Romanticizing Poverty

Chances are that if you’re a Peace Corps volunteer home for the holidays, you’ve recently talked with a family member or friend that has equated poverty with happiness. During my short visit home, I was taken aback by an incredibly common theme that popped up during the countless “so how’s Guatemala?” conversations I had back home. It appeared to me that many people, who seemingly for the most part enjoy wonderful, privileged lives, got caught up marveling at how happy my host-country neighbors are in the simplicity of their poverty. Most said something along the lines of, “ those people have next to nothing, but they still find a way to be so happy. Not like us.”

                             

It’s true, of course, that many of the people I live and work with live below the poverty line (~$2 USD/day), and yes many of them are the happiest people I know. But this assumption that their poverty is somehow directly responsible for their happiness really confuses me. Do people honestly think the key to happiness is poverty? Because if so, why not just donate all of your things today? Yes the men and women who live in poverty that I’ve worked with are happy, but that is not to say that they wouldn’t be just as happy or even happier making more than $2 USD a day.

If I am misreading these comments, please by all means let me know, but my understanding thus far is that people are essentially assuming a cause-and-effect relationship when it comes to poverty and happiness. It seems that the common line of reasoning is that being poor leads to a simpler life where you don’t get caught up with “first world problems” and learn to be happy with what little you have. This thought process worries me because buying into a causal pathway that diametrically links poverty with simplicity and happiness makes poverty seem voluntary. It’s almost as if you’re saying that the poor chose their destitution because they prefer the simplicity of the lifestyle, when in reality those in poverty are generally stuck in poverty. They probably spend just as much time dreaming about a life of privilege and wealth as many Americans I’ve met seem to spend dreaming of a “simpler life.”

                                    

The most confusing part to me, however, is that people I’ve met readily romanticize the poor in the countries I’ve worked in or travelled to, but I’ve never heard the same applied to those living in poverty in the U.S. Usually the poor people of Kenya, Haiti, or Guatemala are resilient-minded, hardworking folk who have learned to make the most of what they have, while the American poor are lazy or even scamming. Apparently it’s easier to romanticize the poor that live thousands of miles away and vilify the poor that live down the block. I wonder where this paradox comes from. Is it from movies like Slumdog Millionaire where the characters’ capacity for happiness and love seem to outshine our own because of all the hardships they’ve been through? Or is it simply easier to romanticize something so far away from your own reality?

                                           

The danger with romanticizing poverty is that it tricks people into thinking that there’s no need for change. “Why complicate their lives with globalization or modernization? Just let them be happy in their simplicity.” But the truth that I have seen with every house visit I’ve done is that there is no simplicity in poverty. There is no simplicity in a 21 year-old mother of three, denied of financial autonomy, clean water, and food security trying to figure out how to keep her family healthy. There is no simplicity in a 14 year-old girl with untreated schizophrenia being stripped of her basic right to education. Poverty is not a simple thing- it is a complex multitude of emotions, circumstances, and contexts that can’t be captured in one stereotypical, glorified depiction. When we romanticize the poor and simplify poverty, we hobble the desire to find realistic interventions for alleviating poverty.

The “happy with what little they have” mentality is dangerous because it confuses making the best out of harsh circumstances with willfully choosing those circumstances – the bottom billion are happy with what they have (by the way who is actually surveying these populations and uniformly declaring that poor people are happier than wealthy people?) because they usually come from such disadvantaged lives that the simple making it through the day with food on the table and a roof above their heads is a blessing, not a given. But please don’t confuse this with the happiness you are thinking of. Imagine being content with your day not because you excelled at work or made a new friend, but simply because you and your family survived. Many of the women I work with are so overcome with the sheer challenge of survival that they don’t have the time to find the things that make us in the developed world happy – things like friends, pastimes, or forms of personal expression. The truth is romanticizing poverty is a privilege that only people who do not live in poverty are lucky enough to have.

Friends and family back home are by no means the only ones guilty of romanticizing the poor. Social justice think tanks and public health nonprofits tend to characterize the poor as ‘resilient and creative entrepreneurs.’ This is clearly visible in the explosion of emphasis placed on micro-financing in recent years. This characterization is by all means probably true to a large extent and I really do believe micro-financing has the capability to mobilize and empower the poor in ways top-down interventions never could, but the over-simplification of the poor as ‘untapped potential’ is harmful in more ways than one. It results in too little highlighting of the need for legal and social mechanisms to protect the poor who are actually quite vulnerable consumers. If you or I make a poor business decision or rash purchase, chances are that we’re much more likely to recover from the economic downfall than someone living below the poverty line would be. A romanticized view of the poor also distracts from the importance of sustainable interventions – if you view poverty as a choice rather than a reality, you are probably less likely to invest the thought and time that it takes to ensure a project is fully sustainable.  The idea that the poor just need a catalyst – a donation of money or resources for example- completely disregards the complexity of the social, political, and geographical contexts that keeps the poor living in poverty.  Instead of romanticizing poverty, we would do better to admire the strength of the poor while understanding our role as individuals, institutions, or government in ending poverty.