Barbara's Guest Commentators

Greatest Nation in the World? How the U.S. Stacks Up for Those In Labor

By Ellen Bravo

Recently I gave a talk in Calgary, Canada for representatives of credit unions from around the world. The woman who introduced me, a director of marketing, was Canadian. “I just got back from maternity leave,” she told me, raving about her first child.

I know that Canadian law allows for nearly a year of leave at 55 percent pay. “How long did you take?” I asked.

“Oh, the whole year,” she replied. I mentioned that the Family and Medical Leave Act in the U.S. provides for considerably less time, 12 weeks, and that the time is unpaid. (I didn’t mention that it covers only half the workforce.) The vast majority of new mothers in the U.S. are back at work before 12 weeks. More than half of them get no pay at all.

Could she imagine having returned that soon, I asked. She worked her jaw for a few minutes without speaking. “I just couldn’t have done it,” she said finally. I felt as if I’d asked her to imagine feeding her child weeds.

Our interaction reminded me of that scene in Michael Moore’s film “Sicko” when he asks the Americans living in France how many sick days they received. “If you’re sick, you stay home,” one of them told him. “Yeah, but how many days do you get?” The answer: as long as you’re sick.

Hard to imagine for those living in the U.S., where no state or federal law requires any paid sick days at all – and where half the workforce has none. Seven out of ten workers in the U.S. have no paid sick time to care for a sick family member.

The next time you hear some lobbyist argue that our lack of standards is about economic competitiveness, remember this fact: Of the 20 most competitive nations in the world, the U.S. is the ONLY ONE which does not guarantee any paid sick days. Eighteen of those 20 countries guarantee at least 31 days of paid sick time.

Three decades years ago, when I was pregnant with my first child, a friend in France wrote me to say how sorry she felt that I had to have my baby in the United States. She went on to list the standards available to everyone in France – not just paid maternity leave, but high-quality child care available on a sliding scale basis for babies, and pre-school free to every child at age two and a half. Nearly all French parents sent their kids to those pre-schools, even in homes where a parent was available during the day, because the experience was so positive.

At the time I was taken aback by my friend’s letter, a little embarrassed and a little envious. Today, I’m just angry – and determined to see this change before my children have children.

For those who labor and go through labor, or simply need time to care for loved ones of any age, it’s about time we created some new rules in this country – like a minimum number of paid sick days, and insurance programs that provide at least partial wage replacement during family and medical leave. It’s about time we made sure that family values don’t end at the workplace door.

I’d sure like to say to friends in other countries that the U.S. no longer stands alone.

Ellen Bravo is former director of 9to5, National Association of Working Women and author of the recently released Taking on the Big Boys, or Why Feminism is Good for Families, Business and the Nation (Feminist Press at CUNY).

The Death of Democracy

by Pete Orthmann

Having had to scratch around for survival all my life, I confess total ignorance about living life as a mega-millionaire. From this distance, it all seems so….. phony, and actually down-right disgusting. Phony because, they apparently judge themselves and everyone else on the basis of stuff as opposed to personal qualities. Disgusting because most are so totally self absorbed they fail to even notice the people around them who are literally clinging to the very edge of life. Disgusting also, because they are oblivious to the devastation caused by their excesses. Sure, there are obvious exceptions like Bono, Oprah, Paul Newman and a handful of others. But for the most part, the super rich seem compelled to proudly demonstrate complete self-indulgence.

Until recently, these people and their obscene indulgences were kind of like bees, where if you don't disturb them they won't bother you. Sadly, that is no longer true. One of the latest, greatest, "gotta have" super expensive goody is a vacation home in the mountains of western North Carolina. These multi-million dollar get-a-ways are definitely out of the way, so part of the attractiveness is the runway being gouged out of a mountain. Then, our pristine mountains will become covered with sprawling private houses, golf courses and exclusive shopping areas.

Seldom, if ever, does anyone even pretend to consider the environment, for the wildlife, or for the existing human population. So while the surface is carved up like a turkey, underground is home to miles of pipes. To the super rich a septic system would not be acceptable for waste disposal. The answer was obvious and simple. Construct a sewage treatment plant capable of processing 300,000 gallons a day, and build it far from the mega-houses. In fact, construct and operate it where the current (not wealthy) residents live and then dump the discharge into a lovely little creek that meanders through people's yards. Quite literally, the super rich will be pooping on the poor.

Instantly, when these disasters pop up both logic and civil due process vanish. With a wink and a nod from all who should be protecting both the existing social and environmental welfare, developers devastate large tracks with the speed and thoroughness once reserved for bombs. The new "golden rule" becomes a law of the day. You know, 'He who has the gold shall make the rules.'

Abandoned by all government agencies at all levels, local citizens frequently band together in an effort to insure some degree of fair and reasonable limits are enforced. In western North Carolina a small group of intrepid spirits organized the Laurel Valley Watch. The first effort was to appeal to the county commissioners. By attending the meetings they learned that approximately half of the business of the county was conducted behind closed doors in secret executive sessions. The nature of these meetings, or the decisions made, were never made public. Recognizing the absence of help there, they moved to the only alternative available, the hiring of an environmental lawyer.

Probably like many before them, they pooled scant funds in an effort to protect their homes and "nature" by waging valid legal battles. The results have been totally disappointing. At one case, the judge nearly fell asleep (some say, he did) during the proceeding, he went to lunch with the defense attorney during the trial and tossed a jury's decision in the trash can. We PAID for our day in court, hired good and competent lawyers, spent two days presenting compelling evidence that the jury recognized as fact. We lost. The reality was that the decision was made before the first juror was chosen. They didn't so much as pretend to go through the motions of an honest proceeding.

At a Board of Appeals hearing the sewage plant was approved following this incredible statement from a board member: "Because the plant will be made by man, it will probably fail sooner or later. At that time they will have to clean up the mess. But that is no reason to not allow this to be built."

Sadly, Democracy does not exist where the mega rich want to play. And that is the worst and most deeply troubling reality from a long list of terrible realities. It is failing us exactly as it did those in Vail, Colorado, Jackson Hole, Wyoming and a long list of other, now private, beautiful locations. The scars on the top of our once beautiful mountain will be visible until the very end of time. The unnecessary displacement of natural habitat for animals and flora and fauna is tragic. The quasi forced removal of local residents, either through harassment or unbearable new taxes, is outrageous. But the loss of Democratic process should concern all Americans no-matter where they live or what their income.

Will Work for Change

There are very few books about community organizers, especially in their own voices. Joe Szakos, executive director of the Virginia Organizing Project, interviewed 81 community organizers from across the country and his wife and writer, Kristin Layng Szakos, put together a terrific book, We Make Change: Community Organizers Talk About What They Do – and Why, available from Vanderbilt University Press. You can contact him – and learn more about the book – at www.wemakechange.org

Will Work for Change

By Joe Szakos

I cheer every time that someone mentions that presidential hopefuls Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton had ties to community organizing. He actually worked as a community organizer in Chicago; she wrote her undergraduate thesis on the famous organizer Saul Alinsky. Maybe, just maybe, more people will become familiar with the work of community organizers!

I’ve been a community organizer for almost 30 years. Most of the time when I get the question, “What do you do?” and I respond, “I’m a community organizer,” I get the “deer in the highlights” look.

As Kristin Szakos (my wife), writes in her introduction to our recent book, “Community organizers are the people who work, often behind the scenes, to help people come together to effect meaningful change in their communities by building effective community organizations. They are there with the neighborhood group working to bring bank loans to low-income homeowners, they are there with immigrant women organizing to get medical insurance for their families, with small-town environmentalists keeping a toxic waste plant out of their community, with parents trying to get schools to respond to the needs of children with dyslexia, with gay and lesbian students striving to create a safe space in their schools, with groups working to reduce the ravages of racism in their towns and institutions.  Wherever there is a well-organized group agitating for progressive social change, chances are there is a community organizer nearby.”

Some community organizers work with congregations, some work with membership-based organizations, some work with coalitions, alliances or federations. Some organizers work with a single constituency, such as low-wage workers or public housing residents, some work with multiple constituencies. Some community organizers focus on a single issue while others tackle many issues at once; some work at a neighborhood lever, others work in multiple counties, statewide or regionally.

Three years ago, I interviewed 81 organizers from around the country. One of the things I asked them was how they define what they do. I think their answers are instructive.

“An organizer brings people together to sort out specific changes they want to see in the life of the community, develop strategies to get there, and then move into action to make the changes happen,” long-time organizer Ellen Ryan said.

“In many ways, I’m a teacher, not in a traditional classroom but in congregations and schools and neighborhood centers and union halls,” said Perry Perkins. “We teach people about public life and how to claim an active citizenship, living out the democratic notions of civic participation and the republican notion that there are civic virtues that have to be taught.”

Guillermo Quinteros puts it this way: “I’m changing the world. I’m making the world a just place. That’s what organizing is about. There are many ways of doing it, but in the end that’s what it’s about. We’re helping people change their reality. We’re facilitating so that people can create a better world.”

Being a community organizer allows me to work with groups of people to make specific, tangible changes in a community while helping individuals learn important leadership skills. I love having the opportunity—every day— to help people raise their voices about the concerns they have in their communities, especially when it leads to major systemic changes.

I hope that reporters keep asking the presidential hopefuls about their experiences with community organizing, and I hope that the American people will continue to learn about what community organizing is.

Wage to Live

by Nikki Zeichner

New York City is a meeting place of extremes. It’s a place where people that appear to have nothing in common rub elbows in unexpected ways, and find that their lives share many identical experiences and sentiments. Despite an often apparent feeling of anonymity, there is always an underlying connection that we, as city inhabitants, have to each other. Albeit large, we all know that New York City is a community.

And yet, despite the interconnectedness of the millions living here, we generally don’t talk about the way that some people in the City earn unreal amounts of money and others work full time for unlivable wages. Perhaps not having to talk about wage disparity is one of the freedoms of living in the city. However, it’s also a tremendous problem.

In New York City, because the cost of living is high, a living wage for a single person is a little over $18 per hour (based on a formula by Universal Living Wage, which allows rent to only count for 30% of one’s earnings, and based on the Department of Housing and Urban Development’s account of the rental rate of a studio in NYC as $926). Needless to say, many people in the City are earning less than this amount – and a disproportionate percentage of those earning less than a living wage work in the service industry. Many believe that low wages in the service industry are inevitable and that businesses cannot afford to pay higher wages. But profits are growing where wages have not kept pace. The restaurant industry, for example, experienced 5.6% growth in 2006 and is expected to grow by 7.2% by 2017. Such growth indicates that that higher wages are feasible.

Those of us who have worked in the service industry, those of us who work full time and still struggle to make ends meet – and even those who earn decent wages but are aware of the struggle that so many people experience – personally understand the need for wages to become more livable. But how can we, as a community, prove that higher wages will not only benefit workers, and the community, but could be beneficial for the industry?

A 2005 study performed by Cone, a Boston-based strategic marketing firm, found that 86% of consumers are willing to alter their consumption in order to support businesses that further a social cause. The success of recent conscientious consumption campaigns, such as Fair Trade, also show that people want to support responsible businesses and that consumers can have a tremendous impact on wages by choosing with whom to conduct business. Since New York is a place full of both underpaid workers and conscientious buyers, it’s the perfect place to start.

For this reason, a few young, creative lawyers are teaming up with grassroots advocates, religious leaders, social entrepreneurs, and restaurateurs to launch a project called Wage to Live – a conscientious consumption campaign designed to raise the wages of workers within the service industry beginning with restaurants in NYC. Wage to Live will promote responsible business owners who strive to pay their workers living wages and will prove that living wages are a component of smart and successful business. Because restaurants are selected on a whim, and staffed by some of the lowest paid workers in NYC, we expect this consumption campaign to bring about much needed change in the industry and the entire New York City community.

Check out Wage to Live online and become part of our community by joining our mailing list.

The Downward Spiral

by Eric Campbell

I read Bait & Switch when it was first published. I am an IT professional (or at least I used to be), and many of Barbara's experiences in Bait & Switch sounded familiar. I've been there.

The job fairs, where smiling college interns collected my resume while being unable to answer the simplest of questions about the company or the jobs they allegedly needed to fill.

The so-called "recruiters" and "headhunters" who have no real placement or HR experience. They seem delighted just to meet with me, to put me into the all-important DATABASE.

The networking groups, which remind me of the I Love Lucy episode featuring the Friends of the Friendless. People bring cookies and other sweets, perhaps to mitigate the overall bitterness they feel.

I have been told to find spiritual guidance, because HE will help me make my car payments, if I accept HIM into my heart. OK, I exaggerate a little here.

Endless hours spent trolling the online job boards. Monster has 2,347,891 jobs today!

Thousands (yes, thousands!) of resumes and cover letters. I've licked enough stamps to cover the Eiffel Tower. I've created enough digital refuse to fill Madison Square Garden. Still no job.

In the past 5 1/2 years, I have been stuck in a downward spiral. I quit looking exclusively for a computer job long ago. I have applied for jobs that pay less than a livable wage, only to be turned away as "over-qualified".

I have had potential employers not hire me because they were worried about the number of jobs I have had over the past few years. The fact that I have been repeatedly laid-off, my jobs out-sourced, matters little to them. They sympathize, but I still appear to be damaged goods to them.

I have failed to get interviews for jobs that I am qualified to perform. The reasons for this are many: been out of IT for too long; too many employers in too short a period of time; and the very vague yet commonly used explanation of how I am "just not the perfect fit".

I have worked off the books as a painter and landscaper. I have gone broke twice, and I'm on my way there for a third time. I have lost my apartment, been  forced to move in with my elderly parents. I'm 39; they're in their 60's. They (and I) live in a retirement community. Oh, joy!

I have worked for temp-agencies and I took a so-called "survival job", which featured a profane, 73-year-old boss, and a vastly misrepresented job. I lasted a whole year there.

Health insurance is a distant memory. So are most of the dreams I had for myself. Some of my best years have been wasted. I'll never get them back.

I have fundamentally changed as a person. I no longer laugh or make jokes as much. When I do joke around, I notice my humor is tinged with bitterness. I miss the person I used to be.

My personal life is of course intertwined with the professional side. How can I initiate and nurture a relationship when I can't even support myself? At a time when my contemporaries are married, having kids, and moving up in their careers, I just sit on the sidelines and watch. Forever the fan, I long to be on the field.

The goal-oriented man I used to be has been replaced by a depressed soul whose greatest accomplishment today may be fighting off the urge to take a midday nap.

I have learned some things about myself that I can use as positives. I realize I'm a bit stronger than I gave myself credit for, more resilient.

I seemed to have recaptured a compassionate streak I had in my youth. By that, I mean that I have empathy for people who are suffering. Do I volunteer? No, but neither do I simply dismiss the downtrodden as those who simply "don't try hard enough".

I've searched for enjoyment not through the accumulation of "stuff" but through the accumulation of experience. To that end, I have taken up hiking, and I reconnected with my passion for reading.

I have also written several short stories, and I am working on my third novel. All of my work remains unpublished at this time, but I don't sweat it. I have bigger problems. Job-hunting in this day and age requires a thick skin, so when my queries to literary agents and various publications are returned with a "no thanks", I don't let it get to me. I write for myself.

From College to the Library

by Tom Faulkner

I recently went through two months of involuntary unemployment. I was fresh out of college and naïvely thought that I would find a good job relatively quickly. I had all the things an employer should want. I was eager to work, had graduated with honors, and had a prestigious internship on my resume.

I had my first interview right after graduation. My girlfriend’s roommate referred me to the company where she worked. I thought the interview was a slam-dunk. Ultimately, though, they went with someone who was a “smooth talker.”

That was the first and last job lead referred to me personally. Two months later I was still unemployed. I emailed and snail-mailed so many cover letters and resumes that I lost track of how many I’d sent out. I made follow up calls when I could. Usually though, there was no name or number given to follow up with. Occasionally I would receive a postcard acknowledging the receipt of my application. The summary of the postcards was, “Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

I realize that I am fortunate. Unlike many others, I had the financial safety net of my family. They were happy to have me home and pay my few bills as long as I was seriously job hunting. My girlfriend was also very supportive.

Despite the financial and emotional support, my situation was difficult. I had feelings of uselessness and worthlessness. I am an independent person; so it was difficult for me to concede that I needed help. Boredom was also a problem. After I had exhausted the new job postings, I did not have much to do while family and friends were at work. I could not afford to go anywhere to spend time (or money!). That left me waiting by the phone. I eventually became a fixture at the local branch of the public library -- thankfully borrowing books is free.

My stroke of luck came to me while at my girlfriend’s place. The smooth talker who was hired in lieu of me apparently did not fit well with the company. The company was now looking for his replacement. I told my girlfriend’s roommate that I was still interested in the job.

The next day I received a call from the company. “Would I be interested in coming in for a ‘second interview’?” I went in and they hired me on the spot. My suspicion that they hired me in desperation is a little humbling, but by that point I could not have cared less.

I am very grateful that I have managed to get a good job. I know that there are others out there who are talented, smart, and well-qualified but just can’t seem to find work. My heart goes out to them. If you are one of those people, you should know one thing. It may feel like you are alone, but you are not. Don’t give up hope.

How I Learned about the Minimum Wage

By Ashley Herzog

I was seventeen years old when I wrote a school essay entitled “The correct minimum wage: $0.00.” Back then, I was a budding libertarian, and I was proud of that assignment. I explained my opposition to a government-mandated minimum wage with arguments that many economic conservatives consider hard fact: Minimum wage increases lead to unemployment. They force business owners to pay unskilled laborers more than they’re worth. And besides teens and secondary-wage earners, who really works for the bare minimum, anyway?

The partisan battle over minimum-wage laws was the last thing on my mind when I took a job in a chain restaurant last June. I’d held a few after-school jobs as a teen, but the restaurant job was meant to be my first serious foray into the working world.

I liked my job immediately, especially my co-workers: some were single moms, some were students, and others were second-wage earners, supplementing a spouse’s meager income.

At first, our conversations were limited to the usual small talk about movies, celebrities, and workplace gossip. But as the weeks wore on, I was able to piece together the stories of my new friends’ lives. Although each one was unique, they had a common theme: money was a problem.

They used code words to describe money troubles and the public assistance they needed to circumvent them. When I overheard one waitress talking about her “financial aid,” I asked where she went to college. She reluctantly admitted that “financial aid” was a euphemism for food stamps -- and she’d needed them ever since her husband lost his job.

Relying on food stamps isn’t a worst-case scenario in the world of low-wage work. Another young waitress confessed that she was living in a motel because she couldn’t make the last month’s rent. After swearing me to secrecy, she resolved to find a new apartment within a week -- as long as she could afford the security deposit.

Needless to say, my view of laissez-faire capitalism was shaken. Libertarian philosophy promised that an unbridled free market would provide everything people needed, as long as they worked hard enough. So how could it be that people working two or three jobs, averaging seven to eight dollars an hour, could barely afford necessities like food and housing?

When I asked a co-worker if she had health insurance, she looked at me as if I were crazy. It was then that I uttered the words I never thought I’d say: “Well, maybe they should raise the minimum wage.”

But like many others, she doubted that “they” were really concerned about her. She told me she refused to vote for Democrats or Republicans, “Because what do those assholes know about being poor?”

A few weeks later, I quit that job and returned to college, where I’m again shielded from the realities of low-wage life. I sit in classes where middle-class students and tenured professors debate the minimum wage in theoretical terms. Sometimes I think back to the question my co-worker posed: “What do they know about being poor?”

The answer, for many of us, is not much. The working poor are relatively easy to ignore. They aren’t interviewed on nightly newscasts. They don’t write op-eds for The New York Times. In many cases, they don’t even vote. People who work for wages just above the minimum typically fly under society’s radar -- until financial disaster strikes and they turn to government programs for help. It is then that they are chastised for their lack of self-reliance and initiative.

Maybe in some cases a low-wage job is the first step out of poverty. Of course, most people who have time to philosophize about the minimum wage will never find out for themselves.

Detached, Serene, and Waiting

by Amy Walker

I remember the sick, stomach-churning agony. When I applied for a job, having to prove my worth to a potential employer or interviewer made me nervous. They were sizing me up. I knew my future job could depend on something so minute as stumbling over a word or as huge as how I answered, “What are your weaknesses?”

For one, I have a disability. Cerebral palsy, that is, since the day I was born. I can’t drive, although I’ve tried (and endured the silent disdain of my classmates when I was 16). Transportation will be a problem, although I try to deal with this question as tactfully as possible. I mention taxis and buses, not knowing how reliable they might be if I get  the job. At this point, I’ll take anything I can get because beggars can’t be choosers.

Getting a job is hard, and it’s even harder for people with disabilities. Some work at workshops, but it was my lot in life to be “stuck in the middle.” Obviously, something is wrong with me physically, but the state and federal governments look at my IQ and conclude I’m not disabled enough to need help. Thus, I can be thrown to the wolves, and must go out to seek a job in the “competitive workplace.”

The “competitive workplace,” at least in my life, is code for places like an insurance company that hired me for a 2-day stint filing and stuffing envelopes. They let me go after one day. They said I was too slow when I was working, so I went back to square one. Another “competitive workplace” I toiled at was an electronics company that wanted a secretary. After 15 days on a trial period of 30, I was let go, realizing what this company wanted was an accountant and payroll clerk they could hire for a $6.75 starting wage. I was crushed, feeling like a failure.

What did I do then? I found a job at my current company, albeit temporary and without benefits. Health insurance? I tried to find some through a private broker, but found I was “uninsurable” because cerebral palsy was a pre-existing condition that no company would cover. Not only  am I uninsured, but I cannot be. The same goes for life and auto insurance (if I ever get a car!)

My job is helping people with developmental disabilities to stand up for the basic human rights others take for granted: the right to food, clothing, housing, and most of all, dignity. That means a job if you need one, and most people need to have jobs to pay for how they live.

My job is also grant-funded, and this grant must be renewed every year. If it’s not, I’ll have to either find another job or use my “backup plan.” My savings account is, so far, about it.

What will I do if I lose this job or am turned down for another one? I take heart from the wisdom of Thornton Wilder in his play Our Town. When the exuberant Emily dies, she is told by her mother-in-law to yield to nature, let it take its course in order to be set free from longing for earthly existence. Detached, serene, and waiting, she will be, before she finds her purpose on the other side. Detached, serene and waiting before she lives again.

So will I be if I lose my job or the ones I get in the future, with my mind set on a higher destiny.

The Corporate Ghetto

By Jerold Burrell

I found it incredible how unethical the working environment can be in a corporate setting. My experience has taught me that talent and skill may get me in the door, but at the end of the day what matters is how good you make the boss feel.

After many years of working for smaller companies, I finally took a chance and went to work for Arthur Andersen where I witnessed unfair practices such as sexual harassment and age discrimination toward many coworkers. After Arthur Andersen's demise another big four accounting firm acquired our office. The environment went from bad to worse. In one case, one of the directors of our office promoted an unqualified employee into a management position while many with higher skills and seniority were overlooked. When it became obvious that they were sleeping together complaints were made to upper management. Their solution was to promote the director. The director then promoted his mistress into his old position. She became pregnant and would not disclose the name of the daddy to anyone. After the ethics department "investigated," the case was quickly closed.

The company has a yearly employee satisfaction survey to let the upper management know how things are going. These scores came back the worst ever for our facility. Talking to another manager in a different department, I found out the local management gets bonuses based on good employee satisfaction scores. To get good scores the local management scoped out and targeted employees who they thought might show up as dissatisfied on the survey. They dared not terminate the employees because that would have opened the door to lawsuits. Instead they pressured them to resign through the employee performance review process.

Management expectations and goals are usually included in any review process. But in my department, goals were written ambiguously because the management was so bad at scheduling traceable workflow to an individual employee. At the end of the review, management can state whatever they want. They control the whole process. More than half of my department resigned as a result of this review process.

Where's Human Resource in all of this? We are told that HR is like a mediator to make sure that the employee is treated fairly. HR's real purpose is to watch the backs of upper management to make sure no blood is left at the scene of the crime.

So what happens when an employee is targeted? Everyone goes into street mode, and it becomes a corporate ghetto. Management manipulates the weakest players and empowers them to do the dirty spying on their fellow coworkers. Office gangs are formed with some looking out for each other and others becoming loners. Those with a conscience usually want to help but back off for fear of being the next target. Management can no longer look the once valued employee in the eye. Verbal communication is replaced with emails and instant messages. Younger employees usually quit right away, but the older employees facing age discrimination usually bear it for years. One of this company's goals was to be the "employer of choice". Well, I had enough and chose to move back to a small company with a better position.

How can they do these things and not risk lawsuits? It's my opinion that more time is spent preparing for that possibility than doing a good job of managing in the first place. I have to give it to them, that’s the one thing they do very well.

I got out, but I know others who are still in this corporate ghetto and are now being targeted. It is a real-life soap opera, with too much drama and not enough work getting done. The top leadership gets the blame for this because they are constantly asking the wrong people the wrong questions. They might start with the right question like "Who's your daddy?"

What It Feels Like To Be Poor

by Holly Redmond

After a couple months of having hardly any food for the last week of the month, I learned to budget. I can stretch two hundred and seventeen dollars out over a month for a family of three. My baby doesn’t eat solids, yet -- he’s exclusively breast fed, at six months, but when he does, I’ll likely go to Salvation Army or a garage sale and pick up a food processor, to make all of his food. Every night, one of us throws a load of cloth diapers -- prefolds -- into the washer on cold with about a tablespoon of dish soap. We own our home, a pre 1950's fixer upper and our payments are roughly four hundred dollars a month. For a while, there, our utilities were anywhere from seventy five to one hundred fifty a month. We have window units, but we hardly ever run them. Ceiling fans and open windows don’t do a particularly great job of cooling a home, but, with energy prices the way they are, it’s the only way to go. At night, if it gets too hot, we’ll run the unit in the bedroom.

I learned to budget our food money so effectively from being on food stamps. When you only get a certain amount, you learn quickly. Two adults can scrape and survive on water and ramen, but a seven year old cannot. Being a breast feeding mother, my caloric intake should be a certain level. It’s not, but I do all right.

I have argued with myself over how I wanted to write this. “Write about what it feels like to be poor, but keep it short,” I keep chanting in my head. It’s a lot easier said than done, really. How do I explain to people who are convinced that if you only manage your money properly and use common sense, you’ll be all right? We both use more than a little common sense -- we have to, or we wouldn’t survive -- let alone, “be all right.” It hasn’t been “all right” since a promotion that was supposed to come didn’t; it hasn’t been “all right” since I fell while pregnant and got put on bed rest -- no, it hasn’t been “all right” in quite some time. When your income is a little over a thousand dollars and your essential bills add up to almost two thousand -- there’s not much ‘money management’ wiggle room. Common sense will tell you to “Get a better job!”

What if you don’t qualify for a better job? Those commercials about online schools make it seem like a dream come true -- just train at home while your kids play! If you’ve ever tried it, you know that’s a fat load of crap. My fiancé is 30 hours away from his teaching degree. His job is the big source of income, and he works from eight a.m. till five p.m. He needs classroom time, and he can’t get it. I dropped out of school in seventh grade. Vocational Rehabilitation is willing to send me to school, however, I need to work to pay the bills.

How does it feel to be poor? Be excited about doing something you never thought you could -- returning to school after almost thirteen years of not seeing a classroom, get enrolled, and all set -- then, find out you need to go flip burgers instead.

Hold your two week old baby and try to beg a utility technician not to shut you off in the middle of winter. Sure, it’s going to be above freezing this couple of days, but this is Missouri! Take cold showers because you cannot afford to pay the gas bill.

Lay awake at night and wonder if this will ever change, because you made the steps to change it, only to get kicked back down.

Listen to some jerk say that you’re poor because you are ‘lazy’ after you stayed up all night with a sick kid, spent the day caring for an infant, and then went in and worked a shift at a fast food place being told what to do by someone seven years younger than you -- and then, watch your fiancé collapse on the bed from watching your kids while you were at work, on top of a physically demanding job. Try not to punch that guy who called you ‘lazy’ in the face, because even if you are only making minimum wage, that money is needed.

Don’t get me started on idiots who tell me I “Should make him get a better job” or “You should have hooked up with someone with more money”. Apparently, when you aren’t poor, you can be shallow. I’m not so sure the trade off is worth it, to be honest.

Then again, one more smart remark from my manager, who happens to be nine years younger than me, and I just might decide that depth is beneath me.

That’s what it feels like.