The Poor House
The photo above is my dream house. It doesn't look like much but to me it is the very epitome of an impossible dream. Read the poem "The Poor House", it was inspired by seeing this house. It brought home the helpless feeling I always try to hide from, smile past.
Poverty is a whirlpool. Once you are sucked inside the chance of getting out is slim. If you have never been there, it's hard to understand. It seems like there are so many programs out there, food stamps, medicaid, WIC but in truth all that does is keep you in a place you can never get free of.
When you apply for food assistance the only bills that are subtracted from your gross income (they use gross, not net) are: rent, water/sewage, electric and child care. When most people have to pay car insurance, medical bills from the years without medical coverage, cell phones (we don't have anyway, too much money), home phone (don't have that either), cable (don't have that), internet (only have that because my husband paid it in advance so I'd have a way to help earn income, through selling anything I have of value).
The more money you make, even the slightest increase, decreases food assistance by significant amounts. That means that every increase can never be used to get ahead, it has to go to getting by. It is an intensely helpless feeling.
My husband tried to sign up for a program to get a trade education. He went to all the meetings to get qualified but in the end was denied because we are "too poor". His income is needed to pay the bills and the classes required him being 100% devoted to class for 6 weeks. Door slammed.
I tried to get help with home repairs. Our roof leaks, holes in floors, no heat, I cook on a hot plate and microwave . . . we need help, major help. We don't qualify because we don't live in an urban area. You have to live in an "urban" area or farm community to get help.
So we're stuck, waiting on an impossible dream.
