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Back to Dixie Timeline

To the mountaintop and back down again. We all know that the Emancipation Proclamation of 1865 freed millions of slaves. But then it took almost 100 years before anything notable was done to address the cultural, economic, and psychological impact of the institution of slavery.

Pressure from the civil rights movement of the 50’s and 60’s led to the passing of the Civil Rights and Voting Rights Acts, in 1964 and 1965. It would be another half century before the SCALE Act is passed in 2023. I will detail the provisions of the SCALE Act in another post. Just know that it will be huge, effectively closing existing economic and societal gaps between the races.

After 2023, the underrepresented in America became more represented in all the right ways. Many others, though, were not happy that gaps that existed for centuries were being closed. To them, it was a loss of privilege. That resentment led to sweeping changes in voting rights, making millions of Black and brown people ineligible. In 2028, the newly elected leaders immediately repealed the SCALE Act, and then passed the most damning law ever written, the Workfare Act, in 2029.

Can the country recover?

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BTD Excerpt: Workfare in Action

In this excerpt from Chapter 16, Richie Amente finds out that he is the lucky recipient of two Blacks, courtesy of the Workfare Administration.

“We got two!”  Richie Amente excitedly ran into the kitchen where his wife was making dinner. “Sherry, we got two Blacks!”

Sherry didn’t know what her husband was talking about at first.  “Blacks? Wha?”

“The Workfare thing.  They accepted our application, and we qualified for the new business subsidy.  We get two of them 24 hours per day, seven days a week for a $1,000 a month!”

Sherry was surprised at the terms.  “What do you mean 24/7?  Where are they going to live?  Here?”

“Honey, I told you.  I am going to clean out the garage.  Better yet, we will get them to clean out the garage and fix the place up for themselves.  They can take some pride in it!”  Richie didn’t care where or how they slept.  He only cared about the dollars he could make with this cheap around the clock labor.

“How does it even work?”  Sherry recalled her husband mentioning something about Workfare and labor, but it didn’t register with her.  Richie always had the next great business idea every day, and she lost track years before.

“It’s simple.  Think of the Blacks as cars…  cars that we are leasing.  The leasing company still owns them.  We get to drive the shit out of them, especially if we get unlimited miles, and then turn them in for new model when the term runs out!”

“Richie, these are people we are talking about.”  Sherry did not understand how such a thing could even be legal.

“Of course, I know that, Sherry.  It’s an analogy.  Now, if a car gets stolen or breaks down, they must give us a temporary replacement.  Same thing here.  Except, they don’t get stolen, they run away.”

“Run away?”

“Yeah, they have this whole government division that tracks them down and retrains them if they skip out.  If they run, they guarantee a replacement within five business days.” 

“Richie, I don’t know…  I don’t like it.”  Sherry could not get over the fact that these were human beings being forced to live somewhere and do work that they did not choose to do.

“Sherry, I am maxed out as a one-man operation, and we can barely cover monthly expenses with my income.  With the cheap labor, we can expand and really start to make some money.  We can have the family we’ve always talked about.  I… we deserve this break.”  Richie pleaded.

When Richie submitted the Workfare application a month prior, he was not expecting to hear back so quickly, at least not with any good news.  He felt it was too good to be true, but figured he would try anyway.

“Those poor people,”  Sherry whispered, shaking her head.

The next morning, Richie and Sherry drove to the Fort David training center in Arlington, Virginia.  They planned to be there the entire day.  The email they received from the Workfare Administration Office included a detailed agenda.   The day would begin with a compatibility consultation designed to match employers with the ward that best fit.  When they arrived that morning, they waited in a line that was at least 20 people long, and that was just to wait for a meeting.

They finally called their names after about an hour and a half.   They were escorted to an empty meeting room where they were seated and waited for the counselor to join them.   The counselor, a young lady in her late twenties, joined them momentarily. 

She walked in and introduced herself.  “Hi.  My name is Karen Phelps.  I am your job match counselor.”

Richie was smiling ear to ear. “So glad to meet you.  I am Richie Amente, and this is my wife, Sherry.”  He shook her hand firmly and vigorously.

“Good to meet you, Ms. Phelps.”  Sherry chimed in.

Karen connected her laptop to the projector and opened a file called, ‘Amente’. “Well, first, I think congratulations are in order.  You are amongst the first group of private Workfare employers.”

“Thank you,”  Richie said proudly.  “We are really excited.”

“Excellent!  Well, let’s get right down to business then, shall we?”  She said as she opened the skill requirements form from Richie’s application.  “You wanted two people to handle physical landscaping work, with good communication and customer service skills.”

“Yes, to work with clients and telephone work,”  Richie added.

“Okay, this is Garth Johnson.”  She brings up a picture of a Black man in his early forties.  It is a full body shot, and he is only wearing his underwear.

Sherry gasped.  “Where are his clothes.”

“They can wear anything you want them to.  With these full body shots, you can get a better idea of their physical condition and strength.  We find it very helpful for positions requiring physical exertion as yours does.”

“Makes sense to me.  I can see this one is strong enough to do anything we would need.  What else can you tell us about him?”  Richie stared at the man who would live at his home and work with him all day.

“This is why this is a great match.  Garth was the groundskeeper for a public golf course for the past ten years.”

“That’s great.  How is he personality-wise?”  Richie loved what he heard so far, but was cautious to not just accept anyone.  After all, they would be living with him and his wife.

“He is a quiet, but serious man.  He is mature, so less chance of any shenanigans.  He wants to do a good job, complete his Workfare training, and move on.  He isn’t the type to cause trouble.”

“Has he been in trouble with the law?  Any criminal record we should know about?”  Richie was going through the mental checklist he made.

“No, no criminal record.  Stable employment and no trouble.  We feel he is a perfect fit.”

“Okay, I like what I have heard and agree.  What about the second one?” He asked.

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Workfare Registration

When the National Workfare Act passes in 2029, many of the nation’s Black and poor citizens will be forced to register at one of the many centers set up throughout the country. Stripped of most rights, they will be sent far away from home and made to live in crowded spaces under inhumane conditions–working long and hard just to survive.
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BTD Excerpt: Sheila Registers for Workfare

In this excerpt, Sheila decides to register for Workfare instead of heeding the warnings of her son, Michael.

“Mom, the whole focus of my work right now is to stop Black people from registering for Workfare, and get them to safety.” Michael was desperately trying to convince his mother not to go and register for Workfare.  “There is no way I will let my own mother do this.”

“Son, you don’t have to worry about me. It’ll be fine.  My position is a government job, and we are on the exempt list.  I have all the documentation I need.  Remember, your mother is nobody’s fool.”

“I know that, believe me.  But I also know this president is wicked and racist, and this is his program… his baby.  I watched them drag people away all day, every day.    I also heard that they treat people bad in those Workfare Centers – overcrowded and filthy.   It doesn’t look like they are doing any training in those places.  Just stuffing people and storing them like animals.”

“And where are you hearing this from? Those REACH people?  Who are they really, anyway?  You sure they don’t have a secret agenda or something?” Sheila asked skeptically.

“They are a whole organization of people who understand what Earl and his Workfare program really means for Black people.  They are only confirming what I have been saying this whole time.  This is do or die time for Black people, Mom.”

 “Michael, I know you worried, but I am gonna be alright.  I just need to go down and get my registration card tomorrow.” 

“Well, I already see that I can’t talk you out of it.  At least let me go down there with you, just in case.” Michael had enough of these discussions with his mother over the years to know exactly when continuing to debate would be fruitless.

“Alright, since you don’t have anything better to do with your day, I am leaving work around 2:00 and heading straight there afterwards.” Sheila also knew if Michael made up his mind to come, he would anyway.  “You staying for dinner?”

“Staying for dinner? What? I came here for dinner!”  Michael laughing as he begins washing his hands over the kitchen sink.

“Well, help yourself.  I just took the meatloaf out of the oven.  It’s still hot.”  Sheila enjoyed cooking for friends and family, but took particular joy in feeding Michael any chance she could get.  She frequently commented on how thin he was looking, and would always ask, ‘Are you eating alright, boy?’

“Yes, ma’am.  I see you added the scotch bonnet peppers, too!” Michael noted as he excitedly cut into the meatloaf.

“Yeah, it’s now a standard part of the recipe.  I got to warn people, though, that it’s a little spicy!”

“Mmmmmm!  Yeah, that extra spice just takes it over the top!”  Michael takes a bite and savors it.  “I have been dreaming about this for a minute.”

The next day after work, Sheila waited near the registration table for Michael.  She decides to text him.  ‘About to register.  You still coming?

Michael immediately responded. ‘Almost there.  Traffic thick.

Sheila stood and waited for five more minutes and then responded.  ‘Going to register now. It will be fine.  See you when you get here.

I am almost there, Mom. Just wait.’ Sheila did not see that last text as she started her walk to the registration tables.  There were no lines at that moment, and she was able to sit down at a table across from a young female Workfare Administration processor.  She gave another glance to see if Michael made it.  Nothing.

“Hello.” The Workfare processor greeted Sheila with a bright smile on her face.  “Can I see your driver’s license please?”

“Hello, and yes.”  Sheila reached into her bag for her wallet and packet of documents.  She handed her the driver’s license.  “I have all my documents right here.”

“Thank you, ma’am.  One second.”  The processor busily typed Sheila’s information into the computer.  “Let’s see what we have here.”

Sheila opened the packet and pulled out a letter from her boss on State of New York letterhead.  She handed it over to the processor.  “This right here shows that my position exempts me from Workfare.”

The processor took the letter from her, and with her eyes already refixed to the computer screen, just placed it on the table in front of her.  “Let’s see what we have here.”  She repeats, clicking a few keys.

“Okay, I do see where you have an assignment request with the Motor Vehicles Department, but it doesn’t say that you are exempt from the training program.  Let me see here.”  She continued to type and stare at the screen.  Sheila, on the other hand, was starting to feel restless, and perhaps a bit less confident than when she spoke with Michael.

“What do you mean?”  Sheila asked, tired of her staring at the screen and typing.

“Can I see that letter again?”  The processor asked. 

“Of course.”  Sheila handed the letter over, regaining a bit of the confidence she lost.

The processor looked at the letter and the screen, and then back at the letter.  “I am sorry, but I will need to call my manager over.  I haven’t handled one of these cases before.” She got up and walked over to another lady at an adjacent table.  As they sat typing in her information and whispering while they stared at the screen, Sheila Dobson wore a look of deep concern on her face, her heartbeat getting louder and faster with each moment.  After several minutes that seemed like an hour, both women came over to the table. 

“I finally figured out what the story is, with my manager’s help, of course!”  She smiled, looking back to her manager, who returned the smile.  She continued, “Although you do work for a State in an exempt position, you are required to participate in the training program because you are a recipient of government assistance.  I…”

Sheila interrupted. “What do you mean government assistance?  I have worked for the State for 30 years!”  She raised her voice in anger.

“You received mortgage assistance as part of the SCALE program, and still owe over two hundred thousand dollars on the loan.  SCALE recipients are specifically qualified in section 296 of the Workfare Act.”

“This is crazy. You are crazy.  I am paying my mortgage every month with the salary that I earn.  That is not assistance.” Sheila’s loudness drew the attention of the WAs, and two began walking over.  “Check it again.”

“I did, ma’am.  And my manager did as well.  You have to complete the training program, but you do have a preferred assignment back to your government agency.”  The processor explained in a tone so matter-of-factly that it only made Sheila’s responses sound angrier than they were.

“Are you the manager?  Can you read the letter from the Director of the Motor Vehicles department stating my position is exempt and that I am essential to the operation?  What about that?”  She pleaded to review the case for any appeal or review process.  Anything that would put her life back in order.

“We did review that.  Unfortunately, the director has no jurisdiction over the laws and the Administration’s procedures.  You can file an appeal with the Administration.  However, you must do so from within the training program.”

“I have a job.  Can’t you read?  Why would I need training to do my own job?  A job I have been doing for 30 years!”  She caught herself yelling, and toned her voice down midway through.  “I don’t need no training.”

“Ma’am, I didn’t create the laws.  I just have to follow them.  Unfortunately, you do as well.” She nodded at the WAs who stepped closer to Sheila.

Sheila saw this and eyed her chance to exit the situation.  She collected her documents and began to stand.  “I have to talk to my boss and figure out what we can do. I will be back.”

“Sorry ma’am, but you have to come with us.”  A WA grabbed her arm on either side.  She violently pulled her arm away from them, but they just grabbed her again, only more firmly.  They began to lead her towards the building.

“Get your hands off me!  Stop!  Help!”  She screams as she felt her feet no longer on the ground.  No longer in control of her movements.

At the same moment, Michael hurriedly parked his car, looking ahead towards the registration tables.  He recognized his mother just as the WA grabbed her.  Michael was about 50 yards away from them, but covered it quickly. He sprinted full bore to his mother as they carried her away against her will…