No Wait, The Country is .
. . .
A News Report One Wishes Were Made Up
[Editor's note: Frequently news reporters embellish or exaggerate the details in their stories to make a stronger point or make the story more attractive and interesting. This is a deplorable practice, but in this case one truly hopes that is the case with respect to the Washington Post story this post is based on. If that story is factual it is a terrible tragedy.]
[Editor's note: Frequently news reporters embellish or exaggerate the details in their stories to make a stronger point or make the story more attractive and interesting. This is a deplorable practice, but in this case one truly hopes that is the case with respect to the Washington Post story this post is based on. If that story is factual it is a terrible tragedy.]
Despite its attempts
to convert itself into a newspaper that caters and fawns to the
Conservative elite, every now and then the Washington Post comes up with real
journalism. Here
is a story on poverty and desperation among children in one of the poorer
regions of the world.
Kids make their way off the bus after eating their lunch on the Lunch Express bus. (Michael S. Williamson/The Washington Post) |
It was the first day of summer in a place where summers
had become hazardous to a child’s health, so the school bus rolled out of the
parking lot on its newest emergency route. It passed by the church steeples of
downtown and curved into the blue hills of Appalachia .
The highway became two lanes. The two lanes turned to red dirt and gravel. On
the dashboard of the bus, the driver had posted an aphorism. “Hunger is
hidden,” it read, and this bus had been dispatched to find it.
The bus was empty except for a box of plastic silverware
and three oversize coolers that sat on green vinyl seats. Inside each cooler
were 25 sack lunches, and inside each sack was what the federal government had
selected on this day as the antidote to a growing epidemic of childhood hunger
— 2 ounces of celery sticks, 4 ounces of canned oranges, chocolate milk
and a bologna sandwich, each meal bought with $3.47 in taxpayer money.
On the outside of the bus, the familiar yellow-and-black
design had been modified with the bold lettering of the U.S. economy in
2013: “Kids Eat FREE!”
Yes, our Appalachia, in this case the area outside of
Greeneville , Tennessee .
The problem, this.
Here, in the rural hills of Tennessee , is the latest fallout of a
recession that officially ended in 2009 but remains without end for so many.
More than 1 in 4 children now depend on government food assistance, a record
level of need that has increased the federal budget and changed the nature of
childhood for the nation’s poor.
And for those who say we are already doing enough,
there is this.
First, schools became the country’s biggest soup
kitchens, as free and reduced-price lunch programs expanded to include free
breakfast, then free snacks and then free backpacks of canned goods sent home
for weekends. Now those programs are extending into summer, even though classes
stop, in order for children to have a dependable source of food. Some
elementary school buildings stay open year-round so cafeterias can serve
low-income students. High schools begin summer programs earlier to offer free
breakfast.
So now in the United States in order to feed
people food banks have to buy old school buses, load them up with lunches and
take them to the hungry children.
. . . earlier this year, a food bank in Tennessee came up with a
plan to reverse the model. Instead of relying on children to find their own
transportation to summer meal sites, it would bring food to children. The food
bank bought four used school buses for $4,000 each and designed routes that
snake through some of the most destitute land in the country, where poverty
rates have almost doubled since 2009 and two-thirds of children qualify for
free meals.
And for those politicians that think we spend too
much in this area, there is this message.
A 5-year-old girl saw the dust trail of the bus and pedaled
toward it on a red tricycle. Three teenage boys came barefoot in swimsuits. A
young mother walked over from her trailer with an infant daughter in one arm
and a lit cigarette in the other. “Any chance there will be leftover food for
adults?” she asked.
It was almost 1 p.m. For some, this would be the first meal of
the day. For others, the last.
And yes, one of the leading opponents of food aid is
a Congressman from Tennessee ,
whose family farm gets tens of thousands of dollars in farm support payments.
No comments:
Post a Comment