ArcaMax

I've been breaking my noggin over some proposed ordinances the last few weeks, asking nearly everyone who happens across my path what they think of these proposed laws that I'll have to vote on as city councilor. And I mean everyone from hospital staff to store owners, from nonprofit administrators to my therapist, who really gets to hear more about city government than I think she ever wanted.

The police chief requested an ordinance on shopping carts and amendments to ordinances that deal with solicitation, particularly aggressive requests for money and requests for money on the road. It's been a heated community discussion. The Supreme Court's ruling on Grants Pass, which states that localities may impose criminal penalties for acts such as public camping and public sleeping without violating the Eighth Amendment -- even if they lack sufficient available shelter space to accommodate their unhoused population -- engaged the need for frank discussions about, and with, those who have found themselves at the fringes of society.

But the method of pulling people back from that edge has been a tug-of-war between different strains of fear, even if that fear is rooted similarly. What we do for the least of us says something about who we are, and continuing with reference from the Good Book, how do we work with the idea that the poor will always be with us?

Some would say our systems are broken, and the traumas that are inflicted once the cycles of poverty, substance abuse, and poor mental health care take hold are nearly impossible to escape, and that's the whole of where we should address our funds. Others would say that saying, yes, let us funnel help to those who need it, but add measures of accountability and responsibility into their lives.

And yet, either side also has prongs of discomfort to work through. Some people will never be able to be productive members of society in the ways those looking down might demand, regardless of a sincere offer to have them rejoin society in a prescriptive way. And some people will never understand that genuine assholes walk among us, and the chaos they create is incredibly hard to control. Ultimately, the control of chaos becomes the demand from more people because chaos, or even the fear of it, wears down even the most kindhearted.

Months ago, I went walking with a trusted friend, someone deeply invested and active in local nonprofits. They explained their concern about affordable housing development coming near them. They had fought it by showing up to community meetings.

"Where will people live if we don't build more?" I asked, bewildered by my liberal-leaning friend. They said they could only pass on their wealth through their property. I replied that their property might end up paying for their health care in their twilight years. Generational wealth transfer? That's not for the working class.

Most who consider themselves middle class in America are truly the working class; they work for money and rarely have the money work for them. Beyond that, most see themselves netted to safety in ways they are not. The poor who will always be us? That's different stages of us. It's the poor college student trying to better their chances. It's the young family balancing beginning careers with college debt and child care payments. It's the middle-aged, solidly in their careers but now capped with supporting their children and ailing parents and funding a retirement they're not sure they'll ever see.

Most of us continually face the precipice because that's part of the system's design. It's up to us to work within our imperfect systems to the best of our abilities and do the least harm.

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Cassie McClure is a writer, millennial, and unapologetic fan of the Oxford comma. She can be contacted at cassie@mcclurepublications.com. To find out more about Cassie McClure and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.

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