Human beings are not trash, and the system that enables humans to imagine each other as such needs to end.
Every day across the US, 66 million poor white people pay the price for failing whiteness. In this sweeping debut, activist and chaplain Cedar Monroe writes indelibly about and for poor white people: about unlearning the American dream, untangling from white supremacy, and working for liberation alongside other poor folks.
Monroe introduces us to people who are poor and unhoused in a small town in Washington, who eke out a living on land that once provided timber for the nation. On the banks of the Chehalis River, we meet residents of the largest homeless encampment in the country, who face sweeps and evictions and are targeted by vigilantes before bringing their case to federal court. We watch a community grapple with desperation, government neglect, and its own racism. From visits to jails, flophouses, tent cities, and on trips to hospitals and funeral homes, we see leaders forging connections between their people and the global movement to end poverty.
With trenchant insight born of liberation theology, radical politics, and an even more radical hope, Monroe introduces us to people hammering out survival strategies and hope in the abandoned zones of empire. Capitalism and colonialism have stolen land from Indigenous people, forced workers into dangerous jobs, and then left them to die when their labor was no longer needed. But what would happen if poor white folks rejected the empty promises of white supremacy and embraced solidarity with other poor people? What if they joined the resistance to the system that is, slowly or quickly, killing us all? Trash asks us to see anew the peril in which poor white people live and the choices we all must make.
Capitalism creates trash. It calls all the mess created on the land after clear-cutting and oil spills and chemical spills “waste.” What system takes all the beauty and power of the world and nature and turns it to trash? […] And then there are the people who are called trash. My people.
from Trash by Cedar Monroe After gaining her degree Cedar Monroe returned to her hometown to minister to the homeless who lived in the encampment along the river. Monroe was born poor, and white, and understood the forces that keep people trapped in poverty.
Recent newspaper articles report that homelessness is on the rise. That more children are hungry. Monroe tells us that 140 million, about 43.5 percent of Americans, are poor and low income. More wealth is in the hands of fewer people. It should make us angry. It should make us act. But those of us who are comfortable find it is too easy to be seduced into complacency. We make up excuses and villainize the poor as creating their own poverty.
Monroe’s book is part biography and the story of her ministry, but most of all it is a manifesto for change. She lists the way capitalism has created poverty throughout history, from the removal of serfs and tenants so landowners can use the land more profitably, to slavery, to incarceration and free prison labor, to the military filled with the poor and then abandoned after service. She notes how notions of white supremacy sets expectations and a sense of failure. How racism divides the poor from the collective activism that could spur change.
Success stories are shared as well as the devastating stories of individuals Monroe came to know in her ministry.
Monroe’s vision is radical. Truthfully, what America needs is radical change, a moral awakening that spurs us to embrace change that ends this great inequality.
Thanks to the publisher for a free book through Librarything Early Reviewers.
I bounced back and forth from a 1-star rating to a 5-star rating. The stories kept me engaged. The information tugged at my drive for research and understanding. I found myself pausing to read other sources to support or investigate the details further. Although intriguing and agreeable, I found an ample amount of irony and hypocrisy, which unfortunately robbed a reader of the opportunity to feel empowered. I ended up giving 4 stars because the stories and circumstances regarding homelessness and poverty are worth reading. I've had first hand experiences that are eye-opening. The people impacted are worth listening to and learning from. I just wouldn't recommend a blanket attempt at blindly following without doing your own research. There is so much more to learn. Would like to see a subsequent book by this author.
This book was very episodic and also extremely repetitive. It almost read as if it was a stream-of-consciousness memoir that the author then went back to add anecdotes and some light data in order to seem more legitimate. The overall effect was a little off putting and quite boring. Perhaps I would’ve enjoyed a book written from a more journalistic point of view instead of this one, which came across as both a rebuke of professionals and a pat on the back for the author themself. “Look at all the things I’ve done and all that my people have suffered. Doctors and nurses and police and social workers are all bad, only my way helps.”
That isn’t to say that the message is completely wrong. Society is indeed deeply flawed and individuals are having to fill in the gaps. However, it wasn’t until the very end that the book talked about solutions, and even that was focused more on anecdotal stories of movements and Capitol visits than what I as a citizen can do. The truth is, I’m not willing to do the work that the author does. (I am a librarian, so I encounter unhoused people every day. My workplace is a safe, clean, quiet, and FREE space for everyone. But I have limits in my workplace and my own personal tolerance, just like doctors and social workers and business owners do.) Focusing a greater part of the book on how to affect systemic change would’ve been more valuable to me instead of leaving me feeling like I was just reading vaguely academic tragedy porn. The fact of the matter is that we do, at this point in time, live in a capitalistic society. Talking about how much capitalism shouldn’t exist doesn’t make it go away. Calling for a return to communal land doesn’t eliminate private property. Sharing stories about exploitation doesn’t make people less exploited.
So after all of this, why two stars instead of one? Because this is an own-voices story, and it’s a topic that I’ve never really explored before. It was brave of Monroe to tackle this subject, and I think it was accurately contextualized. White privilege was acknowledged as often as the deep suffering of the poor was acknowledged. This was a different lens through which to explore a condemnation of white supremacy and capitalism than I’m used to reading, and I appreciate that and want to give credit where credit is due. It also led to some thoughtful discussions with some people in my life, and I’m grateful for that.
3.5 stars. I live near(ish) the community profiled, have spent time there, & had some similar experiences to the author, so I was interested in learning about their ministry & organizing efforts. The author does a good job about acknowledging the pitfalls of centering a white experience and in crediting the BIPOC folks they learned from. Overall I think it’s too broad & scattered, & doesn’t successfully weave all their ideas into a cohesive narrative; and could use tighter editing. The over-earnest and rhapsodic tone can grate, though I can see why they make these choices (other current books/POV that demonize these populations). What it does best, perhaps, is present loving and moving vignettes of persistent systemic failures and provide a refreshing alternative to mainstream rightwing narratives about poverty, capitalism, overlooked groups, & religion. And more rare - conveys some sense of hopefulness that together we can create a better world.
This was an incredibly powerful book. It provided an in-depth look at what it is like to be truly poor in this country. It's easy to write off the homeless and the addicted but the author shows that everyone is deserving of respect and dignity.
This book took me longer to finish than I anticipated—despite its stellar accomplishments—because it was so intense that I needed to take mental health breaks from it once or twice in the course of reading it. This book could be a tour de force and ought to be read by anyone interested in social justice and the systemic failures of neo-liberal Capitalism. I am reservedly giving this book 5-stars because of its significant messaging and important revelations. But if I were to base my rating on the merits of grammar and content flow issues, I might have given it 4 (or 4.5) stars. These are editing problems that should have been addressed before publication of this important memoir and call to action. I strictly place blame on the publisher for the carelessness of releasing a book before it has been properly edited and proofread thoroughly. If a publisher really is interested in publishing work that will change the world, and they have a manuscript they believe is worth printing, the onus of fine-tuning a book, and producing respectable literature cannot always be the sole responsibility of the author (as is too often the case). Shame on Broadleaf Books Publishing for not taking more care with the editing of this book and helping this author produce something that deserves greater attention.
The book is divided into sections: "Origins"; "Survival"; "Death"; "Resistance"; and "Building." These descriptive sections are perhaps appropriately named, but the stories/chapters they contain are not necessarily chronological, which can be frustrating at times. And also, while the author obviously had some very intense personal relationships with many of the homeless individuals described, many of them do not receive a lengthy-enough or in-depth enough storytelling picture that would make readers more sympathetic towards them. The author expects our sympathy for them based solely on her associations and the fact of the poverty they have withstood. Her own traumatic upbringing is also obfuscated by inefficient details—perhaps a coping mechanism of dealing with the horrific traumas of an impoverished childhood—but would certainly be more effective were she able to face those ghosts and provide the horrifying details through more extensive storytelling.
Nonetheless, the stories that are relayed detail a world often hidden from the middle class because we don't want to see it, but which is edging closer and closer, and even flooding-over into, middle class view because of the increase in economic disparity...the fact that more and more middle class Americans are falling into poverty and the desperation that accompanies it. The author correctly attributes what many of us consider "lawlessness" as survival techniques of the poor. If you don't have anything to eat, and you are about to die of starvation...of course you are going to obtain food any way you can get it, including through theft. If you don't have a place to sleep, of course you are going to bargain with anyone—including drug dealers—who will allow you to sleep on their sofa for a night.
The main take-a-way from this book is that Corporate Capitalism has created systemic social values that encourage the impoverished to attack the poor of their own class, encourages racism, anti-immigrant sentiment, and has gaslighted Americans to believe that they are entitled to property. Well, what happens when you realize that property is out of one's reach and that governments penalize you or criminalize you for your lack of property? (Perhaps we should think harder about why America has the highest incarceration rate in the world....) There are too many difficult truths in this book to ignore. There are a lot of tales the author recounts that will make readers extremely squeamish, and others that are so dreadfully depressing that I needed to take the aforementioned temporary "breaks" from reading...but perhaps we need to hear more stories that make us squirm...more stories that outrage us and call us to the action we should have been taking all along. This is a book that other governments would have suppressed if our Constitution didn't afford us the right of free speech.
It's not until the end of this book that the author reveals that, even after successfully creating social reforms and obtaining property that could serve as a salvation for desperate and recovering individuals, that she, herself, was overcome by a magnitude of depression and hopelessness that caused her to quit her chaplaincy and her work as a pastor (at least for now). That must have been a heartbreaking and tough decision to make at the crux of so much success. But I'm glad she gave herself the attention she deserves to attend to her mental and spiritual health. This book was apparently a result of her reflections after that decision, and I, for one, am grateful that she shared it with the world. I am changed by it. It is one of those books in which I have stuck a hundred flags at significant passages and to which I will refer when debating others about homelessness and the faults of Capitalism. It is a book that I will likely purchase more copies of and share with others social justice warriors, and people I love that need persuading about the real causes and issues surrounding homelessness. The world needs more Cedar Monroes. If she decides to expound or extend the writings of this book in future editions, I would heartily imbibe her new prose. Sadly, if it weren't for the lack of proper editing, this book would be award worthy!
As other reviewers have mentioned, this book isn’t the most well-written and it can be a little preachy. However, the author has enough of a unique perspective and experience that made this worth the read for me. If you’re not from the working class, you’ll likely learn things from this book. And it had me reflecting on a moment where I wanted to dismiss the book due to some of the issues with the writing. Yes, better writing makes it easier to read, but how many perspectives do we miss out on altogether if we dismiss a book for this reason? Are we policing the skills/resources required to present a topic to the world in this format? Isn’t that part of the problem?
They say we are trash people. White trash. That’s the opening to Cedar Monroe’s memoir/study of how white supremacy and capitalism has harmed poor white rural America—all while convincing them it is their savior. Monroe makes the case that when it comes to studies on and empathy for those in poverty, those considered “white trash” are often overlooked. They write that when they began to study white, rural poverty and its causes, they experienced opposition from both sides—both the conservative white religious groups they’d grown up in and within the liberal academia they were now part of. Trash: A Poor White Journey offers a compassionate understanding of poor whites, details how they came to be in that position, why they believe what they believe, and how they can move forward.
The most powerful part of Trash is the way Monroe frames the conversation. Because of their background, they are able to offer thoughtful and nuanced perspectives on the plight of poor whites. One of the most common stereotypes about this group is that they are uneducated, racist, and vote against their own interests. And stereotypes are generally created because they have a basis in reality. Monroe suggests that impoverished whites have “failed” white supremacy and, having done so, aren’t seen as worthy of redemption or help. Poor whites then, having been given this false birthright of supremacy, grasp for what distinctions they have. This leads to racist thinking against minorities and blaming minorities for attempting to usurp their supremacy.
Monroe writes how all this plays out in the life of her family and those surrounding her throughout her childhood. They tear down some of the liberal myths of white poverty and correctly aim the problem not at minorities but the systems of empire that require vast amounts of people to remain impoverished. Trash is beautifully-written, incisive, and cutting. Readers are taken from homeless camps in DC to the hills of Appalachia to the drug-ridden towns of the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest and more. Trash doesn’t just give facts and suggest policy, it tells stories.
And let me tell, these stories are how we gather the empathy, desire, and knowledge to demand change. Facts and figures won’t do it. White paper and policy suggestions won’t change a thing. What we need is to be confronted with the humanness of the poor, to understand their grit, their desperation, their work ethic, their hopelessness, in all of its nuance and complexity. This is where Trash excels. Cedar Monroe prophetically unveils to us the reality that so many live with. And just as importantly, for those living within that reality, they unveil the real root cause and offer hope for the future.
The epilogue of the book offers a stirring and powerful call to action: “We have to find strength in the stories and resistance and faith of our ancestors. We have to rediscover our oldest stories, our deepest strength…We are not trash, like we have been told. The systems that kill us are trash…We can rise.” That powerful message of hope is a lifeline in a dying world.
Being human is a complicated endeavour. We live lives or through moments of beauty in the midst of tremendous ugliness, violence, or pain. We are vulnerable, fragile, and mortal. We are also often cruel, often dangerous to ourselves and others, and cause harm to one another. Monroe has managed to capture some of this in this excellent and important book. My mood while reading Trash was mostly outrage. The US sets itself up as the “richest” and “most powerful” country in the world, but fails so very many of its citizens—mainly non-whites, but also poor white people (33 of the white population of the US, and 20% of the entire US population), all those people considered surplus; people who deserve better simply by reason of their citizenship. Monroe grew up in a working class, almost all-white coastal community in Grays Harbor, Washington. They escaped through education, but moved back to serve as chaplain to this underserved community—particularly the unhoused. One of the main themes of Trash is Monroe’s attempts to promote class solidarity across racial barriers, and the poisonous nature of white supremacy to this. In Moore’s telling, after W. E. B. Du Bois and others, white supremacy (as a capitalist tool) thrives on separating poor and working class white people from those in the same class and situation, thereby achieving its ends. But Trash is not just theoretical. Monroe has lived out all of these things in their childhood, and as an adult, in service. It’s a beautiful and crucial work among those who are usually silenced. Outsiders and onlookers (as well as politicians and the business class) may not see huge effects, but lives are being changed. It has come at tremendous cost to Monroe and other workers, through resistance from those who should help, through oppressive national (federal) policies, and through actual physical attacks on activists. Monroe had taken a break by the end of the book (after a breakdown); but the work goes on, because it must. Because even though it’s heartbreaking, exhausting work, it’s important work. There’s much to ponder. As a Black African woman, there are experiences I have no access to, ways of looking at the world that I can’t even imagine until they’re told to me. Monroe has opened up the world of a section of white, working class America to me, and its bare bones don’t look all that different to Black, working class Zimbabwe. In Trash, Monroe addresses unemployment, homelessness, and drug use among the poor; but also capitalism, racism, and settler colonialism, and accepts even their own positionality (and that of all non-Indigenous Americans) as part of the problem. There are many clear and obvious answers, but clarity doesn’t mean anything in broken systems. Trash is a clear-eyed, piercing, impactful, and very personal presentation of just what poor people in the US, and by extension, across the world, are up against. It’s a hard read, and a profoundly necessary one. Many thanks to Broadleaf Books and to Edelweiss for early access.
Trash chronicles the ministry and mission of Cedar Monroe in Grays Harbor County, Washington State. They got their Masters in Divinity from Episcopal Seminary, and returned home to Grays Harbor to work with the unhoused and poor.
Monroe focuses on how our country has used white supremacy to separate the White poor from the Black poor and both from the Indigenous poor. They talk about their efforts to unite these groups, both in their area of the country, and across the entire country, to fight for the rights of poor Americans. They point out that collectively, poor people have power, if only they band together.
The anecdotes Monroe shares about the people they work with living by the River are both heartbreaking and inspirational. Some people "made it" and escaped the cycle of homelessness and drug addiction, while many did not. Monroe emphasizes that both groups are worthy of consideration and care. Too often, organizations strive to serve those who are ready to make the first step towards leaving homelessness and drug addiction, and it is the rare group that meets everyone where they are. Monroe's ministry did so, and their nonjudgmental treatment of all people led to some really wonderful things in their community.
At times, the book is hard to read, and this is certainly a heavy topic to consider. However, it is a must-read for anyone who feels moved to serve in their communities and provide services for unhoused and underserved populations. It is a rallying call to all poor Whites to break out of the mindset that white supremacy has tried to offer them and to work with poor people of other races to stand up for their rights.
Thank you to Broadleaf Books for an advance copy of this very important book.
I listened to the digital audio version of the book. I think the cover of the book is great. Its probably what drew me to Trashed. I was excited to listen to the book to hear what the author had to say.
One thing I remember the author saying from the book is that no human being is trash. I am not sure she said it exactly like that but, I liked the message.
I found it interesting to learn about the people the author had worked with and things she has done to help poor people.
Later in the book she talks about some of the hate that has been directed at her because of the work she does. That surprised me that people would be so hateful of her because she tries to help homeless and poor people.
Also the book made me think about how I think about poor and wealthy people.
I thought Trash was full of interesting people and interesting stories. It definitively keep my attention and made me think. Trash is a much better book than I thought it would be. Even though the title of the book is Trash the book is certainly not trash.
I was very interested to read this book, but... then I did. And it is bad. It is dull, preachy, self-contradictory, and absolutely smacking of grievance. I would be interested to know how any Native readers felt, because to me, the portrayal seemed very "noble savage".
Monroe writes with a lot of vitriol toward liberals who see people like them as worthless and uneducated. (This is not backed up with more than a single anecdote.) But here's the problem... they come across as pretty damn uneducated. Not worthless, mind you, just narrow-minded, and therein lies the problem. This could've really worked as a personal memoir. Instead, it's someone who is determinedly not an academic trying to make a broad, humanizing study of a subject on which they are heavily biased and openly emotional.
You can kind of tell they're not used to looking outside their own community by the way they present this screed as if it were a research paper. And it's a damn shame, because in this era, we need calls for compassion like this wants to be.
Was on my tbr for a long time so when I started reading and found out it took place in my home state I was excited but it was just slow and not in-depth enough. I wanted something more fact based and while this did have some peppered in, it was mainly memoir style and not explained very well. It seemed like every chapter was the same thing and I wanted more in-depth about the people who lived in poverty but at most they only got a short chapter each. It was a definite slog to get through and was a tough one for my first non-fiction of the year. I do applaud the author for their work and they seem like an interesting person, this book just was not what I was expecting nor do I think it was for me. I wish the author had just made it a memoir instead of trying to do whatever this was, their upbringing sounded very interesting as well as their overall life path but we only got very scattered information about it.
This is a book primarily about homelessness in Washington and the crusade of a white pastor. As a social worker myself, this book read like an educational piece for those not familiar with the poorest of the poor. There is an underlying white savior character, who seems to be well known in the area. The focus of the stories is on the life and work of the pastor vs the people impacted by poverty. I appreciated that the book shifted to solutions and interventions in the last third but again, it felt like a testimony to all the good work the pastor has done vs what can be done across the country for people who lack power and resources.
I spent my adolescence living in Grays Harbor where the book is set. Monroe artfully weaves data and history into stories about the human beings who are living at the edges of a city that has bore the brunt of capitalism. Trash connected a lot of dots for me about white poverty, Christian nationalism, and economics. I am grateful for the witness and testimony of Cedar Monroe. Read this book if you find yourself wondering why poor white people are voting against their own self-interests or blaming them for the rise of MAGA. Monroe offers a compassionate way forward.
Not a fun book to read! But I HIGHLY recommend that Everyone read this book! There is so much information and history here. Capitalism, colonization, white supremacy, the Black Panthers, Poor People's Campaign, there is so much in this book. The title is "Trash: A Poor White Journey" but it really encompasses white, black, brown, Native peoples. We all need to understand these issues and how our society has and is creating "trash". and we need to band together, ALL of us, to solve these issues. HIGHLY Recommended reading.
This book is a memoir style read about Cedar Monroe's journey through being a poor, white child into adulthood and creating a community amongst the poor. This is an (often scathing) review of "whiteness" and the stigma that has been created around the poor. It tells of how the country has really failed the poor by pitting different races and communities of poor against each other. I think this should be a mandatory read for people as it does a good job of setting the scene and creating the background of the systematic failures of the American Empire. Really good read!
I received it as an advance reader copy, for full disclosure, but it genuinely is such a good book about an unusual life. Monroe writes beautifully about their experience of growing up poor and weird in America, and they capture the community that forms as they work as a street chaplain in the midst of homelessness and struggle in Grays Harbor, Washington.
This book talks about the world people don't want to talk about. Poverty, homelessness, addiction, corruption. First hand account of the struggles of survival and death on the streets. Injustices on people in poverty in coastal washington. Voiceless people shouting in silence to be heard, and a street smart priest helping to empower them
Compassionate. Informative. The underlying message: poor people of all hue are being manipulated by the same fat cats whose interest is only in furthering their own gain. The manipulation of white poor people -for their blind support and anesthesia - is through the falsehood of white supremacy and nationalism. I learned that from this book. Something I had never considered before.
This book jumps around a lot. It is more than the tale of poor white people. This woman has worked with all races. Poor people have a tough life. White supremacy has prevented poor people from all races from working together. This is not a new tale. I would like to hear a conversation between this author and Jonathan Metzel, author of “Dying of Whiteness”
Cedar Monroe’s identification of the source and cause of white poverty, or poverty in general, are solid, even thought-provoking. This book falls short because of its need for good editing—it is SO repetitive. The issues Monroe identifies defy simple solutions, but it would have been nice had she at least suggested abstract ideal, like we must return to the land.
So much of what has happened in Greys Harbor (where most of the book is set) definitely parallels what has unfolded in my community. Reading this makes me feel not so much despair about the divisions in my community over homelessness, and also inspires me to keep working for change.
This book contains powerful stories of what happens to people who experience poverty and the realities of the system we have — one that doesn’t hardly recognize people living in poverty as worthy human beings. I highly recommend it.
I couldn't put this book down. It's a stellar blend of memoir, history, public policy, and real narratives. The situational context and focus on intersectionality expanded the perspective of the book and makes it a worthwhile read for anyone.
Less cohesive and in depth than I would have liked. Still interesting nonetheless and good imo to hear their stories. Sad to consider how white liberals seem to prefer to align themselves with poor POC instead of poor whites.
Having grown up in the community this book focuses on, I felt seen. A great look at the root of white poverty and the intersections of this complex issue. A tad repetitive, but something all who work in social services in any rural community should read.
Dnf. I just couldn't push my way through this one. Partially because I could relate and partly because I felt beaten to death with the authors pain. It was just too much.