Did you know the poorer you are, the more likely you are to gamble? This is why the slots referendum we'll be voting on in November will place 15,000 slot machines in three rural areas and two low-income minority areas. The poor also gamble differently from the rest of us, at proportionately higher stakes as an ill-advised investment, not entertainment.
The reality is that slots are a regressive tax on the poor that bring negative social consequences. They are highly correlated with gambling addiction, crime, domestic violence and child neglect. By taking advantage of low-income people and minorities to reap profits for our state, lawmakers are showing an alarming lack of morality and vision.
A little over a year ago, there was a noose hanging outside the Nyumburu Cultural Center. Everyone from university officials to student leaders held discussions and rallies about race relations and racism. But the noose represented far more than racism; it represented social oppression of people. Slots are a form of oppression targeted at low-income minorities. How can anyone protest a single noose, yet stay silent or support slots? We're so quick to condemn blatant racism, but we're slower than a snail with arthritis to spot its subtle signs.
Where is the leadership on the campus with this issue? What happened to university President Dan Mote? Where are the College Democrats and College Republicans? How does the Student Government Association not speak up? Are we all paralyzed simply because the promise of funding for higher education is tied to a measure that challenges our principles?
There's a fascinating similarity between the slots referendum supporters and the people that slots will be taking money from. Our university, our Board of Regents and many of our elected officials are desperate. They need money very badly. They're willing to try and acquire it by any means necessary, even if in better circumstances they would prefer to do it differently. Compare that to the people who play slots. Just as desperate. They're just hoping to catch a break against a system that seems more stacked against them every hour of every day. So they play our game.
In this game, the odds are impossible to overcome. Our revenue depends on them losing.
So the single mother pops in quarter after quarter and keeps pulling the lever. The man fighting alcoholism becomes a gambling addict and digs deeper into his meager savings. Children never make it to college to see the higher education benefits their parents paid for. These people may never crawl out of their budget shortfall. It's OK though - we win. Right?
Matt Dernoga is a junior government and politics major. He can be reached at mdernoga@umd.edu.
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