Imagine, if you will, a nation divided by race and dominated by the wealthy upper-crust of society. That’s not very hard, you live in it. Now imagine exploring it from the eyes of a child. That’s Toni Cade Bambara’s “The Lesson.”
Especially if you’re white, you probably remember a specific set of doctrines learned from your childhood. The United States is a democracy, money comes from hard work, and poverty is the product of laziness. If you didn’t learn it in the classroom, you learned it in the national anthem, in gated neighborhoods where the roads don’t run straight, and in hands holding cardboard signs by highway exits. This is normal. You shouldn’t be angry. Just keep moving. Stay in your place.
The field trip that Ms. Moore leads refutes this by crossing the usually unspoken boundaries. She wants the kids to be angry, and so she leads them to a toy store full of decadent wonders. When she suggests they go into the extravagant store, Sylvia thinks she’s “got as much right as anybody” (113) to enter the toy store, but “somehow I can’t seem to get hold of the door” (113). It’s this contradiction between what’s theoretically true and whats realistically true that causes the anger. The kids walk “on tiptoe” (113) in fear of something undefined. In other words, a class and race boundary. They are somewhere society says they don’t belong. A place where a simple toy sailboat is given the same value as a year’s worth of food for all the children present. A place made for people with that kind of resources to spare.
Sugar, one of the children, reaches the crux of the expedition. “I think that this is not much of a democracy if you ask me” (115). Sugar is right. The United States, a self-proclaimed democracy, may be the wealthiest country in the world, but close to half of all Americans cannot afford a $400 emergency. Three individuals hold as much wealth as the lower half of the country, while these same wealthy elite buy our politicians and silence what should be majority rule. If Bambara’s critiques were relevant in 1972, they’re now more true than ever before.
The emphasis on the words “stay in your place” I feel like are so blatant in everyday life that we don’t even see it anymore. From lunch tables at op, to football game crowds, to even who stands together after school, it can almost be seen as “scary” to cross into other groups of people (especially at this time) and I think that totally needs to be acknowledged more.
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Exactly, these unspoken boundaries permeate society at every level and they need to be addressed.
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ELIJAH!!!!! The boat made me think of you. Thank you for the Bernie Sanders preaching at the end LOL. Anyways, I agree with what you and Sugar had to say. It’s a strange line to walk between acknowledging your privilege, and tokenizing/ostracizing people who are in other (and usually lower) socioeconomic classes than your own. Within Oak Park we see these layered divisions, which seem hard to cross. Again, our school feels segregated as multiple buildings because of the racism as a byproduct of tracking. I think having conversations about these boundaries is the best solution, because pity is dehumanizing (according to Benjamin). Of course, legislative action would be nice and profound as well – but the senate doesn’t seem to think so.
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ZOE!!!! I love that the boat made you think of me. I totally agree, Oak Park has those same divisions, but it likes to pretend it doesn’t and that it’s better than that, which gives the community a condescending and hypocritical feel sometimes. Also I’m honored, if I can successfully channel Bernie Sanders, then I must be doing something right.
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Wow you really put a picture in my head. Great observations and findings in the text.
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The opening statement describing the white American experience is really creates a new perspective for anyone your post. Great work.
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