Island of I by Rose Simone

The residents call this place the Island of I.

On this island, there is a woman, who once relied on public assistance, who now says: "I managed just fine, and those other people who are complaining about the public assistance cutbacks are just whiners who don't know how to manage their money."

And there is a man, who immigrated years ago, who now says: "When I came to this country, I had to take a menial job, so the immigrants who come here now should not expect to get good-paying jobs."

There is an older man who doesn't have a higher education who says: "I didn't get a chance to go to college or university, so I don't see why my tax dollars should pay for that."

There is a young working woman who says: "The pension plan for the elderly will be dried up by the time I'm old, so why should I have to pay into it?"

And the childless couple who says: "If other people choose to have children, they should pay for the schools."

Or the businesswoman who says: "I became successful all by myself and I don't need the women's movement."

Somehow, incredibly, on the Island of I, all memories of dependencies on others and obligations to others cease to exist. It is a place place with no memory of the collective past; only a selective memory of the individual past and no vision of the future.

Everyone on the Island of I talks about the government debts, but not the debts they owe to those who confronted injustice and exploitation in the past to create a better world today.

Today, they are ready to sacrifice the poorest of people at the altar of the planet's bankers.

On the Island of I, every individual believes his or her reality is the only reality — that every person is blessed and cursed in exactly the same ways. There is no sense of common obligation or understanding that the playing field is not always equal.

So it becomes difficult, on the Island of I, to collectively demand those benefits and services that enhance the common social good because that common good cannot even be conceived.

We are told it is not necessary in this new Utopia, the Island of I, where it is proclaimed: "The Corporation is God and the Individual is King!"

Yet the individual applauds this elevation of status while fearfully hoping he or she does not become one of the increasingly angry others . . . the ones out of work, begging outside the gates.

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