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Story of the month ...

November 2008: The American society has a perforated floor. We all spend our lives jumping around in an attempt to avoid falling through the large holes and ending up in society's basement. Not all of us succeed. The lucky ones of those who fall through end up in Downtown San Diego. The less lucky ones spend winters in New York, Chicago, or Spokane.

Unfortunately, society's basement has a very high ceiling, no stairs up, and no elevators. Getting out of there is not easy. There is no way to just reach up to one of these holes and to pull oneself up again. Through the holes, the inhabitants of the basement can see those who still are in the upper level rushing through life and jumping over the holes. And in Downtown San Diego, it appears as if the ceiling is lowered during the day, and basement and upper level merge, but in the late afternoon the ceiling is lifted up again and the basement population crystallizes out of the daily mix. Some people call those who lost job and apartment, who live in the basement 'homeless' but this is a misnomer. Their home is a place on the pedestrian walk, on a broad banister in front of the city post office or under the front roof of the library. And for some nights, their home is in a shelter. Over some time, I noticed a middle-aged woman who came in her car in late afternoons to 9th Street, parked in front of the Women's shelter located above the post office, sat in her car and waited until the shelter opened. Most of them have established daily routines to keep clean, well dressed, the women often with make-up, and many of them are embedded in a social network. Like those in the upper level, many of them communicate with cell phones, make their appointments and meet for the night. Some live as couples, and have their arguments in their 'homes', their street dwellings. Some of them die in their 'homes', the street. 'Street dwellers' is what they are. But these streets are in the harsh basement of society.

If I had the abilities of a Pieter Brueghel, I would paint the two levels of society separated by the perforated floor. I would show the basement populated by those who were not fit enough or simply not lucky enough to avoid falling through the holes. I would show those above the floor trying a whole life not to fall through and those who benefit from pushing others into the holes or widening the holes. The painting would be a stunning illustration of the inexcusable failure of our modern society to provide a solid floor on which all individuals can develop according to their abilities. Unfortunately, I don't have painting skills that come anywhere close to Pieter Brueghel's.

But I can ask questions: Who will be the architects to build the stairs that are urgently need to connect society's basement with the upper level so that those who fall or are pushed through the holes and want to return may find their way up? Who will be the architect to design covers for the holes in the perforated floor of our society?

PS: While I speak of building stairs to get back to the upper floor, others are occupied with making the basement more habitable, see here ... but don't ask me what I think about that ...


If you have a story, thought, or picture worth to be considered as story, thought or picture of the month, please feel free to inform me about it by sending an e-mail to hpplag@unr.edu.