What will happen to the children? Who will step in when welfare is abolished.
Barry, Verne ; Cooney, David ; Craig, Conna 等
The new Republican Congress has promised to put welfare reform at the
top of the agenda when it convenes in January. Conservatives are
championing radical change: the end of the welfare state. Specifically,
conservatives are proposing to abolish most welfare payments, including
Aid to Families with Dependent Children(AFDC), food stamps, and federal
housing subsidies.
Even if conservatives had not seized Congress by promising to rein in the government, welfare reform would be unavoidable. Federal and state
governments spent more than $320 billion on means-tested welfare in
1993; by 1998, the welfare tab will cost on average nearly $5,000 for
every taxpaying household. But those who focus only on cost cutting
misunderstand the primary goal of conservative reforms; To wipe out the
scourge of illegitimacy in the United States.
Policy Review asked a cross-section of social service veterans, all
in the private sector, to discuss the effects of reducing welfare
assistance. Specifically, we asked these experts what would happen if
the government stopped adding people to the welfare rolls: Those already
on welfare could continue to receive benefits, but no one else could
apply for AFDC, food stamps, or housing assistance.
VERNE BARRY
Conservatives and other limited-government advocates, always eager to
point out the dangers of welfare, too often fall into the trap of
springing forth with "alternatives" to the support system that
welfare has come to represent. These alternatives sometimes fail to
address the root causes of our welfare culture.
Conservatives are correct in pointing to the multi-generational
families of welfare recipients as evidence that welfare makes people
think of themselves as entitled to the handout. And then it's a
small leap to become convinced you need it. But the strength of the case
breaks down (mainly among "fiscal" conservatives) when the
talk shifts to how social services are better administered by the
private sector. Churches and charities, the argument goes, can better
deliver these services because they are local, accountable to their
communities, and in a better position to understand the unique problems
of their neighborhoods.
Maybe so, but hold on a second. Softening the argument for welfare
cuts by assuring the other side that churches and charities will pick up
the slack can easily miss the point of welfare reform. The biggest
problem with welfare is not that it costs taxpayers too much money,
although that is surely a problem, but rather that it clearly creates
dependency and a dearth of personal responsibility. Such
irresponsibility becomes a crisis when it is neighborhood- or
community-wide, as so often has happened in our nation's inner
cities.
If all government welfare ended tomorrow and churches and charities
picked up the slack 100 percent, the relief enjoyed by taxpayers would
soon be tempered by the reality that the social tragedy of welfare had
not changed at all. The purpose of welfare reform is not just to change
who is doing the giving. It is, rather, to change the hearts and
minds--indeed, the lives--of those who have never known anything else.
It simply doesn't work just to help people: We must help people
help themselves. Too many of the churches and charities I've seen
never affect people at this deeper level.
There are other problems. Churches are in the soulsaving business,
not the social service business. Even those churches who closely
subscribe to the social gospel are not in a position to provide the kind
of all-out social support the present welfare state has
institutionalized without becoming huge and bureaucratic themselves.
Reform already has begun to happen in the world of private
non-profits. The United Way, for example, is guided in each community by
a "community-based board" that knows better than you do which
agency should get your money. Small charities clamor to get into the
powerful United Way network because there is so little money left over
after each year's United Way campaign. If welfare dependence were
undiminished but shifted to the private non-profit sector, political
pressure would attack the united Way as never before to ensure that
politically correct agencies and other favored institutions were taken
care of.
The question is not whether the private sector will pick up the
slack. It is whether former welfare recipients will pick themselves up
and start following the patterns of responsibility the rest of us have
always taken for granted. That's called changing lives, and
it's a lot more important than changing who doles out the goodies.
I can't help but remember a scene from "Alice in
Wonderland." Alice is walking along a path in the woods when the
path splits in two--one path going left and one path going right. She
wonders aloud which path should she take. The Cheshire Cat sitting in a
nearby tree asks her where she is going. Alice answers, "I
don't know." And the Cheshire Cat replies, "Then it
doesn't make any difference."
DAVID COONEY
Welfare was created to provide temporary financial support to
families in economic transitions. Instead, it has become a way of life
for a substantial portion of America's economic underclass. The
results have been disastrous socially, economically, and morally, and
should have been anticipated. As with many public policy issues, the
welfare program eased the pain but did not solve the basic problem
causing the pain. Thus, the problem has continued--even increasing in
volume and scope--while sinking lower on the national priority list,
because policy makers have achieved a comfort level.
Now, decades later, we as a nation are confronted by three-generation
welfare families fully schooled in working the system, but totally
unschooled in surviving in a competitive marketplace where education,
employment, and other tools of upward social and economic mobility are
available. In these circumstances, the "welfare problem" takes
on a higher priority because its effects are no longer in the comfort
zone for most Americans. The pain welfare inflicts is reflected in a
variety of social, economic, health, and education statistics that cut
across the full spectrum of society.
The easy solution seems to be to allow those who are
welfare-dependent to remain so, but to reduce the problem over time by
not adding new recipients. A corollary temptation is to assume that
those now unserved will suddenly alter their current lifestyles, and
perhaps receive interim support from a variety of private-sector
agencies in the forms of housing, employment, child care, and other
services.
Both the "solution" and the temptation are poppycock.
Welfare was created to meet a specific real need. That need still
exists. Failure resulted not by creating welfare, but by not providing
viable alternatives as incremental steps to independence. Those
alternatives will not appear overnight, nor will they come primarily
from non-government sources. Charity works best on immediaate problems
like housing and hunger, but it rarely has a significant impact on
long-term problems like employment and education.
The only practical way to reduce the welfare rolls is by funding
job-training, job-placement services, and through support programs such
as child care and adequate transportation. That such programs should be
available to people prior to their entering the welfare rolls is
inarguable, but this is not always possible.
Termination of enrollment without the other steps merely will drive
the social and economic costs into different columns of the
public's ledger--crime, public housing, food programs and other
areas. The results will be all bad for the underclass, as well as for
the middle and upper classes that will eventually have to share in the
social costs as well.
There are no easy ways to achieve significant social change. Sudden
and arbitrary changes to the status quo merely add new problems.
CONNA CRAIG
"I'm a system kid. I've been in foster care since I
was two years old. My dad's in jail and my mom is missing. When
I'm 16, I'm going to get pregnant so I can get a free
apartment and get out of this place. Until then, I'm owned by the
state."--Katie, age 14.
Katie is one of 600,000 system kids who will spend all or part of
this year in state-run substitute care--including foster homes, group
homes, and shelters. She will likely remain in foster care until she
"graduates" from the system by turning 18. With no permanent
home and no family to turn to, Katie is examining her options; welfare
is one of them.
In 1995, there will be more American children in foster care than
there are people living in Washington, D.C. At its inception, foster
care was meant to be a temporary solution, a means of providing a
home-like environment for children whose own parents are unable or
unwilling to care for them. But all too often foster care is not
temporary: Forty-three percent of foster children remain in care for
longer than two years. Annually, about 15,000 teens "age out"
of foster care and, like Katie, are left to navigate early adulthood
without the supports that many of us take for granted.
If further AFDC were to end today, we would be forced to create
alternatives to welfare for the steady stream of young adults who exit
one state system--foster care--only to become dependent on another.
Regardless of how the welfare debate goes, we need to change the shape
and nature of foster care to prevent a generation of children from being
lured into other forms of dependency.
National figures on outcomes for foster children are scarce. However,
in the early 1980s, a New York City study found that one-third of foster
care graduates were on AFDC or the city's Home Relief Program
within 18 months of leaving care. The New York study and others led
Congress in 1987 to allocate funds for services to children preparing to
leave foster care, including job training, budgeting, and career
planning.
The results beg for new approaches: In Los Angeles, 39 percent of
homeless youth are former foster children. A Minneapolis study found 38
percent of that city's homeless had been foster children. And
although independent living programs do not advocate AFDC dependency,
there are strong motivations (other than financial ones) for young women
and girls in foster care to have children: Many foster children
experience so much disruption that having a baby can seem like a sure
means of forming a lasting bond. According to Peter Correia of the
National Resource Center for Youth Services at the University of
Oklahoma, "Sometimes these kids just say, 'I'll have a
baby.' But it doesn't have to be that way."
Julia, for example, was removed from and returned to her own mother
10 times in two years. Then after 10 years in one foster home, she was
placed into a state-run group home for girls. She recalls her
independent living training: "They taught us how to balance a
checkbook and fill out job applications." Julia, now 21 and
unmarried, had her first child when she was 18.
Julia was working part time and in high school when she turned 18.
She was also two months pregnant. "I remember going down and
applying for it [state assistance]. I had just quit my job because I
needed to spend more time doing homework so I could graduate. I was
pregnant. I needed some money." When asked how she knew about
welfare she responded, "We all just knew about it." Julia
reports that of the 12 girls who graduated together from her group home,
"almost all of them have babies now. Three or four are on
welfare."
Two years ago, the day after her second child was born, Julia left
the welfare rolls. Why did she make the change? "I decided that my
girls deserved better. When I was on welfare I just couldn't make
it. I did not have a single present under that Christmas tree for my
daughter and that broke my heart. It's so much better now that
I'm working. Our world has totally changed. I wouldn't give up
what I have right now for anything. I don't have a college
education but I'm fine with that. Why complain about what I have
now? I made it."
Does she mind that part of her earnings support other young women on
welfare? "I don't mind helping them for a while," she
say, "but I mind when people abuse it. The thing about welfare that
really makes me sick is the people who just keep having more and more
kids." I asked Julia what advice she would give to girls who are in
group homes now. She responded, "Oh, it's very difficult.
Sixteen-year-olds don't listen to grown-ups."
Foster care reform aimed at reducing the potential number of welfare
candidates begins by listening to the children. At a recent conference
for 200 teenagers in state care, state officials asked them how they
would change the system. "We talk about independent living--but
these kids say they want to be adopted. Even the teenagers say
that," says Correia. "They want to belong, and why
wouldn't they?"
The American Public Welfare Association reports that 69,000 foster
children have court-mandated case plans for adoption. More than 50,000
are free to be adopted today, but will wait between 3.5 and 5.5 years.
Meanwhile, thousands of qualified families wait for children--infants
and teens alike--of all ages, races, and backgrounds.
Removing the barriers to adoption is a crucial step toward reshaping
foster care. This will be vitally important if welfare benefits are
eventually reduced or terminated, because states and localities simply
cannot afford to frustrate the best impulses of the private sector.
We could take a cue from Massachusetts Governor William Weld. Weld
announced Assignment Adoption in November 1993, a comprehensive plan
that embraces everything from court reform to coordination with private
adoption agencies, to find permanent homes for children in state
custody. The program helped to increase the number of foster child
adoptions from 725 in 1993 to 1,068 in 1994.
The Institute for Children maintains that every child is adoptable.
Some older children choose not be adopted. Others cannot be adopted for
legal reasons, as even abusive parents can maintain parental rights. For
some of these children, independent living programs can work--if they go
beyond training and provide children with incentives to succeed. Texas,
for example, has created incentives to keep foster children in school.
The state waives tuition and fees at state colleges and vocational
schools for foster children who are on their own at 18.
The results are promising. In four years, the number of Texas youths
who go directly from foster care to college has more than quadrupled. In
1992, Texas contacted 311 youths three months after leaving foster care
and found that 130 were employed, 95 had completed high school or
obtained a GED, and 235 lived independent of any maintenance program.
"We are helping young people to make it on their own. Better
educated people are going to do better in life and will delay having
children," says Thomas Chapmond, chairman of the National
Independent Living Association.
Chapmond reports that for foster children who age out and either go
on to college or into the workplace, the critical factor is one-to-one
contact with a mentor. "Every one of the kids who has made it has
at least one person--a teacher, coach, volunteer--who has taken an
interest in that child's life." Chapmond's organization
makes mentoring one of its key ingredients, involving people who want to
help needy children at a crucial point in their young lives.
And their needs are not likely to vanish: In every year from 1983 to
1992 (the year for which the most recent data is available), more
children entered the system than exited. State and federal expenditures
on foster care now total $10 billion per year. Cutting off additional
AFDC benefits likely would increase the number of kids in foster care
and strain state budgets--unless real changes are made in our foster
care system.
In short, adoption--private, independent, and public--must be
rehabilitated. This includes applying stricter time lines for
terminating parental rights and expediting adoption. Independent living
programs can follow the lead of Texas and incorproate cost-saving
measures and voluntarism to achieve better outcomes for children.
Mentors for foster children can be recruited from neighborhood and
ethnic associations, churches, and interested individuals and families.
For the sake of all the Katies and the Julias across the nation, and
the 1.8 million children who will enter foster care between now and the
end of the decade, we must act. Children need permanent families and,
when they are truly ready, the tools to eventually begin their own.
VIRGIL GULKER
Imagine this news announcement from your governor:
"Lansing, Michigan--The governor announced today that "no
new applicants" for the AFDC program will be accepted after July
1995. Those seeking family assistance, housing or food stamps either
would have to qualify under another government program or tap into
private sector aid. Meanwhile, church leaders met across the state to
ask whether churches in Michigan could provide shortterm relief for the
roughly 17,420 families who are first-time applicants for AFDC each
year. State officials estimate that if the 11,000 congregation in the
state participated, each church would "adopt" 1.5 families, at
an average cost of $952 per month, excluding health coverage."
Would the churches in America be willing to make such a commitment?
Yes and no.
Yes, because many pastors recognize the need to involve the church in
the lives of poor families. For many pastors the issue represents a
simple choice: Will the church lead the welfare reform parade, infusing
the process with compassion, relationships, and values? Or will it opt
once again to follow in the wake of the parade, content to pick up the
shattered lives and broken family relationships created by yet another
failed government program?
The neighborhood church already is the focal point for outreach
services to the needy. A report in the 1993 edition of the Independent
Sector--based on the largest study ever undertaken of the
community-service role of religious groups--concluded that churches and
synagogues "are the primary service providers for
neighborhoods" and that "the poorer the community, the larger
the role and impact."
Simply put, churches already make significant contributions to local
communities. In 1991, for example, the estimated value of volunteer time
to church congregations was $19.2 billion. An estimated 49.4 million
adults volunteered with religious organizations.
Churches can have significant local impact because congregations are
meant to be a gathering of people, each with a variety of talents, whose
shared commitment to the dignity and well-being of families can
transcend their own diversity of race, age, gender, marital status, or
economic need. As church members share their skills and
resources--particularly in the context of family relationships--life
situations can change. These relationships are critical to the success
of any prevention program.
"We try to see that none of our congregation of 2,000 is on
welfare," says Bishop Phillip Coleman of Greater Bethlehem Temple
Apostolic Faith Church in Jackson, Mississippi. "There were some in
the past, but we have helped them find jobs." That's the
affirmative answer to the end of welfare, the answer that insists that
faith make a different in everyday life.
Unfortunately, for many churches the answer is no, and for two
reasons: Some religious leaders will assert that care for the poor is
the responsibility of the government. Others will claim that churches
just do not know how. They are able to give things, including holiday
food baskets, but they do not know how to recruit, train, supervise, or
affirm church members to come alongside a disadvantaged family.
Governors should recognize that church leaders would require training
to help them build within their own congregations the infrastructure for
a volunteer services system, one that prepares church members to mentor
and assist economically disadvantaged families. Such training could be
provided by church volunteer organizations such as Kids/Hope/USA or
Love, Inc. Unlike subsidy-based programs such as AFDC, the church-based
system combines a case management model with a virtual army of church
volunteers.
Trained, supervised, and affirmed, these volunteers represent the
rich diversity and gifts that exist in most local churches. Old and
young, single and married, male and female, rich and poor, single- and
two-parent families, black, brown, and white-these caring friends can
draw on their life experiences and a shared value system to offer
physical, emotional, and spiritual support for the family.
Here's what a church-based outreach to welfare families would
look like: Each disadvantaged family and an assigned church mentor work
with a case manager at the church to assess immediate and long-term
needs, creating a three-to-six-month empowerment plan for the family.
After addressing the family's immediate needs, the mentor uses the
plan as a guide to link the family with other community resources and
with trained church volunteers.
It's the volunteers who really roll up their sleeves. They
provide direct assistance with housing, job training and placement,
child care, tutoring, living skills, and other developmental services.
On-going evaluation of the care-giving relationship insures that the
experience is productive for the volunteers and the client family.
Communities have a right to expect the church, the most sustainable
neighborhood organization, to provide specific spiritual and
developmental services for families in need. "The battered children
and broken families in my care have an urgent message for the
church," says Loren Snippe, director of the welfare department in
Ottawa County, Michigan. "Welfare systems can only treat the
symptoms of need; they can give food and money, but they can never share
the living skills and values required to change lives. That is the role
of the church."
Should government be in the business of forcing the church to help
the poor? Probably not. But if America's churches claim any
fidelity to the New Testament pattern, the state shouldn't have to.
STAR PARKER
When I applied for Aid to Families with Dependent Children in the
early 1980s, the negative stigma of going on welfare had been replaced
with the notion that I was a victim of society, and therefore welfare
was owed to me. Welfare was the easiest option, with the only
restrictions to return my CA-7 questionnaire within five days of
receiving my check, to not open a bank account or receive cash or gifts
with value exceeding $25, and to not marry or move in with a man.
And as with so many others raised under the liberal notion that
welfare is an obligation of the rich to the poor, I'd decided that
returning to my parents home was childish; getting married was
Victorian; seeking full-time employment was for Uncle Tom.
Very few in our nation today actually need welfare payments, food
stamps, and housing assistance. Even many of those living in the housing
projects of Los Angeles find money for hair dressers and nail salons,
and wear Cross Colors and Nike's. If the government were to stop
adding more people to the welfare rolls, many of these people would be
forced to find work and live within a budget.
The harsh realities to ending additional welfare benefitswould be
with individuals and families who need temporary help to weather
hardships. But from what I've seen, and from the people I talk with
on the air, AFDC in its current form is not the sort of help they need.
Consider the 38-year-old grandmother in South Central Los Angeles who
lives with her 16- and 18-year-old daughters, both of whom have
children, both receive AFDC, food stamps, Section-8 rent credit, and HMO medical services. Their combined, monthly government package is
equivalent to about $2,135.
Now consider what their lives could be like without government
assistance: Both teenagers find minimum wage jobs, bringing in $700 a
month each, while their mother baby-sits their three children for free
and takes in three more at $50 per hild per week, or over $600 a month.
If the men who fathered these children paid child support of only $100 a
month, this household would have another $300 a month. Add it all up,
and the combined income is $2,300 monthly minus taxes.
A misconception among many Americans is that these unwed mothers and
other welfare recipients don't have families to take care of them,
or that those families are too poor to help. Most of the welfare
recipients I talk to have access to extended middle-class family members
who would more readily provide help if welfare was not available. Of
course it would be inconvenient to rely on family help, and of course it
would involve sacrifice--but isn't that what families and friends
are supposed to do in times of crisis?
Would the cut-off of welfare lead to more abortions, domestic
violence, and theft? In the short run, probably so. But there is every
reason to believe that extended families and community-based groups such
as churches, half-way houses, and Salvation Army outposts would step
into the lives of the poor in transition. Orphanages and group homes
could be opened to provide for indigent children and families. Perhaps
the best way for the government to help is to give these groups tax
breaks and create new tax incentives for donations to them.
Welfare in the 1990s is not like it was in the 1960s. Today it's
an option, rather than a temporary springboard to help families recover
from external hardships. The system has evolved into a permanent
dependency that perpetuates illegitimacy and criminal behavior.
I am fully confident that our society is capable of dealing with the
problems resulting from cutting off welfare benefits. I believe we have
a vast number of resources to tap into that could handle the problems of
the poor. Government has destroyed its own system and now it's time
for a new approach.
JOHN M. PERKINS
All we have to do is look at the condition of our cities, and we can
see the effects of welfare. Programs like AFDC, combined with food
stamps and housing assistance, although meant for good, have broken up
more families than slavery ever did. As a result of these broken
families, children are being raised without fathers in the home. This
single fact contributes more than anything to the chaotic atmosphere in
our inner cities.
But what would be the outcome of terminating such programs--of not
adding any more recipients to the welfare rolls?
A lot depends on whether our motives are pure. And in this case, the
perception will be just as important as the reality. If blacks and other
minorities believe that conservative whites want to terminate welfare
because they are cold-hearted racists who only care about saving tax
dollars and who do not have the best interest of the black community at
heart, there will be a backlash so severe it would make any kind of
welfare reform nearly impossible.
Therefore, in our attempts at welfare reform, leadership should be
broad-based: It should include traditional liberals and conservatives
and, in particular, it should have visible black leadership. Saving tax
dollars must not be the primary motivation for welfare reform. Our
motivation must be a genuine concern to free those who are trapped in
the destructive grip of the welfare cycle.
For those of us who live in the inner city, the idea of removing the
"economy" that is generated by food stamps and AFDC is a
frightening thought. I assume that there will be a temporary increase in
crime in order to fill the vacuum left by the loss of this reliable
income. However, because we are not talking about cutting existing
benefits, only potential ones, this rise in crime should be minimal and
short-lived.
The real goal of welfare reform is stable, two-parent families
creating a livelihood for themselves and their children. This concept is
generally passed down from generation to generation through intact
families. But because of the damage of several generations of people who
know nothing about the work ethic or of the discipline necessary to keep
a family intact, cutting welfare should only be the first step.
Education--including everything from how to function as a family to the
fine points of holding down a job--must be made available and insisted
upon.
This is where churches and social care ministries come in. In a
recent article, William Raspberry emphasized the important role private
charity can play: "Private charity establishes a bond--a sort of
social contract between donor and recipient, giving the latter both the
incentive and the opportunity to even the books."
Much has been written in the past couple of years about the role
churches and grass-root religious organizations are playing in the
development of families and communities. People who are motivated by
their religious convictions are much more effective at administering
charity than impersonal government agencies.
Why? Because they are much more likely to do what is in the best
interest of the person asking for help, even if it involves "tough
love." But what often happens is that these individuals and
institutions find themselves competing with the government for the
loyalty of the welfare families they are trying to help. I've seen
this scenario too often: We say, "if you don't make
improvements in your life, then you really don't want our
help." And then the veterans at system manipulation say
"fine"--and move right into the welfare system where there is
much less personal accountability.
Private organizations demand accountability and therefore are in the
best position to develop families and communities.
The problem with private charity is that it is not very well
coordinated. There is no link between different charity organizations,
and there is often very little link between the greatest needs of the
community and the giving of an organization.
There must also be a centralized way to connect someone in need with
an organization that can meet that need. For instance, there would have
to be a working relationship between the welfare office and people in
the community. The church could not go out and look for these people;
the welfare office would have to work with them. All of those who apply
for welfare would be referred to one of these select churches or
organizations (depending on location) to take the responsibility for the
nurturing of these people.
I recently visited an organization in Canada called NeighbourLink,
which is working to do exactly this. NeighbourLink helps private
charities respond to the needs of their neighbors by creating a network
of churches and service agencies and linking them with community needs.
NeighbourLink serves as a clearing-house for these agencies, which helps
to avoid duplicating efforts of social agencies and keep them in tune
with the needs of their community. (There is a similar organization in
the United States called Love, Inc.) In most places, by applying these
ideas, we would see a successful response to the needs of the poor.
There are, however, areas in which the concentration of welfare
recipients is too great. Places like Gary, Indiana; Watts, Los Angeles;
Chicago's south side. In these places, charities would feel
overwhelmed by the sheer numbers. In such neighborhoods we have the
greatest demands and the fewest resources. These are vast, needy
communities where churches are very weak. In such places there would
need to be a link of resources: a link between the inner-city church and
the affluent suburban church; a link between the foundation and the
indigenous ministry.
In this area there is another hurdle that must be cleared. There has
been a poor history of affluent white churches working with indigenous
black leadership. Instead, white churches give most of their support to
members of white-led ministries who are new to the community and who may
not even live there. This makes access to resources difficult for the
people who could make the most difference in the community--those who
live in the needy areas and know them well.
There is a national church-based group called the Christian Community
Development Association, which is already doing a good job at bringing
together suburban and urban churches and linking private charity with
local ministries within the inner city. What makes this association
unique is that the people who are working in the community are also
committed to living there and making changes from the inside out. It is
people like these who should be trusted with the responsibility and the
resources to move individuals and families from the welfare rolls to the
tax rolls.
REVEREND ROBERT A. SIRICO
Between November 1980 and January 1981, many ablebodied people
receiving welfare benefits were petrified that Ronald Reagan would slash
welfare completely. They hustled to get jobs. Many eventually got back
on the dole. They became convinced that the reality would diverge from
campaign rhetoric. But it was clear that simply fearing the loss of
social assistance may have been the greatest motivator to get their
lives in order.
Times have changed. In those days, the politicians who controlled the
purse strings were committed to a doctrine of redistributionism, and
failed to understand basic economic logic. Those in charge today will
surely take a more sophisticated view. They understand that using
government to subsidize socially destructive behavior is neither smart
nor moral. At the very least, we should begin to see a reversal of the
most egregious aspects of the social assistance state and the dependency
it fosters.
It is time to begin drawing up blueprints for what we are going to
have to do after AFDC and other welfare programs are gone. Private
charity will have to swing into high gear. People of goodwill will have
the responsibility to engage themselves, on a much greater scale, in the
problem of how to help the needy.
Real charity brings with it a host of practical advantages over
government programs. But it too can produce incentives to destructive
behavior if economics is not taken into account. We must be wary of
replicating the mistakes of government welfare. People will have to
stretch their imaginations, and not just look to the welfare model. We
will have to carefully reflect on what constitutes human happiness and
tailor our charitable efforts to suit the answers.
The ultimate goal of private efforts should be to strengthen the
self-sufficiency of poor individuals. Real assistance should look deeper
than mere material help. It should consider how the assistance will
affect character and behavior. It must be sensitive to the human need to
be productive. The efforts should not simply aim to make people feel as
if they are making progress by receiving cash subsidies or the private
duplication of government food stamps; genuine charity should do
whatever is possible to take away the barriers to authentic
self-sufficiency.
Remember the fuss over so-called "McJobs" in the 1980s?
Liberals filled their days taking stabs at the very work ethic that is
critical to self-respect and, consequently, human happiness. They
believed food stamps gave a level of dignity to the poor that soup
kitchens could not offer. But what of the dignity that comes with real
productivity? Authentic dignity comes from using one's talents to
the fullest. Self-respect to a large extent comes from mixing our labor
with social resources in the market economy. Even private charity can
sometimes serve as an impediment to this end.
As part of my training in the seminary, for example, I worked at a
soup kitchen in a church basement in the Anacostia neighborhood of
Washington, D.C. The nun running the operation told me that the numbers
of diners would fluctuate daily, and that the group would be smallest on
the days right after the arrival of welfare checks. There was no means
test to receive a meal. Some days whole families would arrive for their
meal. I witnessed one person arrive in a taxi. One couple told me they
needed to eat quickly since they were planning to go shopping after
dinner.
Certainly many clients of the soup kitchen needed the meal, so we had
done well by them. But what about those who had simply treated it as a
convenience? Our efforts did not help them to lead virtuous lives. In
fact, it created a disincentive for them to spend their money wisely and
to use their time well. It may have filled them with nutritious food,
but it did not encourage them toward long-term independence.
There are, of course, positive charitable schemes that should be used
as models. One is the St. Martin de Porres House of Hope, a homeless
shelter in Chicago run by Sister Connie Driscoll. In 11 years, the
shelter has served well over 9,000 homeless women and children. It has
seen the birth of 1,100 babies and cared for more than 400 pregnant
teens and pre-teens. The shelter operates on an average of $6.38 per
person per day. Compare that with the national shelter average--mostly
subsidized--of $22 per person per day. Only 6.5 percent of those who
have been through Sr. Connie's program return to the streets. The
shelter receives no federal, state, or local government financial
assistance.
Sr. Connie's program is unusually successful because she treats
each resident as an individual with free will whose needs are much
deeper than mere material provision. She requires her residents to have
a certain amount of discipline and show a willingness to help
themselves. They must continue their education or job training, learn
skills, and rid themselves of drug habits. They must take care of their
children. Sr. Connie's approach helps her women become responsible
members of the community. She knows there is dignity in productivity and
self-improvement. To her charity is not a right, but a privilege with
attendant obligations.
With the Republicans controlling the House and Senate, there will be
significant opportunities to work toward dismantling the welfare state.
With such opportunities come obligations, especially by men and women of
faith, to come to a deeper understanding of the needs of the poor. They
will be called to use their hearts--and their minds.