There was a big house near a river on a large piece of land. At first, it belonged to a single extended family. Who built the house and how they’d come to own the land was the stuff of legend. As the family grew, they needed people to come and work on the land. Since there was seemingly unlimited space, they built new, smaller houses. Over time, additions added, more and more outlying houses were built, the construction never stopped.
At first there was an abundance: food, shelter, jobs, space. But little by little, things became scarcer. The main house stood, but the new ones were subdivided and then subdivided again. The land became dirty and the people living around the big house, who, broken into fragmented groups, and sharing little in common, started fighting among themselves for whatever they could get, each claiming priority. Soon, there were people living in shacks all over the property.
Even though they’d often criticize it as a symbol of repression, the goal of these people was to live in the original big house. Each group felt they deserved the big house and not just the offspring of the original family and particularly not the people who’d arrived on the land after them. “First come, first serve” was their motto. Some felt especially deserving because their ancestors had been brought there as slaves and suffered under the original owners. The people in the house heard this and finally, though not without violent quarrels, gave in to the wishes of the people. So, slowly at first, then in increasing numbers, selected people were permitted to come and live in the big house.
But once they were situated, they felt ill-at-ease. Everywhere were traces of what paid witness to their former unprivileged status. They decided to remodel the house. They changed the rooms, lowered the ceilings, took down the paintings of the original owners, modifying in accordance with their varying moods. Then one day, someone remarked that the nails used to support the porch were hammered in by a purported racist. The nails were pulled out, the porch became wobbly. Someone said the roof was shingled by slave labor and must be replaced. This was done, but haphazardly, and there were leaks which weakened the structural integrity. In time, every aspect of the house was found faulty, and each was replaced with a poorly-made copy. The house suffered.
One day someone discovered that the main support beam, put in place by the man who built the house, contained fragments of the bones of the people who’d originally lived on the land. Everyone gathered around the main support beam in the basement. They agreed that this beam was the source of all the problems and if it was removed, things would finally be normalized between the original family. So, they all gathered around the beam and, using a strong rope, collectively pulled it away. As soon as this was done, the house crashed down and killed all of them.
The tent dwellers came and lived in the ruins, but since that was all they had ever known, they were more than satisfied.