
There are two types of people in this country:
Those who move on up to the East Side… and those still waiting for their government check in the projects.
Let’s talk about the latter for a moment — specifically, the fictional Evans family from Good Times. You remember them.
J.J. with his “Dy-no-mite!” catchphrases, Florida with her eternal frown of dignity, and James Sr., trying to hold it together while the apartment fell apart. Week after week, they tried to make ends meet in Chicago’s Cabrini-Green-style housing project, all while dancing around the edge of moral lessons and microwave dinners.
Now let me say this clearly: the Evans family meant well. They loved each other. They worked hard. But they were the poster family for what happens when you pin all your hopes on survival, not success — when your dreams are managed by government programs instead of personal ambition.
Contrast that with George Jefferson.
George didn’t wait for a handout.
He wasn’t trying to “make ends meet.”
He was trying to make bank.
While the Evans family was arguing over broken toasters and rationing pork chops, George was opening dry-cleaning stores, hiring staff, stacking cash, and decorating his deluxe apartment in the sky.
Same decade. Same struggles. Different outcome.
See, George figured out what too many Americans — and definitely too many policymakers — still haven’t:
You don’t escape poverty by learning how to suffer with dignity.
You escape by refusing to stay there.
The War on Poverty, launched by LBJ in 1964, claimed it would end poverty in a generation. Instead, it produced generations of poverty, carefully managed by bureaucrats, nonprofits, and task forces who treat upward mobility like it’s a suspicious political ideology.
The Evans family became the cultural symbol of that War on Poverty — noble, likable, trapped.
George Jefferson, meanwhile, became the symbol of what actually works:
- Hustle
- Ownership
- Swagger
- And, yes, capitalism.
But somewhere along the way, America chose to elevate the Evans model over the Jefferson model.
We stopped teaching ambition and started preaching grievance.
We turned poverty into a lifestyle instead of a phase to grow out of.
We taught people how to apply for programs, not how to build businesses.
It’s no surprise that sixty years and $25 trillion later, the poverty rate looks exactly like it did in 1964.
You know what that means?
We didn’t fight poverty. We franchised it.
In the real world, “Good Times” became a trap, not a plan.
And that’s the point:
The Evanses survived the system. The Jeffersons escaped it.
So here’s my advice:
Be like the Jeffersons. Not the Evanses.
Dream bigger than the projects. Work smarter than the system.
And if the government offers you a “war on poverty,” check the return on investment first.
Because odds are, you’ll get a bureaucracy and a bingo night…
…when what you really needed was a dry-cleaning empire and a view of the East River.
Direct Line News is a Maryland-based free-access publication committed to the Republican reform tradition.