Thanksgiving at Home

Shena is a first year student in the MFT program here at ACU. I've asked her to share her story of what happened with her family at Thanksgiving. Read her words and hear her heart.

"This past Thanksgiving, my family and I went for long periods of time without water. For long days, we were unable to wash dishes, bathe, and even flush the toilet. My father became so exasperated, he filled an empty trash can to the brim with water just in case it went off again. The sad thing is that we had it good. We learned another apartment complex, Inwood Oaks, was being foreclosed because our management company had cheated them also. These poor people had their water off for weeks. There was sewage backing up in their bathtubs and numerous health code violations. This company has been doing this all over Texas for years. When Katrina first occurred, the owner filled nice apartments with hurricane victims carrying Section 8 vouchers and stopped paying to bills. He has cheated residents and management alike, promising them deposits and reimbursements that never come. One past resident nicknamed him the "Slumlord of the South" in a forum. He has become a master at taking advantage of people who are either ignorant of their rights or do not have the resources to fight for them.

Such is an example of institutional racism. However, I think institutional racism is only a symptom of the underlying discrimination in this country. I cannot express how much it hurts me to know that no one is going to reach out to help these Black and Latino families in Inwood Oaks. I'm always amazed to see how quickly people respond with large monetary gifts and donations to a white, middle class family who just had quintuplets but will watch people of color go homeless. No one will admit it, but to many, the people in Inwood Oaks deserve the trouble they have received. They must be lazy. They must be poor. They're niggers. They're wetbacks. And if they're not illegal, they may as well be. They must be on welfare and therefore useless takers. It seems like a brown face on the screen may as well be muted.

Perhaps I am just overreacting and this has just been an emotional last couple of weeks. It could be blamed on the movies I have recently seen. During this time, I have watched The Pursuit of Happyness, Hurricane, and Freedom Writers- three wonderful stories of triumph in the face of adversity. However, at the end of them, I did not cry in joy. I cried in pain and turmoil. WHY did this man have to go to jail for decades? WHY are we put in the dumb classes and labeled with learning disorders? WHY are my white colleagues recommending this as a good movie to me? WHY is no one as angry as I am? WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!

I am not satisfied with the Obama's and the Oprah's. One of us "making it" is not enough. It is not fair to ask us to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps when institutions are not paying for our books and mandating tests that even parents cannot pass. Nor is it fair to show us a movie and expect us to find a new self worth, shedding the years of society telling us we are too dark to have Barbie in our color and too frivolous to save. I cannot celebrate with the growing middle class when there millions in jail and more teachers dropping out of school system than the students.

I praise God for the Erin Grunell's and the three advocates in Hurricane. Without them, countless lives would be unchanged and probably nonexistent. My hope is that the actions of these people would remind that us the news story is our story. That if we lose our life for our fellow man's sake, we will find it. We are so quick to pray, but slow to move. Where are the advocates? Where are the workers?

Lord, we need more workers.

So, during these movies, I do not applaud at the happy ending. No. I cry. I look these characters and wonder how many more mothers, fathers, uncles, friends, sons, daughters, and orphans die daily but do not get a television special… or even a news segment. I wonder how many more families will become homeless, how many more children will fail, and how many loans will be denied. And I wonder how long it will be before we care.

Most importantly, I wonder if my hands will ever be strong enough for more than just catching tears."

Shena Sandle