stuck inbetween

This week has been rather slow at FareStart. We have been working on Guest Chef on the Waterfront and not really much else.

I have gotten a chance though to reflect on some different issues within homelessness and think about my own life. In the book I have been reading, Criminal of Poverty, Tiny outlines the story of her and her mother's journey into homelessness. The thing that has struck me the most about the book is the slide. From three generations of poverty and immigration, their family has no support network and have developed a very Darwinian method of survival. The pull of the poverty and the little by little decay of credit and financial stability are forces that grab at Tiny and her mother. Poverty for some is a state that must be stepped around and for others it is a riptide that cannot be avoided. The importance of financial decisions is that they do not only effect the immediate future, but for year and years to come. Instant gratification seems to be painless enough at the beginning but its after several years that the pain and consequences cripple an individual. I am facing the similar sliding slope of financial instability. With many of my hours being free and my job waining, I find myself cutting back and saying no to fun, but costly adventures. The biggest different I see between my situation and Tiny's is a history of stability and the hope that my parent's story gives me. Hearing tales of hungry nights and miracle checks in the mailbox has shown me the fingers of God delicately orchestrating their lives. Perhaps I am not slipping into poverty per se but slipping into forced simplicity.

The second point that has been powerful is my experience at the Farmers Market on Saturday. Its right across the street from my apartment this summer and I have had the chance to go around and shop a little. I was making dinner for Scum, which is quite a production now with upwards of 50 people coming in for dinner, and Raylene had given me food coupons from the food bank to get some veggies for a salad. It was the first time I had even used 'food stamp'esque reimbursements and the feeling was very strange. All throughout my childhood we were very able to receive food stamps but my parents refused to. I never really understood that until I had to go and do it myself. Having the inability to pay for your own food is slightly humiliating. Knowing that the little green piece of paper I received from the food bank implied so many half truths into my life was amazing. I paid and constantly wondered what the farmers thought of me. It was not just an exchange of paper for food, like cash that has a powerfully equalizing quality to it, but its was an exchange of social place, cementing the notion that I didn't have the means to provide for myself. I thought a lot about my reaction to the experience. Should I have cared less about what people thought of me? Is my perspective completely skewed on the event because it is something I do so rarely? What would it be like to have to use an EBT card for most of my groceries and experience this feeling multiple time a week? Is this a problem with the self esteem of the individual or is it a problem with the expectations and assumptions of the system and society?