Prada and Poverty in New York City

The book leapt out at me from the shelf the moment I laid eyes on it – The Nanny Diaries, proclaimed its cover in bold letters, above a modern, slender Mary Poppins figure carrying an umbrella. I hesitated for several months before finally giving in – the blurb on the back cover seemed interesting enough but slightly, well, childish. And indeed, after reading the book in its entirety, it’s not exactly top notch literature. The authors take their liberty with bad language and morally compromising behavior and I wondered in certain parts why in the world I kept reading.

But then again...maybe that was the point. In the novel (written by Nicola Kraus and Emma McLaughlin, two young former-nannies who have worked, collectively, for over thirty NYC families), the protagonist, Nanny, often wonders why she keeps her job as a nanny for Mrs. X, a snobbish, wealthy mother who cares more for her china than her child. Grayer, the little boy, becomes like a son to Nanny, who is indeed more a mother to him than his biological one. Her love for Grayer keeps her there, anchored to his side despite being walked all over and "thrown up on, figuratively and literally, by everyone in the family".

The novel is quite clearly a satire of upper-class Manhattan child rearing...meant to be funny, and indeed on multiple occasions it had me laughing out loud. But in the end, it left me desperately hoping – for every child’s sake – that a family such as the Xes is the extreme and not the norm. I don’t doubt that families exist in which the child, or children, are literally treated as particularly expensive (and burdensome) commodities. The images that we traditionally associate with poverty – starving, emaciated children in third-world countries with protruding ribs, forced to dig through garbage dumps for their next meal – are but one kind of poverty: terrible, to be sure, but no worse than the poverty found within the pages of The Nanny Diaries.

How can this be? Grayer is not starving (though he often claims he is); he has drawers full of clothing, an apartment bigger than most peoples houses, and beautiful and expensive toys and videos. His preschool is one of the best in the City, and he’s set to begin kindergarten at the prestigious St. Bernard School for Boys where he’ll undoubtedly be on the fast-track to Harvard. He’s earning French and how to swim. He has numerous little friends with whom he attends regularly scheduled "play dates". The one thing his egocentric parents have somehow neglected to give their little boy is the one thing he most desperately needs: love. They are simply never there for him. Nanny is able to fill this need at least in part, but it becomes clear that as much as she loves Grayer she will never be able to fill his mother’s ($400) shoes – he still cries for his mom when he gets sick at three in the morning, even though Nanny is the one there to hold him. And Nanny cries for him.

Grayer and his family are not real, but I cry for him too – at least, for children like him – deprived not of food or clothing or shelter or school, but of human love. Of hugs and kisses and time spent with parents. Grayer may not be in immediate or obvious danger like other children in poverty: he may not suffer from disease or malnourishment or crowded living conditions or lack of education. But the poverty he lives in is just as real, and will take its toll on him just the same. A child cannot live without love, any more than he can live without food or water. His body may thrive, but his soul will wither and die. Maybe the healing has to begin with his parents. Is it too late for them? Is their neglect of their child, their aversion to the touch and the cries of their own flesh and blood, a sign that this death has already occurred? I hope not. If it has, only God – who brings the dead back to life – can heal them now. We can help by acting as his Hands and Feet.

So then, if there are real Grayers and real Mr and Mrs. Xes in this world (as I believe there are), what can we do to help? What would a campaign look like for making the poverty of love history? It is much easier to develop strategies for reducing material poverty – we, who are rich, can send checks in white envelopes addressed to any number of charities, check "almsgiving" off our to-do list, and go about our lives. We can write letters to our politicians urging them to set aside more money for starving countries. If we are really ambitious we could even plan a trip to visit one of these countries and bring along supplies to donate.

I am not saying doing these things is worthless – far from it, donating money and writing letters is an essential step to reducing material poverty in the world, a goal that is praiseworthy. But all the monetary assistance in the world will do nothing – NOTHING – in the eternal scheme of things, if it is not motivated and driven by love. Love begins with each human life created by God, and it is watered and fed by that child’s parents, biological or otherwise. Without love, we are nothing but overgrown, dehydrated flowers attempting to inspire others with our sad beauty. Or dying candles trying in vain to light the wicks of the fireless. We must go first to the Source of Love, be filled, and then take that Love into the world. We must love our children – one Grayer at a time. Maybe we won’t see the difference right away, but in ten years...twenty years...forty years... God willing, the world will be a little more colorful and a little bit brighter.