Dignity for Back Row America
God created humans in his own image. (Gen 1:26–27) There is a great deal of honor and dignity that comes with that blessing. We all subconsciously recognize our status as made in the image of God, which gives everyone an innate desire for dignity.
In 2019, former Wall Street trader, Chris Arnade, left his day job to photograph and interview people from what he calls “Back Row America.” This group includes individuals on the political left and right, but who have all been effectively left behind by polite society and the economy.
Arnade’s journeys took him across the United States to areas with mixed histories, ethnicities, and economic struggles. As he notes in his introduction:
“What they had in common was that all were poor and rarely considered or talked about beyond being a place of problems. All had been described as left behind, despite some, like Hunts point, being adjacent to rich and successful neighborhoods. Residents growing up in these communities faces immense structural obstacles, and some, like minority neighborhoods, had for a very long time.
Despite their differences––black, white, Hispanic, rural, urban–they were all similar to Hunts Point in one important way: despite being stigmatized, ignored, and made fun of, most of the people I met were fighting to maintain dignity.
They feel disrespected––and with good reason. My circles, the bankers, business people, and the politicians they supported had created a world where McDonald’s was often one of the only restaurant options––and we make fun of them for going there.”
And if you’re reading this, you (like me) probably fall into the category who have fallen into unfounded assumptions about people and ignorant attitudes toward them because they looked down and out, were at a McDonalds, especially if they were a bit loud or out of place in public. Very few middle class and up individuals are exempt from having experienced this in themselves.
Dignity is a raw look at the desire for respect. It’s a reminder that everyone has a story. There was a commercial that ran when I was a kid during the height of the drug wars. It reminded the audience that “no one wants to be a junkie when they grow up.” The message was clear: if you use drugs, you are a loser and the way you get there is by making bad choices.
There is some validity in that argument, but it fails to take into account social and cultural pressures. It neglects the influence that the frustrations about systems that are designed for people with resources.
Think about how it is nearly impossible to apply for a job without a home address. Or consider what it is like to fill out a background check application when you’ve bounced from apartment to shelter to relatives’ homes for the past three years. Furthermore, ponder what it must be like not to have a working smart phone, tablet, or computing device in a timeframe when apps, websites, and email are primary means of communication. There are many people who live close to the line of success and failure, where a blown-out tire, a medical problem, or a couple of mistakes between paydays can start ripples that spread into disfunction. Eventually, the comfort of a drug-induced high can seem like a blessing that takes away the pain and stress for a little while. It doesn’t make anything better, but it can make someone feel better for a little while.
Arnade reminds us that the person who has fallen into the hole of addiction may not have known anything different or may have been set on the path by a personal disaster. They are worth respect. They deserve dignity. They are made in the image of God.
There are unhealthy aspects of this book. Arnade admits that his involvement in the night life of the streets contributed to his own drug issues and problems within his family. There is also a level of voyeurism in reading the accounts of prostitutes, drag queens, dealers, unemployed, and underemployed. If voyeurism can be justified, at least Arnade’s Dignity carries out the purpose of reminding readers that the weathered, bedraggled, odd-behaving individuals we often avoid in public are people, made in the image of God who have stories, hopes, dreams, and a desire to be recognized for the goodness of being human.
Dignity should help remind readers that the unwashed “other” are not a problem to be dealt with, but people to be engaged with as worthy of respect and honor. As well, Arnade issues a warning that the same group is not a social project that exists to make the middle class feel good about their beneficence. There aren’t a lot of particular solutions in Dignity, but recognizing the inherent value of those on the edge of society is a big step toward spanning some of the fissures in our divided country.
The way we talk about humans also has moral implications, which are more significant than how we treat our pets. In his 2011 book, Less than Human: Why We Demean, Enslave, and Exterminate Others, David Livingstone Smith explores how language changes culture and leads to the justification of extreme violence against others, especially when they become perceived as less than human.