I was a very smart kindergartener. You guys don’t even know. I was reading full sentences and had figured out all on my own, with minimal help from Dr.Seuss, what ! and ? meant. I recall very well walking down the halls of my elementary school with my class, all walking in a quiet line, and thinking, “Why do I have to put my finger over my mouth? I mean, I know I’m supposed to be quiet. I’m not like the rest of these babies.”
It was with my superiority complex that I, along with every kindergartner in Odessa, Texas, took the kindergarten exit exams. These tests would determine in which school we would all begin first grade. Most kids would be parceled out to their neighborhood schools, but we were informed that a select few of us would be chosen to attend one of two area magnet schools.
I determined that I would be selected. It was very important to me that I would finally be recognized for my exceptional qualities. We were instructed to tear the paper sticker that kept the test booklet closed with the eraser end of our pencils, and then we were to wait while the teacher read each question and then each possible answer. I decided that I would use my super reading powers and read ahead of the teacher, giving myself a time to think advantage over my peers.
Time passed and I forgot about the test. One hot and dry afternoon Mom loaded the four of us up in the car and we drove to the oil fields where Dad worked to pick him up since we were a one car family. Mom had picked up the mail on the way out the door and she was opening and reading it as we waited in the dirt parking lot with the windows down.
“Amy! You got into the magnet schools!” Mom exclaimed as she reread the letter she had just opened.
I was excited for just a moment, but then felt a stab of guilt. What if this only happened because of my extra thinking time on account of my ability to read trick? What if they somehow all find out that I threw the test? I spent the summer between kindergarten and first grade nervous about being exposed as a fraud.
This was during the early eighties in West Texas. As I mentioned, Dad worked for the oil companies. In the eighties. You can read the link if you are unaware, but there was a substantial oil bust around this time. Our family’s financial state was in shambles. My parents put their house on the market, as well as everybody else in town and then sold it for a loss, as well as everyone else in town.
We moved in to a rent house in a very poor district. The bus I took to my shiny new magnet school was shared with the local school. I firmly believe that I somehow offended the person who made this choice.
There was only me and a scrawny white boy with an inhaler on a bus full of Hispanic students. And I’m not just white. I make Casper look tan. Inhaler Boy and I were the only ones going to the magnet school. This made us even more different. Different is bad on the bus.
There was a group of 5th and 6th grade girls who used the length of our rides to and from their school to torment me for thinking I was so special. They sought to constantly remind me that we came from the same neighborhood and that I was one of them.
I remembered how I had been so sneaky in taking the test. I began to think that these girls were right. I was stupid. I wasn’t anything special. Worse than mediocre, I was a fraud.
My three years in that magnet school coupled with my family’s financial state led me to make a conclusion in my youth that followed me until only very shortly ago: Poor people are stupid. Poor people are not smart, because if they were, they wouldn’t be poor.
It was a chat with Lauren that got me thinking about this and I decided it might be interesting to hash it out in Blogland. I’m going to discuss in the near future my current feelings on this matter, but I am curious if any of you have ever experienced a similar notion about poor people. How does this notion affect our ability to serve the poor?
Gotta define poor and gotta define stupid… It’s all relative.
For the purpose of this discussion, I think I define poor as in American poor. Shoes, but shoes with holes. Food, but mostly beans. A car, but with rusted out floor boards and different colored doors.
And stupid, for this discussion, means incapable of achieving a higher standard of living based on inability to perform at the required standard.
Does that help?
Well, you know how I already think on this subject but I’ll reiterate it anyway.
I never knew that I believed that poor people were stupid until I became poor. It was much easier for me to endure the lack of money than it was to think someone might think I was stupid. God clearly showed me this despicable lie I had come to believe. Why did I believe it? I guess I could try to blame it on society but it was my fault, my responsibility.
I’m so grateful that God showed me this disception because you’re right, it definitely would always have affected my ability to serve the poor.
It is really hard on the ego to believe that poor people are stupid when you are poor.
Thank God for showing us what stupid really looks like.
Poor and Stupid. It is a trap and a lie that I too believed in. We think of Poor and Stupid in our understanding and judge a large life on only a microscopic observation. A judment of poor and stupid on self or others only masks the hurts we do not want to see in ourselves. I want to believe I am better off, and by the lies of the world the only way to do this is to judge things bigger then ourselves with no real logic. What is good anyway?
Ok, since I don’t have lots of time for this, I hope this comment doesn’t come out “stupid”.
One weekend my husband and I took a trip to the Bush library in College Station. On our way, through the back roads, we saw miserable trailers with filth and broken down cars and lots of unsupervised children playing in the road. I’m ashamed to say that I was pretty judgmental. I mean, come on, its America. You don’t have to live like that. Three hours later, having toured the Bush library, seeing the “elite” of America – lobster rolls, Kennebunkport, family estates and presidencies for goodness sake it occurred to me – as hard as it would be for me to ascend into those elite circles, is as hard as it would be for those kids in the trailer to ascend into my circle. I don’t have the connections, the experiences, the mannerisms, the education and finally, I just flat out don’t have the drive. I think it could be fun, oh yeah, I’m sure I would love to dig into a big pile of lobster rolls on cool summer night in Maine, but not enough to sacrifice who I am or interestingly, where I came from. Side note…There is a great PBS special from years and years ago called Social Class in America. Its phenomenal at showing the subtle contrasts in our culture.
Looking forward to the posts. I grew up near Hobbs, NM! I don’t usually equate poor with stupid—but sometimes with lazy. And I don’t like lazy. HOWEVER, I do know that many times a person’s station in life doesn’t have anything to do with being lazy either.
Compassion, compassion. I’m still learning!
Until fourth grade, I attended public school with others in my neighborhood. We lived in a four plex that was rundown and often times infested with critters I would prefer not to talk about. We were poor by most every standard. However, I was in the top of my class and one of the better students. I knew I was poor but I had no doubt that I was not stupid.
So I was not under the impression that being poor made you stuid.
In the fourth grade, I moved into a private school which put my mom into a great amount of debt. In my private school, I was almost always in the bottom of my class. I graduated from that private school seventh in my class, which sounds great until you realize that there were only 12 people. For the most part, my classmates lived in nice houses, drove new or semi used cars, had a parent who stayed at home (or both worked by choice not force and had the nicest clothes. By definition, we were no longer “poor” however, we were not wealthy by any standard in America. However, I went to church with one particular family whose standard of living was close to mine most of the time but had 4 extremely intellegent children and two parents I thought were and still think are brilliant. All that to say, I have since been conflicted what I think of this theory.
It is very hard not to judge the poor, especially those who have ability but no drive to change their situation. It is especially hard to not judge the poor in America if you have ever spent any time in a other countries whose poor are far worse off than most of the poor in America.
Sorry this is so long, but I think this is a great discussion to have.
While it is handy to be intelligent I believe there are more important factors that define a person than intelligence.
I think intelligence helps with education, and I think education generally teaches you that there is more to life than mere existance and not to settle for less.
Also, often your status is not static. At times in your life you are poor, and at times you are relatively wealthy. If you read a lot of biographies you see this pattern often enough.
It is not that your intelligence changes. More often there are circumstances beyond your control that affect your wealth. In your families’ case it sounds like the price of oil was a factor, for example.
The skill of attracting money seems to be different than intelligence. People who are good with money often hire intelligent people to work for them and solve problems that lead to more money for them, and not the intelligent person that works for them.
Also, the skill of keeping money once you attract it is different than the skill for attracting it.
This post makes me feel old. I was in West Texas in the early 80s, too. But I was getting married and starting a family at the time.
1st of all I won’t generalize poor people. However, I don’t think some of stupid, I just wonder if they think they can be more than what they have come from. Not stupid. No. Maybe misinformed of all the possibilities. Also, I’ve wondered if there is a victims mentality?
I have been wrestling with this issue for a long time.
I wonder how often we judge people by saying that all they need to do is work harder or be smarter in their decisions and they will not be poor. But once a person is in a certain scenario it is very difficult to change. Someone who holds three “fulltime” jobs at retail or food industry may be very intelligent yet not have the resources to find a “better” job that pays more and has less hours. Someone who has a child very early in life, before finishing education, may not ever have the opportunity to make something “better” for themselves.
It’s very easy for me to think I have all the answers. I’m finding more and more that the answers I think I have are not really feasible at all.
This is an interesting discussion. My father-in-law is doing adult literacy education as a volunteer. He commented that the man only wants to learn enough to get a part-time job, but my father-in-law feels like he should get his GED because then he could do so much more with his life. I think that reflects our idea that more eduction=more money=happiness.