The Level Playing Field

Congratulations America!! The Playing Field is level. As far as the eye can see there are no great peaks or yawning chasms; just pure American good ol' fashioned work ethic being rewarded. It takes the same amount of effort to move 40 yards regardless of who you are, regardless of where you come from. Congratulations. Anyone can move those yards downfield that cares to.

Right?

Of course!! Except that the metaphor is wrong. It's not a field. It's a racetrack. Whether it is level is not even important.

While it does take the same amount of effort for each individual to run 40 yards, not everyone is running the same race. The stands are way down at the finish line and it is easy to see who wins and who loses. Some runners are powering through the tape still fresh and ready to run some more. Some are spent by the end and barely make it. Some collapse somewhere before the finish line and if they are seen, it is when they are being attended to; picked up and carted off. The spectators are thrilled to see the winners and they applaud them appreciatively. What the spectators are not aware of, is that some runners are running in an individual event and some are running a relay.

Yep. That's right. Even though we are quick to sort out the winners and losers, they are not even running the same event. As they all round the track they are even but suddenly...some of the racers hand off batons to a waiting group of runners who get off to a rolling start and quickly dash away from the participants that run their race alone. Oh don't get me wrong, there are a few racers who even confronted with the specter of unfair odds are so talented and so persistent that they still occasionally win. They are in the minority though. Most of the racers who have no help fade, and either don't finish, or finish very poorly. It is obvious to the spectators who the quality athletes are. "See! There he is! Look how fast he was! What a tremendous person he is! Look at his accomplishments!"

I wish sometimes that I could gather up the batons and show them to the audience.

"Look!" I would yell. "They had help! The other runners were going it alone but some of them had help!"

Then I would read the words that were engraved on the batons, to demonstrate what was being passed on along with momentum: Money, Education, Knowledge, Social Connections...

It is no surprise to me, and shouldn't be to you, that the last election for President of the United States was two middle aged white guys from Yale.

Couldn't you see the batons in their back pockets?