Dear Mitt,
I feel entitled to call you Mitt.
I was
raised by a single mother who only graduated college when she was 69. My
father never graduated high school. My mother worked three jobs.
Sometimes four. I went to Catholic Schools with scholarship
assistance until I went to public schools. I was taught to work hard.
That if you worked hard people noticed it and helped you out. Hard
work is a good thing. I still work hard, and as an associate professor,
as the author of multiple books that have received some acclaim, one would
think, maybe -- just maybe-- I wouldn't have to worry about my bills.
Nope.
I still do.
And the
fact is, even though I sometimes still struggle to pay my bills, I still pay my
taxes without complaint because I want teachers teaching, construction crews
working, police policing, mailmen delivering the mail, etc -- I want the
government to pay my neighbors to work at these jobs. And if they can't work, whether
disabled or elderly or unemployed because their mill closed to ship jobs
overseas, or their company was taken over by Bain Capital and restructured and
leveraged, and in the restructuring and leveraging, many people were
pink-slipped, because -- let's face it -- cutting jobs saves money, I want them to
not be hungry, I want them to have a place to live.
You see,
Mitt, I've been hungry. And growing up, I lived in a different address
every 2 years or so because rent was hard to make. I know what it's like
to be a kid worrying about where I'll be sleeping. I realize you and your
rich donor friends at that fundraiser don't have that background. I get
it.
I don't
think people are entitled to help. I think people are entitled to help
each other. It's called empathy. It's called compassion. It's
why, even though I still struggle to pay my bills (and I should mention -- I
don't own a house, my car is 7 years old, I'm still paying off federal student
loans that allowed me to get to this high life I have), I give money to
students when I know they're struggling. It's why I give money to
homeless people. In a democracy all citizens have dignity, and the
government needs to help maintain the dignity of the least of its citizens.
I'm sure
you're not reading this. I'm sure you just think here's another guy whining.
I'm not whining. I accept that struggling is a part of living.
More importantly, struggling keeps me in touch with my roots and in touch
with many of my neighbors and students who are also struggling. None of
these struggling individuals I know feel entitled to a hand out. They
feel entitled to hope, and to sustenance enough to recognize whatever chance
tomorrow might present.
And I get
it, Mitt. You and your donors you don't recognize real struggle.
And that's the sad thing. It's the thing that disqualifies you from being
president in this democracy because you can't recognize the dignity in the 47%
you so readily dismiss.
Sincerely,
Gerry LaFemina
Gerry LaFemina is the author of five previous collections of
poetry, including Graffiti Heart (winner of the Anthony Piccione Prize in Poetry), The Window Facing Winter and
The Parakeets of Brooklyn (winner of the Bordighera Prize); two collections of prose poems; and Wish List, a
collection of short stories. A former punk musician and a former member of the
Associated Writing Programs Board of Directors, he directs the Frostburg Center
for Creative Writing at Frostburg State University, where he also teaches. He
divides his time between Maryland and New York.
