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A View From the Front Lines of the Class War

  • Posted on: 11 April 2011
  • By: greywolfe359

Crossposted from Daily Kos by GH, with permission.

A beat-up van pulls to a stop just up the road. A creaky screen door opens from the apartment at the end of the building. A young African-American girl runs out toward the van, barely hanging onto a gym bag that was obviously not meant for such a pint-sized carrier. The driver of the van, a middle-aged white man with glasses and a beard, throws the passenger door to the van open and the little girl tosses the bag onto the floor before climbing in. The apartment door, which had banged shut in the meantime, creaks open again as the girl's mother waves goodbye.

"Be good. Have fun," she tells her daughter.

"I'll have her back by eight," the driver replies as the little girl shuts the van door and waves goodbye to her mom.

As the van pulls away and disappears around a turn up the street, the girl's mother allows herself to slump against the door frame for just a moment. She lets go of a long sigh that betrays just how tired she is. She almost doesn't notice me as I approach her door to introduce myself.

 

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