US in denial as poverty rises
" The most affluent fifth of the population received half of all
household income last year. The poorest fifth got 3.5 per cent."
Next door to Yale, the bastion of privilege that turns
out the land's leaders, lies a tent city of America's
poor, huddled masses. Ed Vulliamy reports on the
rise in inequality as the nation prepares to vote
Sunday November 3, 2002
The Observer
The north wind cuts cold and sudden across the historic green
of New Haven. It blows through the 'tent city' where the
homeless huddle. And it blows round the spires and
quadrangles of Yale University, one of America's richest Ivy
League colleges.
The contrast is stark: Charlene Johnson, three months pregnant,
emerges from her bivouac, worrying about the winter that lies
between her and her due date. And all around are Yale's stone
walls, elegant colonial churches and smart people walking past
boutiques and coffee shops, carrying their course books.
'You know what's underneath you?' challenges Rod Cleary, who
was released from prison in Los Angeles after a conviction for
gang fighting, found but lost a job in New Haven, and has now
been evicted. 'I'll tell ya: bones. This green was a cemetery
once; you're sitting on a pauper's grave. And, man, that's what
it's going to be again if we ain't careful.'
Charlene fell behind with her rent in June and took a bribe of
$200 to move out of her digs, so the landlord could hike up the
price. 'It seemed like I had some money for once, and it was
summer.' Her son Nikolas was billeted with a friend and
Charlene started looking for a place with her boyfriend, Scott,
hopefully before the cold set in. Without success - Scott was
laid off on Wednesday from a construction firm. 'Not enough
work,' he says. 'And once you're out, you're a speck of dirt on
the ground, and they walk over you.'
New Haven's tent city was established after the authorities
closed down a homeless overflow shelter a few weeks ago. At
sundown yesterday it was to be cleared by the police, with
Charlene, Scott, Rod and 150 others sent on their way into what
promises to be a vicious winter.
New Haven is a metaphor for the America which on Tuesday
elects its Senate and House of Representatives. It is the
country's fourth poorest city, where the ghetto laps at the walls
of a university worth $11 billion (£7bn) in tax-exempt
endowments, educating America's next generation of rulers. A
sign at the freeway turn-off advertises New Haven as the
birthplace of President George Bush.
It is a city with the same infant mortality rate as Malaysia and a
terrifying rate of deaths from Aids - one day care centre alone
commemorated the loss of 600 clients at a memorial service on
Wednesday. But it is located in America' richest state,
Connecticut, which has, proportionally, more millionaires than
any other.
This is the super-rich New York hinterland for those too wealthy
even to feel the pinch on Wall Street. It is called the 'Zebra
Coast', laid out in strips of black/white, black/white; poor/rich,
poor/rich. And in New Haven the polarity is underpinned by the
history of Yale University's engagement in the slave trade -
currently being excavated by some of its own students.
'New Haven,' says the Rev David Lee of Varick Church in the
city's northwestern ghetto, 'is a microcosm of America. It's the
vicious cycle between rich and poor and the system of
exploitation. The wealth is in your face all the time, something
you can never aspire to. It's like being a kid in a candy store,
being told you can look but you can't never have a lollipop.'
The mall downtown, on the 'wrong' side of the green, is a ghost
mall; just a few 'hoodrats' hanging around Cross Flava records
and security guards to keep them in order. 'Folks who commute
to work,' says the boy behind the counter, 'they spend where
they live. And the people who live here don't have anything to
spend.'
Statistics released last month by the government census bureau
show that for the first time in 10 years the number of people
caught in the poverty trap has suddenly increased.
Unemployment is up from 4.2 per cent in 2000 to 5.7 per cent
last year. While the middle class shrinks, the numbers living
below the official poverty line of $18,104 a year for a family of
four has shot up to 33 million - from 11.3 to 11.7 per cent. That's
the first increase since 1992.
While President Bush's windfall tax breaks to the super-rich
breezed through Congress (with Democratic help), the proposed
rise in the minimum wage is frozen.
The proportion of children without health cover has increased
from 63.8 per cent to 67.1 per cent. The poverty rate for children
in the US is worse than in 19 'rich' countries, according to a
study by the University of Michigan.
Income statistics showed the first significant decline in average
income among blacks in two decades; the white average also
fell, and only Hispanics maintained their level.
Statisticians are struck by differences between this dive and the
usual downward turns that accompany recessions. 'The poor are
trailing further behind than in the past,' says Robert Greenstein
of the Centre on Budget and Policy Priorities in Washington.
'The increase in poverty is likely to be larger in 2002.'
Such is the power of money in Connecticut and its neighbours
that the North-East was the only region in the country in which
the mean income did not decline. But the price was paid here
where Elm Street, after skirting the mock-Oxbridge walls and
towers of Yale, twists abruptly into New Haven's own nightmare.
Students have been given special maps, and advice not to
venture past the CITGO gas station, where the ghetto begins.
Houses are boarded up and gas stations take cash only -
payable up front - and have bullet-proof glass and bars at the
pay point. Sandwich and gift card stores also deal in Western
Union money transfers, like the one Carl Robbins is sending
back to his family in Kingston, Jamaica - $150 out of the $650
he grossed this week as a hospital janitor.
At the gas station on Dixwell Avenue, Everton Mayne gets his
money back on a pack of Newport cigarettes because he has
found the same pack down the road four cents cheaper. 'You got
to think about these things,' he cautions.
Monica Osborn works in the operating rooms at Yale and New
Haven Hospital, and in 11 years has increased her wage from $8
to $13 an hour (Connecticut calculates that $17 is the 'liveable
wage'). Recently her son suffered concussion and, although she
works at a hospital, health insurance comes extra and she was
caught out. Her employer docked the cost of treatment from her
wages, leaving her to manage for two months on $300 for a
family of four. 'I can feel it getting worse,' she says. 'Trying to
feed the kids, we all have two, maybe three, jobs. I do hair
braiding to get by.'
Wages at the university are a little better, says Mark Wilson,
who for years worked on the ancillary workforce before becoming
an officer of the hotel and catering workers' union that fought to
close what it calls the 'casual pipeline' whereby the university
would lay off employees the day before it was obliged to take
them on staff.
'I don't actually wipe their butts,' says Wesley Smith, earning
$11 an hour loading a trolley full of students' dirty laundry, 'but I
got to get clean what they wipe off.'
Yale is exempt from paying city taxes, except on commercial
property it owns. But a consortium of community groups asked
the university to donate a single day's interest on its invested
endowment - that's $5.2 million - to the city's public schools. So
far, no response.
'We just wanted some kind of partnership,' says the Rev David
Lee, who - as a graduate of Yale Divinity School - this year
harvested enough signatures to seek election to the university
board. He was seen off by the architect Maya Li, in what was
regarded as a brazen snub to what Lee's church calls 'the host
community'.
Dixwell Avenue is where Lee tries 'to put a bit of hope back in
people's eyes that's just been taken away'. He says: 'I can feel
it, just over the past year; people is sinking back down. It's hard
to keep people off drugs. It's hard to tell people not to go to
crime, when they made that extra effort to straighten out, then
got beaten back down again. I had a man in my congregation
come to me on Sunday saying his daughter who is 13 was
considering suicide.'
There is now a brutally simple barometer of poverty in modern
America: HIV.
At the Immanuel Baptist Church on Chapel Street, a few blocks
from fancy restaurants where the young elite go for dinner, there
was a service with a difference on Wednesday. The Aids
Interfaith Network was commemorating the lives of 600 of its
clients who have died of the disease since it was established 15
years ago.
Some of the congregation were living with HIV, a couple in
wheelchairs; others were those who work with and for them. The
network was set up by a group of churches to fill the abyss
between a dire need and the malfunctioning of America'
commercial healthcare system.
Project director Joyce Poole says: 'Aids has become the
disease of the poor - 80 to 90 per cent of our clients are living
below the poverty level; 15 per cent are homeless; most have
not worked in years. Half are dually diagnosed with HIV and
hepatitis C. If you can't support yourself, you do it by other
means, and those means are often criminal. Most of our clients
have had at least one encounter with the Department of
Corrections.'
Yet Connecticut's Aids prevention budget has just been cut by
30 per cent - due, says America's richest state, to the economic
downturn. 'This is a discourse,' says Poole, 'about poverty.' And
as America prepares to go to the polls, the gap between rich
and poor is widening by the day.
Hard times
· One in 11 families, one in nine Americans, and one in six
children are officially poor.
· The most affluent fifth of the population received half of all
household income last year. The poorest fifth got 3.5 per cent.
· The official poverty line is an income of $18,104 pa (£11,570)
for a family of four. A single parent of two working full-time for a
minimum wage would make $10,712 (£6,846).
· 40 per cent of homeless men are veterans.
· Up to a fifth of America's food, worth $31bn, goes to waste
each year, with 130lb of food per person ending up in landfills.
The Observer Research Unit
guardian.co.uk |
