A Tale of Two Brothers
Hayley Richardson | Sun, Nov 11th, 2007 | Category: Commentary | Tags: hayley richardson, west philadelphia high school, white dog cafe, culture reviews, jay z
Meet Robby and M (names changed, you’ll find out why), just two in the long list of characters that make working at the White Dog so wildly interesting. With easy smiles and the longest eyelashes you’ll ever see, they’re less than a year apart in age. Both grew up blocks from where I now live; neither would consider letting me walk home alone. And both have this quiet way of just sitting there, making you like them.
But the similarities end there. Robby is one of the hardest workers I’ve yet to meet. He paid his dues for a year in the stifling dishroom, and is now being trained to take over my position. He’s responsible, enterprising, curious, also acting as a surrogate brother for many of the younger workers in the kitchen. Last night, I overheard him counseling one of the dishwashers who’s considering quitting. “Stick it out, get your shit done and you’ll get ahead,” he said. A talented wordsmith, he spits rhymes at me while we assemble salads: “we need a side angle/to tell mayor street/what he thinks he can’t handle.”
On the other hand, M’s a dealer, plain and simple. Decked out in the characteristic accoutrements of a high roller, he’s a constant presence at the White Dog, spending his nights sipping Long Island iced teas in the corner. “Work?” he laughs, when I relay that I’m tired after a long night. “I don’t know anything about that.” This lethargy doesn’t really seem to suit him, though. Mostly, he just seems bored, unused. And sometimes I watch him, finding something tragically ephemeral about his round face. Several employees of the White Dog have fallen prey to violence, and the mood there sometimes feels like a waiting game. Waiting for it to happen again.
I’m afraid that most of America would find it easy to demonize M, to point fingers at him for his stubborn refusal to participate in the formal economy. There’s nothing flashy about working at the White Dog, but it’s a job, and one that he could easily procure. And it’s fair; Robbie tells me that it’s the only restaurant in the area that offers a living wage and health benefits to dishwashers, a job that requires minimal education or commitment.
So, get a job, M, pull yourself up, quit contributing to the problem. Personal responsibility, I can just hear the suburbanites ranting. A tale of two brothers, indeed. If Robbie can make it, why can’t you?
But I can’t seem to accept that line of thinking, maybe because I know M; we share outrageous stories and hurried cigarettes. He’s sweet and goofy, childlike in many ways.
He’s also quietly and profoundly lost.
So where did we lose him? To the lyrics of a Jay-Z song? On the 52nd St. bus, passing by the subway stop that’s not for him? In a classroom at West Philadelphia High, pre-makeover days?
What would it take to create a city that didn’t lose people? Surely not more finger pointing. Listening, maybe?
Hayley Richardson is an editorial intern with TNAC. She’s new to Philadelphia, and blogs about discovering the city, both through urban expeditions and working as a cook at the White Dog Cafe in West Philadelphia.
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JonE
Sun, Nov 11, 2007 at 4:28pm
Hayley,
I’ve often asked the same questions. An important point is that we know people that are “quietly and profoundly lost.” This is not an easy thing to say about someone we know, as it acts on an assumption that there is a path we should all be on- perhaps one of duty, civic responsibility, or another construct of maturity. As I see it there are two important things to consider in order to approach a solution.
I tend to lean towards an answer of commmunity responsibility. As Jane Jacobs wrote so profoundly, it is imperitive to have “eyes on the street” for security and safety, but I would argue, for the future generations. In psychology, they call this “generativity”, or a genuine concern and activity for the benefit of future generations. If it were possible to develop communities and community networks that could contribute to overall good and welfare, it would be a strong step towards helping the “lost”.
However, the community only has as much impact as a person allows. Everyone is free, and freedom to accept or reject the community has to be valued. In the end, the only influence we can expect to is by compassion, listening, talking, and only persuasion. Any form of coersion is deplorable and mostly leads to stronger “anti” sentiments. Apply this to schools, develop more community programs, and practice it often enough, someone might just find their way.
You’ve addressed a significant life issue, one drawing from social psychology and applied through policy and planning, in any cases, though definitely not all.
I hope these comments provide some help or even catylize further solutions, as I do not think I have the one answer, but maybe some of it.
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