MY STORY
-or-
HOW BIG GOVERNMENT SAVED ME FROM THE ABYSS
Born in Culver City, I experienced in my earliest years not only
the unique flavor of Southern California in the years before the
huge post-war expansion, but also that of a company town dominated by
two movie studios, MGM and Selznick. My memories by now have been
distilled to an aura of curious and probably deceptive sweetness. My
dad worked for MGM as a union electrician. Times were good for him, much
better than for working men in other parts of the country. Our
modest California bungalow was paid off in three years. I remember
the morning ritual as he and several other daddies on the street would
trudge off towards the looming walls of the studio at the
end of the street, later to return in the afternoon with empty lunch bucket,
eagerly awaited by his little boy. This all-american idyll ended at the
start of my fourth year when my dad was killed on the job. MGM showed
its colors by offering the desolated family the sum of $500, even at
that time wildly and cruelly inadequate. At the urging of his workmates,
my mother sued for something more reasonable, alleging unsafe
working conditions, but lost when these union comrades (yes, they
used that word) failed to testify as promised, fearing for their
jobs. So it didn't cost MGM even $500 - the sharks must have had a
good laugh! Even the union comrades joined in the feeding frenzy - they
would drop by occasionally to ``borrow" some of my dad's tools, which
somehow were never returned. The cannibalism seems to have been at
least equal-opportunity.
True, my mother had been left with a house and a car,
but also a severe cash flow problem. With two small children, and no
nearby family, she was reduced to taking in washing. Under
similar circumstances 40 years earlier, my father's mother
had to find families to take her children. My aunt, the youngest,
got to know her two brothers as an adult. What white knight kept
our own family together? Simple: a new government program, AFDC - Aid
for Families with Dependent Children - saved us with a dole of
$100 per month per child until majority [This is what she told me.
In sorting through her papers recently I discovered that the amount
was actually $13.50]. We became a welfare
family! In those days, at least, strict and regular accounting
was required, and my mother faced the steady possibility that
items of expense be would disallowed. Well, I knew nothing of this
at the time. In the current reaction against welfare costs, AFDC
has been terminated, with the excuse that it has become riddled with
fraudulent claims. Maybe it did become widely abused - I can't say -
but in our years of need AFDC was a godsend.
Also working in favor of a family with rock-bottom means was the
excellent state of the California public schools at the time. I
recall classes in which the teacher could comfortably maintain
order and an atmosphere of learning. Supplies were plentiful,
we had buses and field trips. Kids in public schools today and
their parents are constantly badgered to raise money and to donate time
for the school: in my day I recall only the paper drives, and an occasional
food drive for charity. The field trips introduced me to the museums
in Exposition Park, and at the age of 9 I traveled alone by bus and
streetcar across L. A. (safely, I think) to revisit them.
At our lowest ebb we moved in with my maternal grandmother in
the more working-class part of Beverly Hills. Widowed, my
grandmother survived by renting out bedrooms in her house. Thus
we became boarders among other lodgers, some of whom were fairly
colorful characters. But most important was having the advantage
of the truly outstanding public school system in Beverly Hills.
Dedicated teachers had the support of excellent facilities, and in spite
of our unruly selves, learning thrived among the kids. My three years
there at a critical age, 10-12, took me a long way toward my future.
I also owe a debt of gratitude to our beleaguered scoutmaster,
Ernest Ach, who introduced a very un-scoutlike and ungrateful mob to
new worlds outside the city.
My mother, now freed to work, managed to save in these three years
the small down payment needed for a Veterans Administration loan
on a house, and she found one in the San Fernando Valley, where
my sister and I finished growing up. The public schools were not
on a par with Beverly Hills, and could not have been, but were far
better than what seems to be possible now.
The next educational step was the University of California, at
Los Angeles, the tuition being at the time completely free, which
is to say, largely at the expense of the state or the taxpayers, take your
pick.
Finally, graduate study at UCSD saw the philistine Reagan's opportunistic
attack on the university, which was the beginning of a tuition
fee which has since grown steadily to quite a few thousands per
year. Although tuition at UC has remained well below that at
private universities, it has reached levels which significantly diminish
opportunity for the poor. But for me, while I was finishing,
tuition only attained a level of hundreds of dollars per year, which was
easily manageable on my stipend as a research assistant.
...and I built my career at the university...
...and the cycle was broken. Thw wife and I raised the kids in comfort
and security.
MORAL
In case it isn't already obvious enough, this story was set down not
so much to tell about myself, but to give an example of how
wise management and strategic planning by all levels of
government (four, in the U. S.), interacted constructively
in the middle of this century to produce real opportunity for the young.
The state's interest, of course, is to produce, in the vision of the
founding fathers of the United States, a wise and responsible citizenry.
Although timing was good for me, I fear that state-managed opportunity
has changed in present times much for the worse. Recent years have shown
greater and greater reliance on ``market forces", which is to say, on
the mercy of sharks. Is government abandoning its proper role of caring for
the well-being of all its citizens, not just the well-heeled? You tell me.
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