I live in a climate that's not suitable for human habitation. Summers are hot, horribly hot. I arrived home this afternoon after a flight from a much gentler climate. I stepped from the airplane into the jetway and a blast of oppressive heat instantly enveloped me and, as I took my first breath outside the controlled environment of the airplane, I felt as if a fist had punched my chest, hard. Then, the fist unclinched and grabbed my throat, choking me and preventing me from catching even the slightest breath. Home at last.
Fortunately, I was able to return to relative comfort upon entering the air-conditioned terminal. That was short-lived, though. Once I collected my bags, I exited the terminal to the oppression of a parking lot whose massive concrete structure absorbs heat and intensifies it. My thoughts upon returning home to this sort of shock to my system repeated the thoughts I've had many other times I experienced the crushing heat; why do I live in a climate unfit for man or beast? The answer is simple: money and fear of the unknown. Though I live a relatively nice life, I'm not financially secure, nor am I financially independent. I have to choose to be where I know I can make a living. Or, I have to be willing to risk the unknown...move somewhere else that I might find a more appealing climate, but where I may be unable to make a living. I know, I know...if I had more ambition, I might be able to make a change without financial worry, simply by marshalling my economic and intellectual resources. But, at the moment I choose to steady myself with the resources at hand and only dream of living in a more appealing place.
My financial resources pale in comparison to people who really have money. I cannot help but think of whether I can afford to buy a new car before I visit the lot. I cannot help but assess the status of my checking account before deciding to buy an expensive outdoor gas grill (and then opting not to do so, since my resources are needed elsewhere). I cannot help but evaluate whether my entertainment funds might be better used as a start to savings for a trip to South America than for lunch today. People who have almost unlimited resources do not have to ask themselves such questions. Those questions, for them, may be irrelevant. But they're relevant to me. Why the difference? The difference is that I, when compared to people with lots of money, am poor. I live in poverty, relativel to people whose economic resources far exceed mine. Is mine real poverty? No, of course not. But my financial resources, compared with the truly well-off, can explain some of my decisions.
My decision to continue to live in this summertime hell-hole is influenced in ENORMOUS part by my financial resources. If I had much more money, I would not hesitate to move to a place where the climate is more to my liking...where the weather, as well as the political and social values, are more pleasing to me. But my financial situtation prohibits me from making the decision to move on.
The fact that I can't have what I want makes me realize that some decisions that may appear to be based on personal values or ambition (or lack hereof), or some other internal driver are, in fact, economic decisions. Did the people who failed to leave New Orleans before Hurricane Katrina stay put because they weren't motivated to leave, or did they stay because they did not have the means to get out? Do people who don't go looking for a job stay home because they're lazy or because they don't have access to a car or public transportation or money for a taxi or money for clothes?
My decision not to move...or even to try to find a way to move...is based on my belief that I know I just cannot garner the resources I would need to be successful after a move. Some people encourage me, saying I could be successful; all I would have to do would be to take a chance. That chance, of course, could lead to bankruptcy, homelessness, and despair. What if I failed? Then what? What, indeed! If I understand that taking a risk could ultimately cause me to be in financial ruin, then the impoverished person who decides he can't leave New Orleans for a similiar reason is easier for me to understand. My safety net is far stronger, yet I can't take the risk. The family in New Orleans may have to look at it this way: if we leave, we have no place to go, no money, no future of any kind, but if we stay, we have a home and a neighborhood and people we know who might come to our aid in the worst of times. Which risk is greater, dying surrounded by family or living with even fewer resources than were ever available before?
I do wish I could live in a gentler climate, where the people are pleasant even if you don't share their political agenda. I haven't given up on achieving that dream. But in the interim, my "cross" seems much easier to bear than so many others.
When I compare my wish to live in a place where the weather is more hospitable, I will try to put it in perspective. My inability to buy my way out of my predicament is just like poverty, but oh a much smaller scale.
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