Social+Inequalities+in+America

=Socioeconomic Inequalities in America=

=//Untitled (Overcompensation)//= Made in 2006 Solomon Projects** [|photo source] [|click here for other work by Sara Hobbs]
 * Photo by Sara Hobbs

=Hurricane Katrina:=

What happens when America abandons its children
[|New York Times Then and Now: Hurricane Katrina]

=The Grapes of Wrath:=

Turn to the poor for help
Casey picked up one of the cottontails and held it in his hand. 'You sharin' with us, Muley Graves?" he asked? Muley fidgeted in embarrassment. "I ain't got no choice in the matter." He stopped on the ungracious sound of his words. "That ain't like I mean it. That ain't. I mean" - he stumbled- "what I mean, if a fella's got somepin to eat an' another fella's hungry- why, the first fella ain't got no choice. I mean, s'pose I pick up my rabbits an' go off somewheres an' eat 'em. See?"
 * //Excerpt by John Steinbeck, p. 49//**

=Blame the Monster:=

Another example of American abandonment
And now the squatting men stood up angrily. Grampa took up the land, and he had to kill the Indians and drive them away. And Pa was born here, and he killed weeds and snakes. Then a bad year came and he had to borrow a little money. An' we was born here. There in the door- our children born here. And Pa had to borrow money. The bank owned the land then, but we stayed and we got a little bit of what we raised. We know that- all that. It's not us, it's the bank. A bank isn't like a man. Or an owner with fifty thousand acres, he isn't like a man either. That's the monster. Sure, cried the tenant men, but it's our land. We measured it and broke it up. We were born on it, and we got killed on it, died on it. Even if it's no good, it's still ours. That's what makes it ours- being born on it, working it, dying on it. That makes ownership, not a paper with numbers on it. We're sorry. It's not us. It's the monster. The bank isn't like a man. //**Excerpt by John Steinbeck, p. 33**//

=//Migrant Mother//= Taken on February or March of 1936 in Nipomo, California** [|photo source]
 * by Dorothea Lange
 * Taken for the Farm Security Administration**

=The Great Gatsby:=

The Morals of the Wealthy
Gatsby stood in the center of the crimson carpet and gazed around with fascinated eyes. Daisy watched him and laughed, her sweet, exciting laugh; a tiny gust of powder rose from her bosom into the air. “The rumor is,” whispered Jordan, “that that’s Tom’s girl on the telephone.” We were silent. The voice in the hall rose high with annoyance: “Very well, then, I won’t sell you the car at all. . . . I’m under no obligations to you at all. . . and as for your bothering me about it at lunch time, I won’t stand that at all!” “Holding down the receiver,” said Daisy cynically. “No, he’s not,” I assured her. “It’s a bona-fide deal. I happen to know about it.” Tom flung open the door, blocked out its space for a moment with his thick body, and hurried into the room. //**Excerpt by F. Scott Fitzgerald, p.** **116**//

We had luncheon in the dining-room, darkened too against the heat, and drank down nervous gayety with the cold ale. “What’ll we do with ourselves this afternoon?” cried Daisy, “and the day after that, and the next thirty years?” “Don’t be morbid,” Jordan said. “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” But it’s so hot,” insisted Daisy, on the verge of tears, “and everything’s so confused. Let’s all go to town!” Her voice struggled on through the heat, beating against it, molding its senselessness into forms. //**Excerpt by F. Scott Fitzgerald, p.** **118**//

=//Keep on the Sunny Side//=

by The Whites
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