{"id":1547,"date":"2022-12-09T20:10:13","date_gmt":"2022-12-10T01:10:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/?p=1547"},"modified":"2022-12-09T20:10:16","modified_gmt":"2022-12-10T01:10:16","slug":"the-alliance","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/2022\/12\/09\/the-alliance\/","title":{"rendered":"The Alliance"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Perspective: Shopkeeper<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

To my sanity\u2019s demise, she<\/em> was there. Lazily huddled in the alley, looking so falsely helpless. Day after day I’ve tried shooing her away yet like a fly she comes back- each time a little weaker. I am a charitable man who helps the unfortunate but laziness is not a misfortune, it is a disease and I am not a doctor. She begs to be one of my barbers or even a cleaner but in no fairness would a business like mine be ambushed by such an ignoble presence. What would the competition think of my barbershop becoming a brothel? Nonsense. Supporting a woman like her would destroy my reputation. I take a deep breath, shut the curtains, and block out any creeping pity. I walk over to the front door and flip the sign to say open.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

My back faces the door but I hear a chime indicating that someone has entered. I close my eyes, hoping that I miraculously become invisible. I know her silence. Its desperation haunts me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I spun around and spoke in an enthusiastically robotic voice, \u201cWelcome, how can I be of assistance today?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked up at me with indignity. \u201cIf you just give me one day to prove myself, sir-\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I cut her off. \u201cMa’am, I told you I am not looking for new employees right now.\u201d I firmly said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI used to cut hair at my aunt’s salon- I know what I’m doing just give me a chance to show you- please.\u201d She begged. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, I really can\u2019t have you- lurking- around here anymore.\u201d I apologized.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tears filled her eyes. \u201cGive me this opportunity- sir let me try. I need this. My son needs this.\u201d She pleaded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She wanted me to feel pity for her- to feel guilt- but the only pity I felt was for that son of hers. I couldn’t help but imagine how ashamed he would feel when he got old enough to understand what his mother really did to pay rent. How would she explain to him the industry she had acquainted herself with? But then again, she did this to herself. Her actions have consequences- surely she must have known that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then she spoke a million-dollar idea. For once, that woman spoke innovation. She spoke without realizing what she had spoken but I knew. As a businessman, her pleas weren’t just a cry for help, they were the help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSir, you’re a man of high morals and the whole neighborhood knows it- let your morals speak the way they have so many times before. The lady down the street often speaks of your generosity- that you’ve given her children haircuts without charge- you remember them don\u2019t you?\u201d She asked with desperation.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

\u201cOf course- of course, I remember them but Ma\u2019am-\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease, let your nobility speak once again with my son- help me get back on my feet and support him.\u201d She begged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And for once, the angle changed. Maybe I wouldn’t be the man whose barbershop became a brothel but rather the man whose barbershop healed poverty. My charitable heart would be praised with admiration. The man who employed a single mother and her son- I would be applauded. Business would boom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I deeply exhaled and grabbed an apron off one of the hooks- firmly handing it to her. I looked her right in the eyes before whispering. \u201cSpeak to a single person about what you do outside of this shop and you’ll never step foot in here again. Got it?\u201d I threatened. All people needed to know was her homelessness, not the other- stuff. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She nodded, refusing to make eye contact and revealing her shame. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had no intention of keeping her around but rather she was an investment. I was investing in my reputation. I just needed her long enough for word to spread. I needed people to know that the neighborhood barber was helping a homeless woman and her son. My generosity needed exposure and she was practically a volunteer. The barbershop down the block wouldn’t be competition anymore. They may have a bigger shop and a brighter welcome sign but I have morality that shines even past closing hours.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Perspective: Homeless Mother<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The air was particularly cold this morning but not nearly as cold as his <\/em>gaze. I could feel his unsparing eyes peering at me through the window- or rather burning into the back of my head. Doubt, a familiar feeling, rained down washing away the courage I had worked up to ask for a job- again. He usually turns me down and says he\u2019s not looking for employees but I know that’s a lie. His words speak sense but his eyes speak something else. They say I am filthy. I am dirty. I am shameful. They say that I have lost my womanly rights- my human rights. I am a pitifully useful object and nothing more or less.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I matter enough for the parents wanting to show their children generosity through a few cents or a dollar but what happens when those children grow up? I matter enough to the men who are driven by infidelity but what happens when their wives take them back? I matter enough to my helpless son but what happens when he begins to help himself? Who am I when I no longer matter?<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

For a second, my thoughts won. They burned away at my ambition like fire to a forest. What’s another shot? He has already decided exactly who I am. What’s the point in bargaining with his soft side- one that might not even exist? But quickly, almost unrealistically, I extinguished the flame. I faced his front door with dying hope and walked in. He was expecting me. He always does. His back faced me but he knew who had come in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When he turned around he sounded like an automated machine saying what he always says, \u201cWelcome, how can I be of assistance today?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked up at him with determination. \u201cIf you just give me one day to prove myself, sir-\u201d I begin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He cut me off. \u201cMa’am, I told you I am not looking for new employees right now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI used to cut hair at my aunt’s salon- I know what I’m doing just give me a chance to show you- please.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, I really can\u2019t have you- lurking- around here anymore.\u201d He unapologetically apologized.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tears ignited by desperation filled my eyes. \u201cGive me this opportunity- sir let me try. I need this. My son needs this.\u201d I said shakily yet his heart didn\u2019t seem to defrost. I knew what I had to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Society is weakened by the power of morality. As someone who has lost all dignity, I am no longer weakened by its power. Unlike him, I don’t depend on morality to prove my worthiness. I brought a child into poverty so I depend on my cunningness. I tell him what he wants to hear. I give him his moral boost. I make him believe that he is in control and that I am forever in his debt. I let him sink in the feeling of moral superiority. I let him drown in virtue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSir, you’re a man of high morals and the whole neighborhood knows it- let your morals speak the way they have so many times before. The lady down the street often speaks of your generosity- that you’ve given her children haircuts without charge- you remember them don\u2019t you?\u201d There was no \u2018lady down the street\u2019 and there were no \u2018children.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course- of course, I remember them but Ma\u2019am-\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease, let your nobility speak once again with my son- help me get back on my feet and support him.\u201d Lies. I lied. He had not an ounce of nobility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He deeply exhaled and grabbed an apron off one of the hooks. He firmly handed it to me and looked me right in the eyes before whispering. \u201cSpeak to a single person about what you do outside of this shop and you’ll never step foot in here again. Got it?\u201d He threatened. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It worked. He was beginning to sink. I nodded, refusing to make eye contact and revealing my success. People often underestimate me. They underestimate the power of a woman with buried shame. Maybe it’s better that way. Maybe it’s our last standing guard because the others died in a pit of pity.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

I had no intention of staying. That day, my goal changed. This wasn’t a new beginning. It was simply a break. I didn’t yearn for sustainability anymore. All I needed was enough money to pay my overdue rent. I just wanted to make it long enough for my son to direct his own life. Just long enough for him to walk on his own, for him to feed himself. Just long enough for him to stop relying on his unreliable mother and then he can have a new beginning. He can have my new beginning. The switch I chose to make was not meant to provoke pity but rather a newfound sense of reality. With a past like mine, a steady stream of income is a miracle and miracles flourish off of hope. People often forget, there is no hope in false hope. I myself have fallen victim to the falsities of hope.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Works Cited (Images):<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBarbers in Byron Bay: Bangalow Barber Shop.\u201d Barbers in Byron Bay | Bangalow Barber Shop<\/em>, https:\/\/www.bangalowbarbershop.com.au\/<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lockshyn, Alexander. \u201cHong Kong Alleyways.\u201d Medium<\/em>, High Tech Low Life, 2 Aug. 2017, https:\/\/medium.com\/high-tech-low-life\/hong-kong-alleyways-9aa5411b0aa1<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Olito, Frank. \u201cThe Most Beautiful Historic Place in Every State.\u201d Insider<\/em>, Insider, 1 Oct. 2019, https:\/\/www.insider.com\/beautiful-historic-districts-us-2019-9<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Calder\u00f3n, Teo. \u201cMovie Movie Gu\u00eda De Pel\u00edculas.\u201d MOVIE MOVIE Gu\u00eda De Pel\u00edculas<\/em>, https:\/\/moviemovie-guiadepeliculas.blogspot.com\/2019\/11\/la-ventana-indiscreta-rear-window-usa.html<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBarber Pole Picture.\u201d Barber Pole Picture Posted by Ethan Peltier<\/em>, https:\/\/cutewallpaper.org\/24\/barber-pole-picture\/view-page-24.html<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Perspective: Shopkeeper To my sanity\u2019s demise, she was there. Lazily huddled in the alley, looking so falsely helpless. Day after day I’ve tried shooing her away yet like a fly she comes back- each time a little weaker. I am a charitable man who helps the unfortunate but laziness is not a misfortune, it is Read More …<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4223,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1547","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fa22-illuminations"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1547","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4223"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1547"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1547\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1553,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1547\/revisions\/1553"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1547"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1547"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/courses.lsa.umich.edu\/english-iui\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1547"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}