Poverty is a bad word. Poor, helpless, marginal and powerless are all terms to describe 80 percent of the world's population. Looking at the majority as "poor" and "helpless" only generates misconceptions about a group of people who understand life more than the average American ever will.

Yes, one billion people live on less than $1 a day. Yes, millions of others have open sewers running past their homes. Undoubtedly, the "poor" live in incomprehensibly difficult and degrading situations. But this picture does not adequately describe a group of people whose ingenuity is equally incomprehensible.

The cliche image of poverty is the young child with malnutrition — a protruding belly, set-back eyes and bony arms — in front of a dirty home, surrounded by flies with a look of blank despair on his or her face.

In many cases, Americans look at this image, feel sorrow for this helpless child and try to help. Then they go on with their lives to worry about their own problems. As long as the rich attempt to help in the way they do, it will never be useful.

Besides, it seems that the people who scrape by each day are some of the happiest people in the world. The "poor" don't have time to wallow in their own misery like most Americans do.

A subsistence farmer isn't so depressed about his life he needs Prozac to go to work every day, but he has far more problems than any depressed American. He must sustain his family, find outside help, possibly send his children to school and put his body through manual labor most can't begin to understand. Yet he still spends his evenings with his friends, happy, chatting and enjoying himself even if his belly isn't full.

This description is generalized; there are many cases of unhappiness, domestic violence and problems within poor households. But these problems are no different than those anywhere in the developed world.

If we look at the "poor" as powerful individuals who can innovate and survive despite their relatively terrible situations, we can understand what they need to further improve their lives. We can also understand our own lives better.

Based on America's social and medical problems, it doesn't seem that wealth and prestige make life any better. Our lives may be easier, but no one seems to be particularly happy.

On the other hand, the majority of the poor, who lack wealth and prestige, tend to be far more content with a lot less effort.

We have far more to learn from the poor than they from us. And when we "help" this group, it cannot be defined by our perceptions. The majority of the "poor" don't want to live in suburban houses, have two kids, make money and buy lots of worthless crap.

Undoubtedly, they want more than they have, but they know what they need. Every day they work their governments and economic systems to fulfill their needs and survive.

If we look at how they get water, build homes, feed themselves and find jobs, we can begin to see how we can be useful.

In Mumbai, 6.5 million people (of 12 million in the city) live in slums. Most slums have open sewers, most people are sick and their water is never clean. Ten people could live in one small hut made of plastic and pieces of tin.

It's inhospitable, and the average American couldn't even begin to imagine this style of living, but people in slums are incredibly innovative.

They have nothing, but they always manage to get through the day. They steal, they build, they work, they find food, water and almost everything they need. They even make communities and find happiness, something that a lot of Americans can't say for themselves.

We might never understand the incredible determination and strength of the world's "poor," but in trying to understand, maybe we can live happier lives and be useful. Because in the end, what else matters besides happiness and loving your own life? The "poor" seem to understand this; why don't we?

Reach columnist Brooke McKean at opinion@thedaily.washington.edu.