In California, a few years ago, we voted for Proposition 187. In California where we have constructed dams to keep us from floods and drought, and where we have codes to keep buildings falling in quakes, we do not fear Nature so much as we fear the poor. Indeed, we describe the poor coming from the South as though they were a force of Nature. We voted for Proposition 187 and we tried to convince ourselves that the poor were coming to Glendale only for an umbrella of welfare services. What the middle class of California did not comprehend is the meaning of work for the desperate poor.
Work is life.
Work faster, harder, work because the handful of dollars in your pocket are the only protection you have against the storm or the quake. As forlorn as King Lear, the little girl stands in the field of mud. The President of her country has no promises to give her. The President of the United States has no plan for Latin America that might spell anything remotely called el futuro. She is curious about the gringo aiming a camera at her.