(Note from Tim: this is written by a Sloper who stays in touch with me from time to time; someone made a remark about “corporate welfare queens” on the blog recently, which inspired this reader to send me the email below; I have been given permission to make this email into a post:)
Who are the true welfare queens of this country? Suburban elderly or inner city folks?
My position: Inner city folks
Why:
It may well be that the money spent on Social Security and Medicare is much higher than money spent on Food Stamps and Aid to Dependent Children. But what about the money spent on subsidized housing (currently assisting more than 3 million households in the US), much of it in the inner cities? Aid to pay for utilities? Emergency rental assistance/homeless prevention programs? Disability benefits obtained from having ailments due to poor lifestyle choices? Free lunches and winter jackets for their needy kids? Free cell phones with minutes (yes, they get that, too)? And what about all those inner city folks who get all of the above, including Social Security and Medicare? There are a plenty of them. I know. I have seen them with my own two sad little eyes.
I have been working in Chicago’s inner city nearly every single day for the past 6+ years. I have had countless interactions with its inhabitants. I’ve been in their homes. I’ve seen their closets, their tv channels of choice, the contents of their fridges. Suffice it to say, I have a very close-up view of what sorts of benefits they receive and their daily routines. Make no mistake: these inner city folks are making a killing on benefits. And it is spoiling them rotten.
Most of my tenants have stainless steel appliances, refinished hardwood floors, and newly 
painted walls before they move in. They have cable, usually smoke, and set their thermostats at 90 degrees in the winter so that they can comfortably traipse around near-naked when they are lounging around in the comfort of their homes, awaiting the latest paternity test results on The Maury Povich Show. (On more than one occasion, tenants have put on pants in my presence after opening the front door. In the afternoon.) They have live Christmas trees — why settle for fake?? — which, miraculously, house bountiful piles of beautifully wrapped gifts, in spite of the inhabitants’ purported inability to afford even the $3 in monthly rent they’re supposed to pay. (THREE. FUCKING. DOLLARS.) Meanwhile, they are defrosting bags of shrimp in their sinks while mindlessly running the hot water for what seems like eons.
And in between lounging, eating shrimp, and decorating live Christmas trees, these folks are really getting some action. Plenty of my tenants are grandparents by the time they reach 30 (thirty, for God’s sakes!), and they don’t seem to stop procreating until their child-rearing duties start putting a crimp in their social lives; inner city folks often adopt and raise their own grandchildren (which allows them additional benefits), continuing a tradition set by generations before them. And while many inner city dwellers claim to have spouses, many don’t ever legally marry in order to fully maximize their benefits.
One of my tenants once proudly called these rent subsidies “hush money,” stating that the federal government keeps the program running to maintain order and prevent rebellion. Straight from the horse’s mouth.
The inner cities are awash with unemployment — though it doesn’t affect the unemployment rate, as no one seems genuinely interested in actually working. There is no monetary incentive to do so; the less they work, the more benefits they receive. We are essentially affirming their stories that they are unable to work and that we must take care of them. Is that truly the kind of thinking we wish to encourage?
In short, inner city residents are leeching the system, and they are multiplying fast — much faster than the death rate, as comparatively high as it may be. (And let’s not forget that death is expensive, too.) When one of my tenants, a mother of 7, recently announced that she was pregnant with twins, my mind couldn’t help but flash to that scene in the movie where the gremlin falls into the pool. OH YES I DID JUST SAY THAT
We must also remember that the number of tax dollars helping inner city folks isn’t limited to the amount spent on the subsidies themselves, which can be as much as $2200 per month per household for rent alone; we are also paying for the inspections, tenant relocation costs, offices, computer systems, paper clips, huge program staff, and the chairs on which their corpulent heinies sit. All of it.
I wouldn’t feel so bothered if these folks showed any semblance of humility or gratitude. Far from it; it is generally the ones who pay NOTHING who are the most arrogant and demanding. They complain about everything, from dirt under the kitchen sink to bent ceiling fan blades to purported damage to their fur coats or PlayStations, and they don’t think twice about calling the program staff to order an emergency inspection. (No, seriously.) Their main skills — aside from multiplying offspring faster than they can multiply numbers — consist of story-telling, suffering, threatening, and voting…and let me tell you, they are masters at it. It is quite literally their job, and they are getting compensated handsomely for it. (You know that tenant who is pregnant with twins? She doesn’t have a real job but gets an annual tax refund!). Our national debt is currently 17.8 trillion greenbacks.
Something is out of whack, no?
Anyone who drives through the inner cities can bet on finding tons of tons of litter throughout the streets, sidewalks, yards, and alleyways. Potato chip bags (probably paid for by food stamps) dot the landscape like confetti on a cheesy game show. Plastic bags, liquor bottles, broken glass. Newspapers, clothes, dog poop. People who leave these items are creating a far greater carbon footprint than this planet can afford.
There are more costs which are quite significant but impossible to quantify. The deliberate waste of our human potential. The self-inflicted, ever-deepening wounds to our cultural (and ultimately, economic) well-being. The loss of our courage and shame which are imperative for the revival of our country. The toll on our collective faith in humanity. Suburban grandparents who drive their Winnebagos to visit their grandkids don’t incur those costs in my eyes.
This is precisely why inner city folks are FAR AND AWAY the welfare queens of this once-great, now-deteriorating country.
