The ephemeral Ghost of Christmas Present vanished at the stroke of midnight, leaving children to anticipate his brother's return next year. This Christmas, like every Christmas, I revisited Dickens' "A Christmas Carol." The scene where Scrooge witnesses wandering spirits, unable to aid the needy, resonates deeply. Their lament mirrors a tragic irony: they had the chance to act in life but are now powerless.
This evokes thoughts about contemporary homelessness. As mayor of El Cajon, California, and a critic of the state's approach to this crisis, I question if my criticisms, like Scrooge's chains, are self-forged. What would my spectral visitations reveal if I were granted Scrooge's gift?
A Ghost of Christmas Past, reminiscent of the 1970s, would unveil a California largely free of widespread homelessness. Back then, California felt like a haven, characterized by a stronger sense of order.
California's future homelessness will worsen without policy changes. (SUPERIOR COURT OF THE STATE OF CALIFORNIA COUNTY OF ALAMEDA)
While poverty has always existed, the 1970s were different. We were mostly poor, yet public spaces were safer. Why the change? I believe it stems from a shift towards enabling homelessness – financially supporting the lifestyle, weakening laws upholding community safety, and normalizing addiction and vagrancy. The ghost, I imagine, would offer no judgment, allowing me to form my own conclusions.
Would the Ghost of Christmas Present expose the grim reality of encampments – the violence, the despair? Would the blame fall on those trapped within or the politicians responsible? Would he reveal the mechanisms of the "homeless industrial complex," where some profit from billions while the problem escalates?
Would the Ghost, observing the suffering, declare, "This is not my doing, but man's"? Would he point to those dying on the streets, warning of the consequences of inaction? Would he show me families at Christmas dinner, lamenting California's decline?
The final ghost, the most daunting, would reveal a dystopian California – cities uninhabitable, residents displaced, lawlessness rampant, and public spaces unsafe. He would guide me to the ruins of my childhood home, perhaps pointing, like in Scrooge's vision, to places like Haiti as a grim foreshadowing.
My Christmas wish is for those in power to experience such a haunting. May they awaken with a renewed sense of purpose, prioritizing the well-being of all Californians.
If I were Dickens, I'd rewrite the ending. The homeless industrial complex would crumble, replaced by effective solutions. Those trapped in homelessness and addiction would find a path to recovery, not through enabling but through enforced laws against street living coupled with readily available treatment. Cities would reclaim their public spaces, reversing policies that have made California increasingly difficult to live in.
Reflecting on Dickens' era, I see a difference between then and now. In 1843, there was no social safety net. Dickens’ poor would likely embrace modern resources, not out of superior character but out of necessity.
Today, our duty to the needy must be met with their commitment to self-improvement. The true Scrooge in this narrative is the political class that has subjected Californians to this failed social experiment. May we all recognize the truth and strive for a better future for everyone.
