I was miffed, as only an only child could be, about sharing my mother’s time with the neighbor girl. I watched my mother put on her best Diana Ross “ Mahogany” outfit: a camel colored cape with matching slacks and knee high boots. The woman had been denied in the genteel bureaucratic way - lots of waiting, forms, and deadlines she could not quite navigate. The elderly woman had been denied benefits to care for the granddaughter she was raising. I remember my mother taking a next door neighbor down to the social service agency. We loaned that privilege out to folks a lot. We could, as my grandfather would say, talk like white folks.
Consequently, my grandmother and mother had a particular set of social resources that helped us navigate mostly white bureaucracies to our benefit. We were big readers and we encouraged the girl children, especially, to go to some kind of college. But perhaps the greatest resource we had was a bit more education. We had a little of that kind of rural black wealth so we were often in a position to help folks less fortunate. That’s how generational wealth happens where I’m from: lose a leg, a part of your spine, die right and maybe you can lease-to-own a modular home. If you were really blessed when a relative died with a paid up insurance policy you might be gifted a lump sum to buy the land that Jim Walters used as collateral to secure your home lease. We had a little luck when a male relative got extra military pay when they came home a paraplegic or used the VA to buy a Jim Walter house (pdf). We were those good poors, the kind who live mostly within our means. I grew up watching my great-grandmother, and later my grandmother and mother, use our minimal resources to help other people make ends meet. We have rural Southern roots, moved north and almost all have returned. My family is a classic black American migration family. And nothing is more logical than trying to survive.
One thing I’ve learned is that one person’s illogical belief is another person’s survival skill. If you are poor, why do you spend money on useless status symbols like handbags and belts and clothes and shoes and televisions and cars?
It is, I suspect, an honest expression of incredulity. His is a belief held by many people, including lots of black people, poor people, formerly poor people, etc. To be fair, this isn’t about Eroll Louis. They do things like buy expensive designer belts and $2500 luxury handbags. First, they insist on being poor when it is so easy to not be poor.
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