasonable approach to reducing the number of people like Johnnie on our streets. None of our societal problems is simple, and none of them can be painted in black and white terms, though our politics usually lead us to do so. Nearly all political views contain some grain of truth. The national debate about our cities, welfare, homelessness, drugs and other concerns is and always has been rife with division. I hope that our generation can become the first one to break the liberal/conservative stereotypes and maybe, just maybe, find some real consensus. If this vision is ever to become a reality, it is not going to happen because others put it into practice. It will happen because we, the best prepared of our generation, make the effort to acheive it. Brian Newberry is a senior Urban Studies and American History major from Wallingford, Connecticut. "A Thousand Words" appears alternate Tuesdays.