POVERTY IS REAL

The odds say that each of us, here in America, knows someone who is poor; 15 percent of our neighbors fall into that category. The very real people behind this striking figure are friends, family members and even, sometimes, ourselves. But though this plague of poverty continues to spread throughout our country, ravaging our communities, it isn't discussed openly often enough, according to Poverty Is Real co-founder Michael Killeen.

"I think a lot of people think poverty is something that happens 'over there,'" says Killeen, who co-founded the Decatur-based nonprofit—an all-volunteer outfit that raises money through benefit concerts and the sale of compilation albums—and currently serves as its board president. "It tends not to be an attractive cause to support, despite being such an important cause to address."

Killeen compares poverty to breast cancer awareness, a once-taboo topic that has become so widespread that even professional athletes wear pink to show support. His mission, as he sees it, and PIR's, is to encourage a similar level of public discourse regarding poverty.

"We believe that poverty is a local issue that affects everybody in the community," he says. "From the safety of our neighborhoods, to the quality of our schools, to the ability of businesses to succeed and help employ people to then be able to support their family—we feel like we're all stakeholders, [that] it's a local issue, and it should be treated in a local way."

Though local organizations possess the insight and expertise necessary to address the problems in their own communities, they often lack the resources to do so. PIR's goal is to help kickstart these organizations into gear by raising funds and local awareness. And although all money raised by PIR stays in the local community—proceeds from the organization's second Athens show in as many years will again benefit Whatever It Takes, which works in conjunction with the Athens-Clarke County school system to address education inequity and help students work toward post-secondary schooling—Killeen says the organization works to keep its beneficiaries accountable.

"We work with them afterwards to understand what they'll be doing with the [money], and to hear the stories of the people they're helping. That's sort of the fulfilling part, to hear the stories of the people they're able to help."

WHATEVER IT TAKES

Tim Johnson, executive director of Family Connection-Communities in Schools of Athens, which manages the Whatever It Takes initiative, has plenty of stories to share.

There's the one about the local mother who admitted she wasn't reading to her child because she herself, she tearfully told her fellow neighborhood leaders, could not read. With the help of WIT, she enrolled in a free adult literacy class and ended up with a GED—and the praise of President Obama himself, in a report on the White House's place-based policy program.

Then there's the story that Johnson keeps close to his heart, the one about Robert.

"[Robert] is one of 10 children, and his family had been homeless for most of his life," Johnson says. "They kind of wandered around the state, and when they got a little bit of money together, they would all hide in the bushes, and the stepfather would go to a cheap motel and sign up for a one-person room. He'd sneak all 10 kids and their mom into a cheap motel room for one, and they were so happy to have a hot shower and a place to sleep.

"They wound up in Athens," he continues. "[Robert] was not doing well in a traditional high school, [but through FC-CiS he] got linked to the Performance Learning Center at Classic City High School, [where] it really clicked for him. He was a very smart and talented young man—he wrote a play that was publicly produced, and he wound up getting a four-year full scholarship to Morehouse College in Atlanta. He never could have done that without this organization."

Aside from working in local schools with students themselves, instilling in fertile young minds the importance of learning, WIT partners with parents and caregivers, appointing "neighborhood leaders" to extend the group's work in the community and holding "community conversations" at schools like Alps Road Elementary.

Having worked with Poverty Is Real before (last year's benefit raised $7,500 for WIT), Johnson is effusive about the work that organization is doing. He is likewise grateful for its continuing support. "They came to us," he marvels. "We just show up [at the concert] and say, 'Thank you.'"

THE WORKING POOR

In a town like this, many, if not most, local musicians are human statistics. For a multitude of reasons, not the least of which is the preponderance of service-working artists, Athens suffers from a disproportionally high poverty rate, one that more than doubles the statewide number.

This is not lost on PIR, which exclusively utilizes music to further its mission. "On an emotional level, we believe that music is a very powerful force," Killeen says. "It can unite us and generate change. It's a great rallying point, something we all can relate to."

And musicians can relate to the issue. "Some of the great artists in our country are themselves dealing with difficult financial situations," says Killeen. "It's a group that's willing to contribute to address this issue." In the year and a half he has been operating Poverty Is Real, Killeen says he has yet to be turned down by an artist whom he has asked to contribute time and talent.

The members of local rock band The District Attorneys are no strangers to Poverty Is Real, having played at one of the organization's Atlanta events last year. They're celebrating the release of a new EP, Jr., at the show. But rather than sell it online, the band is giving it away for free and asking that concert attendees donate any money they would have spent to the cause.

Hope for Agoldensummer

"We believe in the cause, in the organization, and we love playing the 40 Watt, and we love playing in Athens," says District Attorneys singer and guitarist Drew Beskin. "It's a major win on all accounts."

Still, there is a deeper, more complicated reality at play, says singer Claire Campbell of Hope for Agoldensummer, who argues that the financial reality faced by most local starving artists pales in comparison to those of many fellow Athenians. Campbell is leery of ascribing the "working poor" label to her colleagues, when in fact many of them come from middle-class backgrounds.

"I think there's a culture of poverty here [among musicians]," she says. "But a lot of that is a conscious choice… We kind of live in this townie bubble, where everything's OK, and everybody's getting by… But [real poverty is] here, and a lot of people are suffering. I feel like it's an important thing to address. Not everybody was helped when they were growing up. Not everybody comes from middle-class households where a college education was the norm.

"It's here," she reiterates. "We've gotta do something about it."

And so they are. Says Beskin, "We get to play music and also hopefully help some other people out, in a small way."