For more than a decade I have been working with women who experience(d) extreme poverty, chronic illness, criminalization and abuse (see the book Can’t Catch a Break.) Early on, I thought that if the women could just catch one break – get a housing subsidy, or get rid of the violent boyfriend, or get a decent job, or just stop using drugs, or have their criminal records expunged they would be able to build the normative, middle-class lives that they wish to lead.
Over the years I’ve seen nearly all of the women, at one time or another, catch some of these breaks. Many have succeeded in renting an apartment, at least for a time, or resolving a medical problem or getting away from a violent boyfriend or having a case dismissed by a sympathetic judge. I’ve even seen women catch a good number of breaks, sometimes out of sheer luck and sometimes because they are bright or charismatic.
But for most of the women, even the good times are fragile. There always seem to be some basic life necessities that fall apart or trip them up, bringing down what I’ve come to see as, at best, a house of cards.
I’ve been thinking lately about now much actually needs to go right for most of us to be able to live the lives we want. We need reasonably good luck with jobs and housing and health and families and romantic partners and safety. Those of us with more resources can withstand the loss of a couple of those pieces, but the reality is that most Americans do not have the resources to hang on for very long when bad luck knocks at the door for any length of time. For people who have limited financial, social or personal (health or cognitive) resources, accidents or bits of bad luck quickly escalate into major disasters. One card blows away and the whole structure collapses.
According to federal surveys, only 40% of Americans can cover a $400 emergency expense. Millions of Americans still do not have health insurance, and even those who are insured often cannot afford co-pays or deductibles. Large numbers of Americans are “house poor”, meaning that their only resource is their home which they stand to lose if they become unemployed or become seriously ill, or if the house needs substantial repairs. And few Americans have sufficient savings for life necessities after retirement.
The women of Can’t Catch a Break are especially vulnerable when things go wrong; and those of us with more resources can withstand a bit more. But eventually, given the piecemeal and deficient nature of America’s safety net, few of us can withstand sustained or multiple losses.
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Pauline’s “Bad Luck”
Pauline, a friendly woman in her mid-fifties, describes her health as, “bad luck.” While in the hospital for a minor surgical procedure she developed MRSA (an antibiotic-resistant infection). That was followed by a heart attack, infections in her bones, toe amputation and knee replacement surgery (it’s unclear whether all of this is related to the MRSA, but some certainly is.) She walks with a cane and sometimes needs a wheelchair. Her health challenges made it impossible for her to hold onto her job at a local college cafeteria.
Several years ago she moved into an apartment after a long period of homelessness (for more on housing challenges see Housing Tribulations.) She appreciated her apartment, but to reach it she needed to climb 36 stairs, which essentially made her a prisoner after the amputation and surgery.
The apartment was especially welcomed because of her son. Pauline had not been able to raise her son when they both were younger. She dreamed of reuniting with him once he reached the age of eighteen, and she was ecstatic when he moved in with her. Within a few months, however, he became violent – throwing furniture around and drew her into screaming matches. The landlord threatened to evict her. The last time we spoke she told me that she was trying to get a stay on the eviction but showed up half an hour late to court (due to the “Ride” – the notoriously problematic public transportation system for people with disabilities) so didn’t get a chance to plead her case.
And so her house of cards collapsed. She is homeless once again and seems to have resumed the substance mis/use that she had successfully “recovered” from five years ago.
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Jessica’s “Karma”
Blue-eyed, blonde hair Jessica has experienced more than her fair share of ups and downs. Her dream is to work with women who, like her, have been victims of domestic violence. She said, “I want to help with the challenges for women and for people with different cultures and people with disabilities. I am good with people but I am challenged with organizational skills. I’m a work in progress.” A couple of years ago she landed a job at a homeless shelter, hoping this would be a step towards her goal, but was fired – without any inquiry – when she accused her supervisor of violence against women. (See Fighting Rape Culture: Real Tips.)
Several years ago Jessica settled into a positive relationship with a man she describes as “not like the other men in my life – he never used drugs”. He was steadily employed until he was in a major car accident (he was a passenger) and broke his neck. “I keep running into problems,” she told me. “Today’s a good day but something [bad] will happen tomorrow. What kind of karma is that?”
As another example of her karma Jessica recounted her recent housing history. “I had a wonderful apartment [in Lawrence] and planted a garden. Then I had to move. Then I moved again. Then they [the local housing agency] moved me into the worst drug street in Lawrence” where there was constant drug dealing going on outside her window while she was trying to maintain a drug-free life. She did not have the resources to move to a better location.
It’s unclear what exactly happened, but without the back-up of savings in the bank, a job, good health (she has rheumatoid arthritis and clots in her lungs), or a supportive family she now is homeless. Ironically, she recently was featured in a local newspaper showing her holding a boxed meal from the soup kitchen and telling the reporter how “blessed” she is to be able to get a meal.
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Carly’s “Howevers”
Carly, a young white woman, wants nothing more than real friends – the kind of friends she can count on, who accept her for who she is, and who laugh with her rather than at her. Over the years that I’ve known her I’ve watched her struggle with physical and mental health challenges that seem to make her vulnerable to people taking advantage of her.
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Until fairly recently Carly had an apartment (see A New Home for Carly). However (and there’s always a “however” for Carly), she lost her eligibility for rental subsidy when she lost custody of her child due to a mental health crisis (see September 2018 Update.) She then spent a few months staying with a friend who demanded that Carly pay rent, cover other bills, babysit her children and look after the dog (Carly is scared of the dog.) The friend, however, wouldn’t even go to the trouble of bringing Carly a change of clothes when Carly spent a month in the hospital.
Carly’s sister and brother-in-law, who live on the other side of the country, now have custody of her child. Carly did not want to give her child up, and she is sad about the whole situation, but she acknowledges that her sister and brother-in-law are good parents. Carly particularly appreciates that they have allowed her to maintain a relationship with her child through regular “Face Time” visits. Early this summer Carly spoke optimistically about plans for in-person interactions when her sister and family come to Boston in a few months.
Recently however, a man whom Carly always has said is the child’s father (he always has denied that he is the father – likely out of reluctance to admit to sexual contact with someone suffering from Carly’s disabilities), suddenly decided that he wants to have a relationship with “his” child. As a consequence, Carly’s sister is limiting Face Time out of concern that the man will be in the room when Carly speaks to the child. She also has put the offer for an in-person visit on hold. The sister’s concerns are well-founded: The man orchestrated a group rape of Carly when the baby was an infant, asleep in the next room.
Carly explains that she is able to manage the pain in her life because of her deep Christian faith. This past year she became part of a church that she appreciates for the intense worship services and strong community. However, in order to be baptized as a full-fledged church member people are required to confess every sin they have ever committed. Carly did so, “and then they used that against me”, bringing up the past as a way to demean her, and “forgetting” to inform her of changes in location or time of church services – more than once leaving her standing outside an empty building while the congregation gathered somewhere else.
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Francesca’s Survival Skills
Readers of this blog have come to know Francesca well. (See The Bitch at the Welfare Office.) She has extraordinary social skills and has taken responsibility for maintaining our relationship, calling when she knows that I’m dealing with a problem, and making sure that her kids and grandkids get to know me as well.
One of the most resourceful people I know, Francesca called me in tears one night in February. “Trump did a fucking job on us [regarding food stamps during the government closure].” She told me that she did not get extra food stamps in January and now had no means of getting food. She called the local food pantries “but they have no food. I try so hard. I spend the days walking around.”
The next morning, I loaded up my car with packages and cans that I have the resources to keep in stock in my own pantry. Scraping by on food stamps, Francesca never has that luxury. I made a particular point of packing up shampoo, dish soap and toilet paper, items that are not covered by food stamps and that eat into a large chunk of the $750 SSI (Disability) check that she receives monthly.
I met her at the apartment she’s been staying in about an hour south of Boston. The three bedroom apartment was rented by a friend who suffers from a neurological disorder and is raising three children, one of whom is autistic. In addition to paying her for the room, Francesca was expected to help take care of the kids and the apartment. She also was expected to make herself scarce (that is, find somewhere else to stay) for days at a time when the boyfriend of the woman on the lease became angry or when a caseworker or someone from the Housing Authority might come by and “catch” an extra person living in the apartment.
While this was going on, her son, who had been working steadily for six years, was facing a financial crisis of his own. His job involves driving but his car broke down. Without the car he couldn’t make the money to pay for repairs. Without repairs, he couldn’t work. Francesca gave him any bit of money she had left from her SSI check but that wasn’t enough. Without a means of paying rent, he came and moved into the room with her. She told me that she’s always happy to spend time with her son but “I feel like a failure that I can’t even help my son get back to work.”
Unlike Carly, Pauline and Jessica, Francesca bounced back (again) a few months later. She decided to return to an old boyfriend with whom she had broken up in the past “because he is too controlling”. With her superb social skills, she had managed to maintain some contact with him in the interim and she knew what to say and how to dress and what to promise to convince him to give their relationship another chance. This boyfriend has a good job, a stable (albeit remote) place to live, and lovely grandchildren. As of now, Francesca is enjoying spending the summer with his grandchildren at the beach, making birthday parties for them and being treated by him to nice dinners and gifts.
For the time being, due to her willingness – and ability – to make herself into whatever the man who is supporting her wants her to be, her house of cards is holding steady. But as Francesca and I (and readers of this blog!) know all too well, it will collapse, and that probably will happen sooner rather than later.
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Building a Foundation
As Francesca and Pauline know, there is no real safety net in the United States. Most government welfare programs have strict and inconsistent eligibility requirements, are time limited, and do not cover all relevant expenses (for example, Food Stamps cannot be used for diapers; Medicare doesn’t cover hearing aids). Go Fund Me campaigns, emergency relief after natural disasters, and help from friends and neighbors can stave off disaster for a time, especially for for people who have other substantial resources at their disposal but the reality is that few Americans can withstand even a moderate windstorm.
Carly and Jessica may differ from some of us in terms of the speed in which their houses of cards collapse, but not in terms of the shaky foundation of deficient public support for people who cannot access the necessities of life.
Real structures – not houses of cards – depend up the development of rational, comprehensive, integrated systems of publicly supported health care, housing and education, as well as jobs that pay living wages and make proper accommodations for people with wide ranges of (dis)abilities. This won’t prevent all bad luck from turning into disasters. But it will increase the chances that more people will be able to hang on when the wind blows or the rains pour down.