I wish our policy makers could take a lesson from Isabella, my ten-year-old neighbor. We would again have the kind and caring communities we once knew.
Last Monday evening, Isabella shows up at the door smiling, with a warm loaf of banana bread she had just baked for us. I couldn't resist slicing off pieces to share with her, and as we chatted, I asked her to thank her mother for bringing in our garbage containers, to which she replied, "That was me. I jumped out of the car coming home from school and brought them in."
Many of us, including policymakers, grew up in homes like Isabella's, where we learned from our parents how to be kind and care for each other. As a society, we created a host of philanthropic institutions to perpetuate those values — schools; churches; and civic and community organizations. Americans have always cared for those in need — widows and children, our elderly and those with special needs. We built orphanages for children, like St. Ann's on 2100 South and 500 East, rest homes for the elderly and programs to help widows stay home to care for their children — a family policy. Philanthropy in America grew out of concern for one's neighbor and born out of deep values held about caring for each other. It's the humanitarian value that defines the American character.
As our society has become more complex and mobile, our sense of community has waned, become more impersonal and more self absorbed. Our communities today are more segmented by income; the old saying, "the poor will always be with us," may be true, except now they are out of sight, and some might even be our neighbors. Policymakers and those holding power in our communities are more likely to have limited contact with those in need. Some lawmakers see the plight of the needy — children, the elderly, the widowed and the disabled — as the result of the choices they have made about their lives.
We have policymakers believing in the principle that those who take tax dollars need to pay it back. Lawmakers are now planning to require Medicaid participants to do volunteer work as a way of "paying back." What about CEO's that take tax subsidies; should they not also be required to do volunteer work? Another lawmaker is proposing to eliminate the 10 cents a month surcharge on customers' utilities to help those with low-incomes calling it "forced charity." What we used to call "help" for the poor such as Medicaid, today some call "entitlements" and say it takes away limited resources from education. It speaks volumes about our values. The poor among us have not changed but our common values have.
We are losing our sense of the common good, "the general welfare" found in the Preamble of our Constitution. Greed seems to be creeping in to our policies, and the fear of losing material things is overtaking caring, compassion and giving without demeaning those less fortunate. Some policymakers seem more eager to punish and judge those in need, than have empathy and show compassion.
In the end, the cost of caring for those in need is not our greatest loss, rather the values that bind us together — our humanity — that may be the greatest loss.
Let us all take a lesson from Isabella.
A Utah native, John Florez has founded several Hispanic civil rights organizations; been on the staff of Sen. Orrin Hatch; served on more than 45 state, local and volunteer boards; and filled White House appointments, including deputy assistant secretary of labor and as a member of the commission on Hispanic education. E-mail: jdflorez@comcast.net