Our Stomachs Are Full, But Our Hearts Are EmptyAbstractIt was strange when I walked through the makeshift Holocaust museum at the Israeli Expo in Atlanta. The floor was cold, the walls of the cell seemed to close in on me, and I felt that people stood too close to each other. In the cold my mind wandered, and I thought back to growing up in the Capitol Homes—of spending over 10 years in an apartment much smaller than the museum space, of the scent of gas and the hiss of a radiator coming on to warm the cold air, and of the presence of too many people close together. Yet that was not fully the way that I remember growing up in the Capitol Homes. Although the floor was cold, an extended family of caregivers throughout the project provided what we now call the "social safety net." I remember the cheers of solidarity when our ball team played Grady Homes' ball team. I remember the pride that residents took in scrubbing the small porches and washing the windows. Especially I remember the children, now adults, who grew up with me, went on with me to college, and are now productive citizens of our society.Our Stomachs Are Full, But Our Hearts Are Empty (*.pdf, 100 KB)
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