Showing posts with label do without. Show all posts
Showing posts with label do without. Show all posts

Monday, August 24, 2015

What We Talk About When We Talk About The Poor

I know I haven't used this blog as much as I used to in the last little while. Moving and general life mayhem have kept me pretty busy. If I have time, maybe I'll start sharing some of it here again, like my mom keeps bugging me to do. Or at least post a picture of some of the crazy plants invading our new semi-tropical Florida lawn. But this week a topic has been heavy on my heart, so I wanted to take a few minutes and write about it, see if I can make any sense of it.

We moved last month, our sixth move in eleven years, this time from Texas to Florida. I like it here a lot. People are friendly to us, the weather is not quite so hot, there are tons of garage sales. It's an extremely politically conservative area, which we knew before we moved, so most of the people here do not share most of our views. Nevertheless, we've been getting on pretty well. I've been going to a new church the past couple of weeks, and this week I sat in on a Sunday School class, my first in years. (At our church in Texas, there was little emphasis on Sunday School, and at our church in Cincinnati, we already had to leave an hour before service to arrive on time!) The lesson for the day was on "What kind of justice does God require?" and it pulled verses from Zechariah 7. Here's the gist of it, in verses 9-11:
The Lord of heavenly forces proclaims:  Make just and faithful decisions; show kindness and compassion to each other! 10 Don’t oppress the widow, the orphan, the stranger, and the poor; don’t plan evil against each other! 11 But they refused to pay attention. They turned a cold shoulder and stopped listening.
The rest of the passage goes on to remind the people of what happened to them when they ignored these godly rules (spoilers: it wasn't pretty.) We had an interesting discussion about what it means to plan evil against each other, in the context of things like gentrification projects that force out the homeless without giving them anywhere to go. Not the evil that is planned qua evil, but the thoughtless evil, the evil that is perpetrated when people blind themselves to the pain of others. Despite what many awesome comic book movies tell us, real supervillains are very thin on the ground these days. There's almost nobody in any position of power or authority who plans and schemes to do evil. That doesn't mean they don't do evil things, often to the vulnerable groups God is telling us to protect! But evil isn't the targeted goal, just a side effect of what they wanted to accomplish.  That doesn't make it right, or godly, but it does make it human, and it brings it home. We can most of us be comfortable saying that we're not planning evil against anybody, but are we letting evil happen as a result of our other plans? Would God draw that kind of distinction?

The discussion wended its way around topics, like good Sunday School conversations tend to do, past the idea of strangers as immigrants (and isn't that a change in how we talk about it away from Laredo, with its heavy immigrant population!), and around the work that the church does in the community. This church I've been visiting has a strong community ministry presence, which is one of the things I like most about it. Some churches are very inward-focused, concentrating their efforts on growing the membership, nurturing the congregation, keeping the property in tip-top shape and ensuring that equipment is always in the best repair. I think that impulse is understandable. It's human nature, after all, to use limited time, energy and resources taking care of your own. But human nature is what we go to church to try and transcend, isn't it? I want a church that measures its influence not by how many members have a bumper sticker on their cars, but by how many of the widows, the orphans, the strangers, and the poor feel the love of God in the touch of the church, whether or not they even believe. It is my absolute rock-solid conviction that the influence of the church is waning worldwide not because of anything culture has done, or any fundamental change in society, but because we are not conveying the message of God's incredible, transcendant, life-renewing love to the world in our words and actions. Without that love, the church has very little to offer except entertainment, and you can get that from an iPad without having to put on nice clothes and sit in a pew.

Near the end of the hour, we worked our way around to the poor, which seems to be the place these conversations always end up. The question became who should help the poor, and how, and gradually it turned into "who are the deserving poor, and how can we help them exclusively?" If you look in the verse, you'll notice that God, through Zechariah, does not draw that distinction. It doesn't matter why someone is poor or how long they have been poor, or what you think about their poverty, it is wrong to oppress them, it is wrong to plan evil against them. But despite that, the discussion always comes up and will always come up, because again, human nature. Humans have a deeply ingrained conception of fairness, and an instinctive indignation at the thought that someone else might be cheating. I am certainly sympathetic to that instinct; it's not like I relish being taken advantage of any more than anybody else. But the fact that this indignation is turned on people on welfare is baffling to me.

One thing I've noticed when speaking to people about welfare, food stamps, medicaid, and that type of program, is that you tend to see a sharp correlation in how you feel about assistance programs and how many people you know who need or have needed them. I make no secret of the fact that we were on foodstamps for almost a year in 2009, when the bottom dropped out of the economy, I couldn't find a job (and then got pregnant) and my husband and I were living on a single grad student stipend. I was on Medicaid in 2009 and 2010 when I was pregnant, and my son was on Medicaid for the first three and a half years of his life. We received WIC benefits through his babyhood. The people I know, the people I've told, have never condemned me for this, no matter how conservative their politics, or their feelings on welfare in general. It might just be that they don't want to hurt my feelings, but I think there's more to it than that. The more people you know personally who need and use assistance, the less you are to see them as part of a monolithic block of "welfare people."

Welfare people are the ones folks talk about when you start talking about assistance programs. Welfare people are always anecdotal and almost never someone you know well. They tend to have lots and lots of kids, and very nice cell phones. They buy steaks with food stamps, which they receive exorbitant amounts of and are always looking for an opportunity to game the system. They have no interest in getting a job, and apparently plan on being on welfare forever. I do not know any of these people myself, but I know lots of people who know them. I have felt the eyes of the people who know welfare people on me many times, and it always makes me feel very, very small. The people who know welfare people would look into my cart when I was buying groceries with my EBT card and decide whether my purchases ($150 per month in food stamps, a princely sum to live on, if you really like macaroni) were worthy of their tax money. They were the ones who stared at me when I brought our iPad (secondhand, a lovely gift from a family member) to a doctor's appointment to keep my son entertained. Small, smaller, smallest, until I became nothing but the sum of my possessions, until the people who know welfare people argued on television about whether I deserved help because I had a refrigerator and a microwave in my home. Until I found excuses to leave the room at family holidays when my relatives began talking about welfare people, because I hadn't told them how bad things were for us, but they were still talking about me that way. Until I didn't even want to defend myself, because the best case scenario is that they would tell me I was nothing like "those people," because I didn't want to be on welfare forever and I wasn't a parasite on the system. So I closed my mouth (most of the time, though there were a few loud arguments here and there), raised my son, and hoped things would change. Which is, I think, what a lot of people on welfare do.

Here's some information about what the welfare people are really like, as a monolithic block. (The numbers are here if you'd like to see them, thank you internet!) Eighty percent of recipients of TANF, which is the non-food-stamp welfare program, are on it for five years or less. Almost twenty percent are on it for seven months or less. Thirty-nine percent of TANF recipients are white, forty are black, fifteen are Hispanic, and the rest are other races. The average benefit for a family on food stamps is $257 per month. (That figure is here.) Fourteen percent of the population is on food stamps at any given time, including 1 in every 4 children. 8.3 million women, infants and children use the WIC program. Crunch those numbers, and we were incredibly average in nearly every way for people on welfare.

My husband made 19,000 a year as a graduate student, so we never qualified for TANF, and never qualified for Medicaid except when I was pregnant and for our child. We qualified for food stamps for just under a year, until my husband took an adjunct professor job to get resume experience. The 200 dollars a month he made (almost all of which was eaten up by gas to get to the remote school where he taught) was enough to push us over the line and lose us our $150 dollars in benefits. That job, while important, substantially worsened our position. I thought seriously about picking up a part time job on weekends or in the evenings, but I didn't dare try for one of the McJobs that were all that was available. They paid minimum wage and didn't come with insurance. If our income got much higher, we'd risk losing Medicaid for the Bug, and I would rather eat macaroni and lose sleep over the bills than not be able to take him to the doctor. (There was no family insurance for graduate students, it wasn't even an option.) When I had a stroke in 2013, I didn't realize it at the time, because I hadn't been to a doctor in three years, and wouldn't have been able to go to a hospital without ruining our lives anyway.

But we were lucky. Strange as that seems to say, we were very lucky, because we had light at the end of our tunnel. My husband finished school and, after a year-long job search, found the holy grail of a full-time job with benefits. It required moving halfway across the country, yes, but it took us out of the ranks of the nearly-destitute and moved us into the lower middle class. That's not an option for a large percentage of people on welfare, who find themselves perpetually in the position where they could lose everything by trying to better themselves, and every road upward seems to be fraught or fraudulent. How do you do the calculus of whether it's better for your child to go to the doctor or be able to play sports and have school supplies? Is it better for them to be trapped in poverty with you there for them, or to have a chance at a slightly better life but never see you because you work two or three jobs? Do you try and save money for the future (bearing in mind that a savings account that is more than a pittance could cost you your food stamp benefits, no matter what you're saving for), or do you take that yearly tax return you don't dare hold onto and use it to buy a few nice things, even though you know people will sneer at you for them? Do you let yourself become small, smaller, smallest, or do you stand up and spit in the eye of people who judge you?

"Show kindness and compassion to each other, do not oppress the widows, the orphans, the strangers and the poor; don't plan evil against each other!" That's what God talked about when he talked about the poor. What, and who, do we talk about, and why?

Monday, March 16, 2009

March 16, a brief divergence

It's very early in the morning on Monday, March 16. I'm waiting for the vet's office to open at 8 because Bella is having a hard time passing an egg. A vet bill is going to cut hard into the finances this month, but it's the obligation you take on when you have pets. You do what you have to do. We used to have an emergency reserve for that sort of thing, but it was wiped out last year by a 1200 vet bill for avian gastric yeast in three of the birds.  The bill would've been much higher, but instead of boarding the birds, I drove them across town to the vet twice a day for their medicine. Two of them survived, one never recovered, and eventually we had her euthanized, because more medicine would only have prolonged the pain. You do what you have to do. 

That's not really what I got on to talk about, though. I owe the journal a post for this weekend, which was full of good food, and that will come later. While I've been waiting for the vet to open, I watched the documentary Super Size Me. I know it's old, but I never got around to seeing it till it showed up in the Watch Instantly queue in Netflix. It made me think a lot about how I eat and have eaten. I agree to a certain extent with the premise of the film, that fast food makes you fat. But I think they didn't go far enough. It's not just fast food. Cheap food makes you fat. The less money you spend on your menu, the further away you get from anything that could be considered healthy. I didn't just get off Weight Watchers because it cost forty dollars a month, though that was certainly one reason. I got off the program because I knew that I couldn't eat according to the healthy plan guidelines and still eat for cheap. 

I'm fairly proud of what I've done with the menu this past few months. I have drastically cut waste in the household, both in and out of the kitchen. We're eating a variety of foods, and we're spending a lot less money. But we are not really eating healthy. Most of our meals are one item. When I say we ate pulled pork, we ate pulled pork. I made a side dish once this past week, and it was potatoes to go with the chicken breasts, so that they would stretch into sandwiches for the next day. Side dishes drive up the cost of a meal. I buy apples almost every week, and we eat those, and sometimes bananas. Bananas go bad pretty fast, so sometimes they end up as banana bread. That's the fruit we get. I buy potatoes, onions, garlic, and sometimes baby carrots, and those are our fresh vegetables. I'm not entirely sure whether garlic is a vegetable, but it's not a fruit and it's in the produce section. We eat lots of pasta, lots of rice, lots of bread, and lots of poultry. Ham and pork make appearances when the price is low, though I do try and trim the fat. Beef has been on the menu twice in two months, once as pot roast and once as sausage. All of these things are versatile, and more importantly, all of them are cheap. 

I think that's the point that the documentary skated towards and missed in the end. At the end of the 30-day McDonald's diet, Morgan Spurlock's girlfriend puts him on a "detox diet" which she describes as being full of organic, nutritionally dense vegetables. That sounds great! I'd love to put more of that into my diet, lots of healthy greens, lots of squashes, plenty of fresh fruits. I can't afford it. I can buy one small acorn squash,or two full boxes of pasta. A pound of peaches, or two pounds of ground turkey. A bag of non-iceberg salad, or three bags of rice. When we went to the wellness movie night, I was far more excited to see veggie-packed taco dip and a fresh fruit  platter than I would've been to see a dozen pizzas. And you know, I couldn't afford to eat every meal at McDonalds, but I could come a lot closer than to affording to hit all the bars on the food pyramid every day. Last month we had fast food Chinese once, and Taco Bell once. No McDonalds. And yet I'm still having trouble holding my weight to where it was when I quit Weight Watchers. Shock! Surprise! 

But what does it mean? I know I need to find a way to get more fruits and vegetables into the next plan. I need to find a way to work in side dishes such that I can stretch one-meal entrees to two, and two-meal entrees to three. If I can do that, maybe the cost will balance out. And maybe with more veggies, even canned or frozen ones, I'll start having more energy. I had a lot of energy for awhile, but now even doing 15 minutes of exercise gets me down. It's worth a shot, certainly. And maybe when I get my container garden growing, that will help too. I'm really excited about that. I've even got my plants picked out, assuming that Bella is mostly okay. Cross fingers! 


Friday, February 20, 2009

Shopping Wish List

One part of this whole plan is that there is not much room left for anything that isn't a food product, whether or not it would be useful around the house. Every so often, of course, I still need to pick up household essentials, though. This usually happens on the triage system, with some items on the list so far down that they will likely never reach the top. Here's my current non-essentials wish list, in no particular order. 

  • Resolve carpet cleaner
  • Filters for carpet steamer
  • Coffee Grinder
  • Shaving gel
  • Matches
  • New plants for outside planters
  • KitchenAid Artisan Stand Mixer (this is a convenient bottom item for any triage list, but it's fun to dream about. Especially with the attachments.)
  • New sheets for the bed
  • Pack of dish sponges
  •  Silver wire for crafting
  • Cable television (another bottom dweller, since there's always the internet.)
  • Febreeze
  • Wrinkle Releaser
  • One of those cool-looking tub wands
  • Light bulbs for my gooseneck lamps
  • Rolling pin 
  • Brita Filters 
There's more, there's always more, but those are the things I've been missing lately. Most are just conveniences that I can live without easily enough. We have plenty of toilet paper, toothpaste and paper towel, and really, what more do you need besides food? And there's generally a workaround for what you need and don't have. Yesterday I was going to use the carpet steamer ($64 from Linens 'N Things last year. No wonder they went bankrupt!) to clean up a mess, but I realized that the filter was apparently disposable and had apparently disintegrated since last time I'd used it. I had the carpet cleaning solution, though, so I put some in a plastic flour container (my mop bucket didn't survive the move here, where I have about 5x2 feet of tile), filled it with hot water, and scrubbed the floors with a washcloth. Luckily I have plastic gloves, cause that stuff's caustic, but the point is that it worked. 

Instead of a rolling pin, I've been known to use the tube part of my turkey baster, or even a ceramic mug. It's not perfect, but it works okay. I have Netflix and we're invited to an Oscar party, so who needs cable? The gooseneck lamps are among the few fixtures in our house that will not take CFLs, so they are a low priority to relight, for all that they are cute and fun. The Febreeze and the tub wand are just shortcuts and labor savers, and if there's one thing I've got right now, it's time on my hands. I can get on my knees and scrub, and somewhere around here I have an iron, if no board. 

 I will probably end up getting the matches, the Resolve, and the Brita filters as soon as money allows. The cat has stopped puking since we switched up her food the other day, but I learned in my last apartment that quick attention to stains saves a lot of money in the long run. With all the crazy weather we've had around here lately, candles are more than an indulgence, but they're not much good if you can't light them! And water is the cheapest beverage around, but only if you can stand to drink it. My current filter is two months old, and I'm starting to taste the chemicals again. Yick. Sometimes you can find bargains on that sort of thing, though, so I'll keep my eyes open.