Linking to professor Anthony Esolen, who has written a searing indictment of poverty in Philadelphia from the point of a view of a high school-aged black male, Mollie Hemingway writes at Ricochet, “What is striking about this is how this elite destruction is looked at — within the echo chamber — as good, tolerant, kind and generally worthy of praise:”
“I needed a good school, and you trapped me in a bad one, while you sent your own children elsewhere. When some people suggested a way for me to go to a Catholic school where I’d have a chance of learning something, you cried up the separation of church and state. You didn’t actually believe that you would be setting up any church as a state institution. It is just that you hated the Church a lot more than you loved me.
“I once lived in a real city neighborhood. The houses needed repair, so you called it a slum, and you tore it down. Then you built housing projects with all the beauty and safety of a parking garage. When these became hotbeds of crime, you tore them down too.
“You declared a War on Poverty, aimed at me, when you should have declared a War on Vice, aimed first of all at yourselves.
“You loved your vice more than you loved me. You could afford your vices, but I could not. Your vices made your lives, as you thought, more exciting. I did not have your cushion of wealth, so the same vices destroyed me.
“I was lonely, and you bought me a whore. My sisters were lonely, and you made them into whores…
“I needed to learn to calculate, and you handed me a machine that would do it for me, and prevent me from understanding what I was doing. I needed to learn to read, and would have liked adventure tales for boys, but you gave me feminist propaganda, or comic books.
“I needed a father, but you preferred your fun. You passed laws that would reward my mother for not marrying my father. You hated marriage, because marriage brings a man into a family, and marriage restrains. You winked and smiled while my mother brought a series of irresponsible men into my life, none of whom was my father. They were dangerous. When they grew violent, you herded them into your corral, which you called ‘Domestic Violence.’ You refused to distinguish between husbands and these others. Thus did you continue to tear marriage down, and subject me and mine to more of the violence you pretended to decry…
“I needed a coach, to keep me in line during the difficult years, but you cut my teams and rosters. You called it ‘fairness’ to my sisters, and hugged yourselves for your enlightenment.
“I needed a father to show me how to love women, and you gave me porn…
“I needed a married mother and father, what every child needs, what every child has a right to, and you told me to go to hell.
“I went to hell, and have brought it back with me.”
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