Suburgatory (19 page)

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Authors: Linda Keenan

BOOK: Suburgatory
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Jim put the iPad down triumphantly. “You're hot for the Sociopath Next Door. Nice! Maybe there are some cute serial killers in prison that you can start sending letters to! God, this is just like when you and every other thirty-something housewife was obsessed with that psychotic killer Tony Soprano. What is
wrong
with you women? I mean, yeah, we men like big boobs and young girls but some of you freaks are attracted to men who might hurt you?”

“Leave my Tony out of it. He would
never
hurt an animal,” Mary said.

New Black Resident
Worst Racist in Town

Suburgatory, USA—A new black father who has joined our overwhelmingly white community is being described as the “worst racist in town.”

Bradford Johnson described his family's move here very openly as a classic case of “white flight” from the section of the city where the population is 50 percent black or Hispanic and growing. This reporter thought using the term “white flight” was an unusual choice for a black person to use.

“Just because I'm black doesn't mean I give a rat's ass about other blacks. I want the same things white people do. To be far, far away from black people. To suggest that I love blacks just because I'm black, well, that's just racist.”

Johnson has been wholeheartedly welcomed into his new affluent Westgate neighborhood, with residents appreciating the chance to have the appearance of diversity, even though Johnson's background makes him far more similar culturally to his neighbors than to the black or Hispanic server at the local Dunkin' Donuts. “The diversity I provide is that I am the first person
of any color
on our street to attend MIT.”

Peggy Marist was thrilled at the idea of what she called “our own, personal Obamas!” Lowering her voice, Marist said, “They didn't seem black-black at all, and not even Michelle Obama–black. They're Barack-black all the way. Some of the kids bused in from the city are really black-black and kind of wild, so I was really excited for my Madison to have her own sweet ‘Malia' to be friends with on the bus! We already have a gay, a bunch of Chinese all in one house, and even one Mexican. So the Johnsons seemed like the perfect addition. But . . . well, Bradford has a little . . . anger. I think he's, like, mad at America or something. I mean, not mad at America but other black people.” She had loudly whispered the words “black people.”

The white residents had a very clear idea of how their interaction would be with Johnson: They would have light, friendly contact in which his race would go unmentioned, at all costs. But Johnson didn't comply. People would frequently say, “You must have really wanted your kids to enjoy the great schools here!” He would be honest and reply, “Yes, we wanted them away from those black people. Believe me, you don't want your kids around them. If it's more than 10 percent black, well, I'd never send my kids there. They just bring you down.”

Johnson found himself very frustrated, and alienated people with his blunt race-talk. “I thought they would want to talk about black people as much as I do. Isn't that why I moved here? Thank goodness I found Old Bill.”

“Old Bill” Jesper, also known by his harsher critics as “the Starbucks Klansman,” now meets Bradford for coffee a few days a week to discuss some of their favorite areas of attack, like unwed mothers in the black community or the evils of the drug trade. “They call
me
a racist? If I was a black guy and got stuck in an alley, it's
Bradford
I'd worry about, not poor old falling-apart Bill Jesper. I just like to rile people up to pass the time. Johnson wants a race war. Him versus the rest of ‘hims.'”

Interestingly, Bradford has faced at least one moment of true racism, but blames the incident on the failings of black people. One time a new neighbor assumed that Bradford was actually NFL player Deshaun Watson, one of the few other prominent black residents in the area. The neighbor believed that the only way a black man could afford to live in the area was if he was a pro athlete. But rather than attack the neighbor for that assumption, Bradford blamed “the blacks.” “That assumption is
not racist.
It's incontrovertible fact. There are not hardly enough rich black professionals and we have no one to blame but themselves.”

So what does he make of the idea that he is viewed as the town's Obama? “I don't get that man. Obama had the perfect life, completely free from blacks, and then he picks up and moves to Chicago to be with all those, those people? But notice he didn't decide to stay in blackie-town. He had a plan to get out. And notice also,” he said triumphantly, “did he send his girls to public school in D.C. to be with all those no-good blacks? Nope. Because he is a proud black man who wants the best for his black daughters, just like me.”

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Poor by Choice Meets Just Plain Poor

Suburgatory, USA—A woman who is poor by choice gave some less than helpful advice to a woman who is just plain poor, as the two of them were checking out groceries at the Bay Street Stop-n-Shop.

Kristin Perry lives in town and shops at the store regularly, as does Callie Bennett, who works there as a cashier and lives right outside the town line in the Edgemont trailer park. When Perry saw that Bennett had a food stamp swipe card, like she has, she thought she had found a kindred spirit. “Not too many poor people around here, we have to stick together!”

Perry attended Cornell University and then the Wharton Business School; her husband attended Dartmouth. Both grew up in an upper-­middle-class suburb, and after college they both stepped on the upwardly-mobile work treadmill along with most of their peers. That is, until their first child was born.

“We just decided we wanted more out of life, and being poor was the answer. All that stuff we were accumulating and the time spent earning money to buy it was just making us emptier. Not everyone can handle the impoverished life, but for us it was the challenge of a lifetime, and we were eager to conquer it. With a small stipend from Mike's dad's stock dividends, I was able to leave my job and Mike was able to fulfill his dream of perfecting his craft.” Which is? “His craft? I don't know, we keep our passions separate. You should ask him!”

Why did they choose to live in such an expensive town? “Of course, education is number one to us, so we were really lucky Mike's father supported our decision to be poor and bought us the house, which helped him on his taxes, too. Win-win!”

Store clerk Callie Bennett says she's just plain poor and comes from a long line of just plain poor people who came before her. With no chance to attend college, she feels lucky, though hardly pleased, to have her job at Stop-n-Shop. But, as it goes with the just plain poor, she is only just getting by, and has a new baby to boot. Bennett described her encounter with Perry.

“When I pulled out my EBT [food stamp] card, the scary hippie lady behind me sort of waved hers at me, with a small smile, like it was sign language for ‘I'm poor, too, let's be friends!' Ugh I was so zonked from work, I just wanted to go the fuck
home.

Perry noticed Bennett's several boxes of diapers. “Knowing that many other poor women don't know about the value of cloth-diapering to both the environment and their budgets, I thought maybe I would do some outreach.” So she said, “Have you considered cloth diapers for your baby? It's soft on their bottoms, good for the globe, and it's practically free, and free's good for poor women like us, right?”

Bennett for a second just stared. Then she responded: “It's only free if you don't put any value on my time, and my time is worth fifteen bucks an hour, and I need every dollar from every hour and every minute that I work. You think I want to add disgusting ‘cloth' diapers to my insane laundry load?”

Perry seemed chastened and said, “Well, it's really not that hard. You boil them, using tongs, about six times for about fifteen minutes to make them more absorbent and then you . . . ”

Bennett looked at her, slack-jawed. “Why don't you worry about your own life and your own baby's bottom and your own boiled shit and I'll worry about mine? I have to think about my future and I
don't
plan to be poor forever.” Bennett assumed, correctly, that Perry doesn't work. “Maybe if you got a
job,
you could dream bigger, too.”

As Bennett walked out, Perry said, “See, she's still on that terrible treadmill we were on. She hasn't discovered the freedom that being poor can give you.” Perry shook her head and said, “I so hope it happens for her someday.”

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