Stay Safe, Mr. Nostrand
Upon moving into my first apartment with my best friends two years ago, we made it a mission to discover every nook and cranny of the neighborhood. We were adventurers basking in a newfound territory of adulthood— getting on a first-name basis with the bodega man, noting the signature style of the local graffiti artist, and over familiarizing ourselves with the menu of the Krazy Chicken and Pizza joint next door. Bed-Stuy, with its vibrant hues, captivating sights, and diverse community, quickly became my sanctuary.
With the dawn of the school semester came the establishment of new routines, and with them, encounters with new faces. Among these newcomers, one figure would weave his way into the fabric of my daily commute from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Each morning, as I approached the Nostrand Avenue station, he was there—perched in his customary spot on the staircase, a cup of change in hand, its contents jingling softly as passersby hurried past.
One fateful week, as I fumbled through my bag in search of spare change, I approached the station. I located the crumpled bills and dropped them into his cup. In response, the man bestowed upon me a warm smile and sang out,
“Stay safeeee, sugar!”
From that moment onward, he greeted me with the endearing moniker of “sugar,” regardless of whether I had change to spare (which, more often than not, I did not). Each school morning, like clockwork, his parting words echoed in my ears—words imbued with a melody reminiscent of a beloved catchphrase from a cherished television series; the only thing missing was a laugh track to follow.
Despite the charm of our daily exchanges, there remained nothing humorous about a homeless Black man having to rely on the kindness of strangers while seated on the grimy steps of a train station. A pang of guilt would invariably follow my “Thank you, you too!”—especially on the days when my pockets were empty. This pang lingered, haunting me as I made my way to campus, intensifying with each encounter with another individual facing homelessness.
Living in New York City, one becomes acutely aware of the staggering number of individuals without homes—more than 8.4 million, a significant portion of whom are Black. It is impossible not to contemplate how, with the right leadership, meaningful reparations, and a resurgence of empathy, the trajectory of their lives could be altered.
The post-structuralist, or postmodernist, trend has been to regard poverty as merely a construction or a mental state. The “culture of poverty” thesis retains a “blaming the victim” mentality that skews not only national perceptions of the causes of poverty and homelessness, but also their perception of Black people and failure. The issue that I’ve identified within cultural and behavioral theories is the lack of consideration for dependent variables, outside influences, and historical traumas. It’s historical racism against Black Americans specifically that has erected contemporary barriers to economic success, and this predicament is compounded by factors uniquely associated with American capitalism and demography.
I've long contemplated the interconnectedness of historical events like The Great Migration and their lasting impact on urban unemployment, wage disparities, wealth inequality, and inadequate social and educational services within Black communities. When a marginalized demographic is systematically thrust into an environment that perpetuates insecurity and inequity, the cycle of poverty becomes virtually inescapable across generations.
Frequently, arguments centered on “Black-on-Black crime,” single-parent households headed by women, teenage pregnancies, rising divorce rates, and criminal activity are wielded to deflect attention from systemic issues, instead placing blame on perceived character deficiencies. While these behaviors may correlate with poverty, they fail to address the structural constraints that limit economic mobility and perpetuate harmful cycles. It’s crucial to recognize that unjust structural dynamics breed problematic behaviors, which in turn exacerbate poverty. The question then shifts not to whether structure plays a role, but rather how to understand and dismantle these structures in pursuit of equitable prosperity.
A few weeks ago, I had a brief but enlightening conversation with a new friend named Michael who astutely pointed out that unjust structural dynamics, particularly in access to education and resources, lie at the heart of combating inequality. His insights echoed my own long-held belief in examining societal infrastructures that perpetuate systemic risks to personal security, thus fueling inequality.
Consider this: societal mechanisms clandestinely gamble with individuals’ security, relegating them to a perpetual cycle of risk and vulnerability. We both agreed that racism was, undeniably, the most pertinent aspect of the structural concept of poverty. I say all of this, not to evade a sense of accountability, but to establish a concrete conclusion that ties into the themes articulated by some of the most profound scholars.
We as conscious entities are free to pursue the alleviation of suffering. A person that is hungry has the liberty to pursue food, a person that is thirsty has the liberty to quench said thirst, and a person that is battling homelessness has the liberty to pursue shelter. At least this is the way it should be, no? A central issue within our current society that allows poverty to stain nations across the world is the lack of acknowledgement for indispensable human necessity.
Romanticization of the American Dream, paired with a failure to acknowledge the structural factors inherent to institutional environments that serve to favor specific groups over others is a dangerous combination that leaves individuals ignorant to factors that are keeping the oppressed oppressed.
Homelessness has become normal, but why must normalization equate to acceptance? While the way we provide goods and services is ever changing, the allocation of resources has been a consistent concept throughout the study of humanity. This control for resources is quite literally the perpetual plot rooted within the inner working dynamic of social and economic equity. A fair and just society consisting of more morally inclined individuals, accessible resources, and economic opportunities for the disadvantaged can truly be the recipe to alleviate the burdens of those who sit on the stairs of subway stations, cup in hand.
