Falling Through Cracks Unseen

By Anonymous / Fall 2020

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. These are words that even children in the US are familiar with. As a direct descendent of the American revolution, I come from a lot of experiences and backgrounds that supported the American dream. I saw the people around me get college degrees, live in comfortable homes, work white-collar jobs and accumulate property and wealth. I turned on the TV and saw children who looked like me in every show I watched.  I was told “you can do anything” and had high standards placed on me to do so. I never worried about money, food or housing. My hobbies in art, music and ballet were funded, and I was surrounded by other kids whose families were able to do the same. On the outside, I had a very comfortable childhood.

The American promise of “equal opportunities” was shattered when I began to see the resource imbalance between me and the people at my school. Some kids did not get lunch money and had to get free lunches. I noticed that when I went to my friend’s homes, some of them lived in apartments. Some of my friends didn’t go on school trips or join band due to financial reasons. Some friends did not have rides to come over to my house. Most had chores when they got home, because they didn’t have a gardener or maid. I couldn’t understand why their families and homes were so different. As I would talk about my vacation plans for summer break, some kids would talk about their plans to make money and help their parents. My friends were the first people in my life to bring up that things like vacations, hobbies and college costed money that many could not afford. I learned that debt wasn’t something reserved only for those who mishandled money, but also for people not born with the social status that I had. I learned that I had an easier life- not because I had earned it, but because I was born lucky. I knew I was given opportunities and privileges that would set me ahead. Some people would have to work harder and overcome more obstacles to have the same opportunities and resources that I had. This realization did not come easy.

My next shattered dream was “justice for all.” Violence drove me to run away as a minor. I had a job next to my high school and I slept in my car. I remember feeling very sorry for myself. I had grown up with CPS in and out if my life, and schools trying to intervene. It turns out, it is legal to harm your children. The protective laws on children are left for interpretation. Prisoners have more protective rights than children.  While discrimination against poor families in the US leads children being taken away from good homes, the opposite is true for wealthier neighborhoods, where children are left with abusive households because of a favorable social bias. I fell through a lot of cracks that I was told would be impossible. This led me to become passionate about discussing the ethical balance between parental rights to discipline and children’s rights to safety.

I looked at my experiences with my parental figures and the failed justice system. I noted the social biases and human error that impacted the integrity of American values. The last shred of the American promise was broken for me when I had my first apartment in El Cajon. It happened to be in the same place where an unarmed black man was shot on the corner of my neighborhood, after footage showed him running in a panic away from police. I documented my experience and encounters. I witnessed the mayor defend the actions of the officer, rather than proposing a solution. During those protests, I witnessed police brutality against the people of color who were beaten next to me, and was subject to tear gas, sand bag cannons and flash bombs. I saw that at the strike of midnight, when the protest was “over” on paper, we were given 5 minutes to disperse or we were mass-arrested. This did not seem American- it felt like a dystopia. A warzone. Something I would only find in movies. I was angered, shocked, sad, fearful and betrayed. A station was set up in the parking lot where an armed officer patrolled the top- preventing further gatherings at the site of the shooting. I thought America stood for justice, freedom, and the people- but this was none of that. The people in power were trying to maintain the status quo.  Freedom and justice needed to be fought for by the people.