In a Pennsylvania trailer park, a mother of three makes a wish list. She wishes that she lived in a house without wheels. And that she did not have to embarrass her eight-year-old daughter by pulling her out of her brownie troop because the 50 cents-a-meeting fee is too high. That food stamps could be used to buy toilet paper and deodorant. That she could get a real, professional $30 perm, one that would not wreck her hair. That her husband could find a union job, maybe in construction, that paid $6, $7, even $8 an hour. That after eight years...
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