Wen Gao is a graduate student at the Brown School of Social Work at Washington University in St. Louis, concentrating in domestic social and economic development with experience in community organizing, immigrant rights, and public writing. Her work explores the intersections of race, migration, identity, and social policy through both academic research and personal narrative. Originally from China, she is interested in cross-cultural storytelling that challenges dominant narratives and uplifts overlooked voices.
It seems like St. Louis would like to bury this heart-wrenching failure beneath time. However, fortunately and unfortunately, it is hard to be metabolized. For fifty years, no developer could truly swallow the land left vacant after Pruitt-Igoe was demolished.
When a single model of progress is treated as universal, difference is easily mistaken for failure. Lives that do not align with that model are read as backward, compromised, or insufficiently conscious. Yet liberation loses its meaning if it cannot account for unequal conditions, uneven timelines, and conflicting needs.
He seemed almost happy. Maybe because the river, the night, and the freedom felt good to him. He played one of his favorite songs, “My Girl” by the Motown group The Temptations, music from his youth before he went to prison.
Having lived in the United States for a few years, I have either struggled to understand democracy in practice or struggled to keep up with it.
I thought I had changed: I had started talking to Joe, the guy on the margins. I had asked his name and even brought him lunch. For a moment, I patted myself on the back, sure I was not one of the “cold ones.” On the way home, though, something felt off.
The air shifted. Some smiled with relief, others looked away. In that moment, I realized what the “model minority” concept protects is not me, but the comfort of those around me. Politeness asks us to trade particularity for harmony, difference for calm.