Several regular readers of the New Bedford Standard Times who were impressed by Ms. O'Neill's letter sent me in search of the letter below.
In casino debate, consider the people
By REBECCA O'NEILL
Rebecca O'Neill lives in Fall River.
Casinos matter to me because I see good people there — really good people who want a bill-paying job, or really good people who want to win big and get out of the rut they feel they're in. I guess I should say that casinos matter because the people matter. There is nothing more important on Earth than people, rich or poor, of any demographic or lifestyle.
And so, casinos matter because so many good people play into an illusion intended to make them feel like they are doing the right thing — that wagering even just $20 of their hard-earned money is good for the community or themselves.
It is true that casinos provide some substantial revenue to a host community, so they say that when you place a bet or even buy a scratch ticket, you are "giving back to your community." Are you really? I want to know, really know, what the money does and who it goes to. And the answers might seem incredible.
One of the contributions is Gambler's Anonymous and other gambling addiction programs. In Massachusetts, 100 percent of state funds for these programs comes from the state Lottery. The Legislature appropriates $654,942 annually from Lottery net revenue for compulsive gamblers' treatment programs, and if casinos are allowed, then they too will contribute.
I believe that the insidious promise made by casinos and the state Lottery to provide funds for organizations like Gamblers Anonymous is a far cry from the common good. It is hypocrisy at its purest form. The men and women who find themselves addicted and seeking help are further bullied just knowing that their help is being paid for by the ones who made them sick.
That casino developers can promote jobs without considering where the money comes from, without conscience, makes my stomach turn. That government officials can promote the financial exploitation of the people they are sworn to help, my heart aches with frustration.
I have been told that what other people do with their money is their business, and that is right. I agree. But when that money is used, down some winding path, to provide for me, it becomes my business. I've been told that if I don't like the casino or don't want to gamble, then don't do it. That means moving to Utah.
What I am saying is that people really can't simply look away if they disagree. The exploitation of the elderly and middle class is unacceptable for any reason, and to disguise it as economic development is a lie, tantamount to extortion, and ought to be a illegal. If people want to give $20 back to the community, let them write a check for the schools or the Department of Public Works. Don't waste it on an empty chance at a casino or slot machine.
And I believe that work is work; we all need to do it. But I wonder if — or how — a person rationalizes the fact that the paycheck they bring home from whatever it is they do at a casino was someone else's money a month before, that the money called profits was hard-earned or saved up, yet lost in a moment of poor judgement, lost to chance?
Why does any of this matter to me? Why should I even care? My Christian faith teaches me that Jesus called believers to work for and provide for the poor of wealth and spirit. That covers just about everyone at one point in their life. My faith teaches me that wagers on chance are empty because it denies faith that God is in control.
Whether or not you believe in God is for you to decide, but consider this: Not only do many Protestant and most evangelical churches oppose gambling, but so do traditional Buddhism, Islam and Hinduism, and it is frowned on in Judaism.
We can even step away from religion and see a few secular groups discouraging casinos, such as the Massachusetts League of Women Voters, and for you sports fans, the NFL and the NBA. The list goes on.
So casinos matter to me; do they matter to you?
In casino debate, consider the people
By REBECCA O'NEILL
Rebecca O'Neill lives in Fall River.
Casinos matter to me because I see good people there — really good people who want a bill-paying job, or really good people who want to win big and get out of the rut they feel they're in. I guess I should say that casinos matter because the people matter. There is nothing more important on Earth than people, rich or poor, of any demographic or lifestyle.
And so, casinos matter because so many good people play into an illusion intended to make them feel like they are doing the right thing — that wagering even just $20 of their hard-earned money is good for the community or themselves.
It is true that casinos provide some substantial revenue to a host community, so they say that when you place a bet or even buy a scratch ticket, you are "giving back to your community." Are you really? I want to know, really know, what the money does and who it goes to. And the answers might seem incredible.
One of the contributions is Gambler's Anonymous and other gambling addiction programs. In Massachusetts, 100 percent of state funds for these programs comes from the state Lottery. The Legislature appropriates $654,942 annually from Lottery net revenue for compulsive gamblers' treatment programs, and if casinos are allowed, then they too will contribute.
I believe that the insidious promise made by casinos and the state Lottery to provide funds for organizations like Gamblers Anonymous is a far cry from the common good. It is hypocrisy at its purest form. The men and women who find themselves addicted and seeking help are further bullied just knowing that their help is being paid for by the ones who made them sick.
That casino developers can promote jobs without considering where the money comes from, without conscience, makes my stomach turn. That government officials can promote the financial exploitation of the people they are sworn to help, my heart aches with frustration.
I have been told that what other people do with their money is their business, and that is right. I agree. But when that money is used, down some winding path, to provide for me, it becomes my business. I've been told that if I don't like the casino or don't want to gamble, then don't do it. That means moving to Utah.
What I am saying is that people really can't simply look away if they disagree. The exploitation of the elderly and middle class is unacceptable for any reason, and to disguise it as economic development is a lie, tantamount to extortion, and ought to be a illegal. If people want to give $20 back to the community, let them write a check for the schools or the Department of Public Works. Don't waste it on an empty chance at a casino or slot machine.
And I believe that work is work; we all need to do it. But I wonder if — or how — a person rationalizes the fact that the paycheck they bring home from whatever it is they do at a casino was someone else's money a month before, that the money called profits was hard-earned or saved up, yet lost in a moment of poor judgement, lost to chance?
Why does any of this matter to me? Why should I even care? My Christian faith teaches me that Jesus called believers to work for and provide for the poor of wealth and spirit. That covers just about everyone at one point in their life. My faith teaches me that wagers on chance are empty because it denies faith that God is in control.
Whether or not you believe in God is for you to decide, but consider this: Not only do many Protestant and most evangelical churches oppose gambling, but so do traditional Buddhism, Islam and Hinduism, and it is frowned on in Judaism.
We can even step away from religion and see a few secular groups discouraging casinos, such as the Massachusetts League of Women Voters, and for you sports fans, the NFL and the NBA. The list goes on.
So casinos matter to me; do they matter to you?
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