For a long time now, I have contemplated the publishing of the following post. For those who know me well, you know two things:
1) I am an open book, read ‘em and weep.
2) I am stubbornly independent to the point of nausea and heartbreak.
What does this mean, exactly? For those who have stumbled upon this site, what am I saying about my own character? What does this say about the nature of this post? What do I hope to accomplish?
I want to tell you the story of my life, or more specifically the troubles that my fiance and I have endured the past couple of months. I believe it has become a similar story across the nation as other families, whether they be my age (early 20s) or older, are struggle to make ends meet. I feel like everywhere I look, I see someone in desperate need of some kind: a parent/spouse lost their job, an unforeseen circumstance brings destruction and chaos to a family, a cut in assistance that previously allowed a family to eek out an existence. It’s on facebook, selling sites, social media, classrooms…. it’s in society and existence itself. And I’m not sure whether to blame poor budgetary planning/spending, a rise in costs of living, social problems and stratification, lowering of education standards… I’m sure the national epidemic of poverty (as I see it) can be explained in a combination of these ways. I don’t know, I’m not sure, I won’t claim to know everyone’s story, for this is only of my own.
Last August, I began the last leg in my journey for an Associate’s degree of Arts from Pellissippi State Community College. The summer before I had attempted two online classes, both of which tanked my GPA and cost me a scholarship. My fiance and I were in a rocky situation at the time; our previous apartment complex had been entering our apartment without our consent/knowledge to the point of damaging our property. When we approached the property manager about the incident, he physically forced Bryan out of the office, screaming and cursing. To make a long story short, we called the cops and vacated the premises as soon as possible. We’ve just settled into our new place, unpacking and reorganizing far from done but liveable. With both of us working only part time jobs (that’s all we have still been able to find with an availability as ours has been with both my four year old and school), we ran a tight ship that would only get tighter as the semester went on.
As stated earlier, we both maintained only part time jobs, and we were in need of government assistance for some time. Every bit of our roughly $400 in food stamps went to purchasing nutritious foods that fit into our lives--meats and proteins, fresh fruits and vegetables that my son adored, and we even managed to convince a four year old to eat things like yogurt and apples. We didn’t have to worry about “making it stretch” or saving leftovers to use in the next night’s meal. We had enough to eat well (read: not indulge and engross ourselves in mounds of food). It was routine for me (as the shopper of the family) to stockpile our staple items when they went on sale, and make good rational decisions about the money, but still. The assistance was well needed and well spent. Through this assistance my son also got to go to a wonderful daycare with a daily curriculum, learning how to interact with others and getting him prepared to enter the vigorous experience that is kindergarten in Fall 2014. We received a discount tuition rate to this splendid institution and my son was able to learn and grow while I worked or went to school myself. Things were looking well, and (remember that need for independence?) I purchased our own phone lines, and left the family plan with my parents. An extra $150 (or so they told us….) a month wasn’t too bad when my fiance and I were both working around 35 hours a week.
Around mid September, our food stamps and family assistance was terminated. Even though we updated our addressed with DHS (as per the rules and guidelines of receiving assistance), our appointment letter for a recertification to be sent to the wrong address and wasn’t received until after the case had been “closed and discontinued.” For the following month, we utilized every resource we had. Instead of the child support money we received being spent on my son, who was going through a growth spurt, or deposited into his own savings account, the money went to food or to pay his raised tuition ($40/week, and that was even with a little bit of “transition assistance”). Gift cards that had been accumulated through birthdays and what not were now used on food, or sold through facebook. Free rewards programs that I had been enrolled in (shopkick, Swagbucks, etc) I quickly “cashed out” of and got maybe $20 to a PayPal account. Somehow, we made it through the month and to each paycheck. Around this time, excess financial aid and a small student loan, applied for and approved for in the midst of all of this, came through and we were able to pay the bills and stay somewhat afloat. Through a roller coaster ride and bouncing back and forth between DHS case workers and appointment times, after a month of struggle and hoping for the best, I finally got an appointment with a caseworker. It was then that they told me we had lost the assistance permanently. The fluke of extra hours at work had been enough to put us roughly $25 over the threshold and we lost the $560 or so of assistance, unless “circumstances changes”, ie I lie and say my fiance doesn’t live with me, or one of us loses our job, neither of which were going to happen. Another small loan was taken out, and we started “making things stretch”. The stockpiles I had carefully built earlier were now being used.
In early October, my beloved car began to smoke. A trip to the mechanics and $650 later, a rack and pinion had been replaced and the small issue of mini-fires in my engine had been resolved. This extra cost dug deep into any savings we had, and we began switching to meatless meals when my son stayed with his biological father every other week. Beans, bought and stored back when we had WIC, were now making their way into soups and meals to satisfy protein needs, and my fiance and I began brown bagging it to work with fewer amounts. Rather than taking the leftovers from a previous meal, or a cup of Ramen, a sandwich and small bag of chips inhabited our lunch bags. It wasn't alot, but at least we had food, right? Bills started pouring in; our phone plans skyrocketed, colder weather meant higher utilies, and rent was coming due. The credit card I had for "emergency use only" now was being used for bills. I felt like I finally knew what it meant to "steal from Paul to pay Peter".
On November 15, I wrecked my car. Wet conditions and weakening brakes contributed to me rear-ending another car. Physically, both myself and the other driver were okay; his car had minimal damage, while mine was totalled entirely. The next day, a trip to the ER showed I had a "sprained neck" that caused pain throughout my entire body. Fun right? I had also just started working in the deli department at work, and they were not thrilled when I had to call out Day One for this pain. Down to one car, the tardiness unfortunately didn't end there. Every time I left for work, whether it was in the rental (that luckily insurance provided for all of a week) or with Bryan taking me from our home in Northwest Knoxville to Farragut, something delayed me. There was massive traffic, a wreck, five different emergency vehicles that had to get through during a standstill that backed for three miles. Once, it took me twenty minutes to go two miles. I would leave early, and there would be an even worse backup than before. Try a different route; something in the way. This would remain a constant to this day; I've coined it the bad luck of the deli. I have to leave a full hour and half to even hope to get to work in time. I digress.
Fast forward to Christmas. We've managed to find a decent car for less than $100 a month car payments. A busted tire with three other balding, and a damaged O2 sensor left us with an $800 bill on a fancy Firestone credit card. We hobbled our way through Christmas, putting in layaway and building up our present pile slowly. After the morning festivities we set off for Bryan's hometown of Blairsville, GA. To cut a very long story (that I'm not sure how much I can actually share) short, Bryan's license had been suspended without his knowing due to a previous speeding tickets. The tickets were paid off, and for two months Bryan checked to make sure his license wasn't suspended. The last call they told him it wouldn't be---only for it to be suspended three days later. He was pulled over for "speeding" (which he wasn't but... we won't get into that) and jailed for driving with a suspended license. We're facing upwards of $1500 owed to the state of Georgia by March 5, and the ordeal of Bryan not having any form of identification. Meanwhile, our car insurance has gone up, and, I suppose as the universe's way of compensating for that, our credit card limit has gone up as well. This means our bills are "paid" except for a nearly maxxed out credit card.
This past month alone, both of our hours have been cut at work, and money continues to get tighter. I was able to graduate from Pellissippi and I'm currently enrolled at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville with two classes. A loan is due to come through any day now for school, and hopefully that can help us from one step to the next. So, why do I tell you all of this?
Many close to my situation have asked me about financial support and help. Can I send you money; is there anything I can do to help; what do you need? While these questions come from well meaning and loving individuals, whether they be friends or family, thus far in my life I have denied you. I have said something to the effects of “no thank you, we’ll figure something out,” or “we’ll manage, you don’t have to do that.” Let me please please please make it clear now and forevermore, that I appreciate the offers from the bottom of my soul, and I understand your need and want to help me. However, my pride, my hubris if you will, stands in the way. I do not want it to seem that I am asking for a handout, that I am lazy, or that I just don’t want to provide for myself. At the same time, the mounting troubles and the neverending flow of debt and negative income into my home have led me to this decision, to this blog post.
January 17th 2014, the name of this post, is the day I decided to go public. Moreso than anything, I wish to let everyone know of the actuality of a struggling family. I heard a kid in one of my classes this past week say that a person "should know better than raise a family on minimum wage" and that it's of the person's own "laziness and refusal to get off their ass" that leads people's financial trouble; this same outlook on the poverty problem is rampant on facebook as well. While I know I could definitely have it worse than I do, and I full appreciate the things that I have, I do see myself as the "family that fell through the cracks" and I do wish to share my story. Before this blog has been used to track my ramblings, recipes, craft projects, and the such. This journal of sorts joins those categories as I invite you to follow along in all that we do.
Thank you for reading.
If you wish to donate or help us out financially, a GoFundMe account has been set up here. Thank you once more for all the love, encouragement, and support.
