Chapter 414: Chapter 192: Pittsburgh’s Answer
Pittsburgh, Hill District.
This was once the city’s most troubled slum, rife with drugs, shootings, and broken families.
But today, it looked like a fairy-tale world imported from Northern Europe.
The streets were unrealistically clean; not a single cigarette butt could be seen on the red brick sidewalks.
The once-dilapidated walls were now covered in colorful murals, all with themes of unity, labor, and a green future.
Brand-new banners hung from the lampposts along the road: Community Experimental Demonstration Zone.
Leo Wallace, dressed in casual clothes, walked down the revitalized street.
Trailing behind him were several reporters shouldering cameras and a few left-wing academics scribbling furiously in their notebooks.
These elites from New York and California surveyed their surroundings with a pilgrim-like reverence, their mouths constantly gasping in amazement.
"Unbelievable. This is practically a blueprint for the future of the United States."
"Look at that daycare center. Its facilities are better than a private school in Manhattan, and it’s completely free."
"This is the power of a universal employment guarantee. There are no idle people here. Everyone has a job, and everyone has dignity."
Leo listened to the praise with a polite smile, but the hand hidden in his pocket was clenched into a fist.
What he saw was different from what these academics saw.
In front of the community public daycare, three brand-new school buses were parked. Five caregivers were fussing over four children.
At the end of the street, four government employees in orange vests were sweeping fallen leaves.
A job that one person could have finished alone was now being done by four. One person swept, one held the bag open, and the other two directed traffic or chatted idly on the side.
This was the core pillar of Sanders’s theory: a universal employment guarantee.
The government, acting as the employer of last resort, provided a safety net for the entire labor force.
As long as you wanted to work, the government had to find a position for you at 15 US Dollars an hour, with full health insurance.
If you couldn’t repair roads, you painted murals. If you couldn’t paint murals, you swept the streets. If you couldn’t even sweep the streets, you stood by the road and maintained order.
In short, the government gave you money.
"Mr. Mayor."
A reporter from *The Nation* magazine came closer and asked excitedly.
"How did you eliminate unemployment and poverty in such a short time? Does this prove that poverty can be systematically eliminated as long as the government is willing to invest?"
Leo stopped and looked at the reporter’s eager eyes.
"Because we have redefined value," Leo gave a perfect official answer. "Here, labor itself is value, whether it’s building cars or sweeping leaves."
The reporter jotted down the sentence, satisfied. ’Another golden quote,’ he thought.
The inspection of the Hill District was over.
The mural-covered streets, the children running in the daycare, the formerly unemployed workers in uniform repairing the pavement—it all formed a perfect backdrop.
The press conference was held in the basketball gym of the community center.
The facilities were basic—just a few rows of folding chairs, and the air smelled of the rubber floor.
But no one cared about any of that.
Reporters from all the major media outlets across the United States were crammed into the space.
Cameras from CNN, Fox News, the New York Times, and even Al Jazeera were set up and in position.
They were all waiting for one person.
Daniel Sanders.
The white-haired Senator from Vermont had just arrived in Pittsburgh.
He looked somewhat weary. The oversized suit hung on his gaunt shoulders, his tie skewed to one side.
But his eyes were bright.
A near-religious fervor burned within them.
He strode to the podium. Leo Wallace stood in the shadows behind and to the side of him, his hands clasped in front of him, quietly watching the leader of the Progressives.
Sanders gripped the edges of the podium, leaned forward, and his gaze swept over the forest of cameras and microphones below.
"Ladies and gentlemen."
"Since the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776, the United States of America has existed as a nation for over two hundred years."
"In a few more months, we will once again celebrate this great moment."
A round of polite applause rose from the audience, a standard response to patriotic sentiment.
Sanders paused, letting the scattered applause die down.
Then, in a near-mocking tone, he asked a rhetorical question.
"But what do we have to celebrate?"
The applause stopped abruptly. People in the audience looked at each other, and the atmosphere grew awkward.
"Look out the window, look at this country. We are standing on a pile of ruins."
Sanders raised a finger.
"At this momentous time, we are not faced with fireworks and parades, but with four great wounds that are tearing this country apart."
Below the stage, the reporters in the press section instantly grew excited. They all picked up their pens or turned on their recording devices.
They knew the main event was about to begin.
"First, immigration."
Sanders’s voice turned grave.
"Once, it was a crisis of barbed wire at the US-Mexico border. Now, it is a rot festering within our cities."
"In the past few years, the governors of Texas and Florida have packed tens of thousands of asylum seekers onto buses, shipping them like cattle, and dumped them in New York, Chicago, and Denver."
"They have used human beings as weapons of political retaliation."
"And the result?"
"New York’s finances have collapsed. The Mayor was forced to slash the library budget, cut police overtime, and even close public swimming pools, all just to provide the most basic shelter for this sudden influx of people."
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