Burning Crisis In America--Ignoring Poverty

Smoldering out of sight and out of mind in this attention-deficit country is a disaster far exceeding the media attention it gets--fatalities due to house fires. Over 1,600 men, women and children died in residential fires during 2010. Most deaths receive a mere blurb in the local paper.

Poverty in America bloggers Rich and Elizabeth Lombino called attention to the ongoing post-Katrina humanitarian disaster in New Orleans, tragically underscored by the recent fiery deaths of 8 homeless youth trying to stay warm in an abandoned building. I've hammered on the 9 lives lost in Starkville, MS attributed to "hard times," the 3 women and 6 little kids crowded together in an apartment to avoid life on the shelter-less streets. For all our hammering and yammering, few will pay attention to this poverty-related loss of life.

If you have the stomach to look at the US Fire Marshal's fire fatality report, you'll notice a pattern: lots of fires in manufactured homes. Trailers. As one who lives in a trailer, an Recreational (ha!) Vehicle, I am frighteningly aware of their vulnerability, and I'm not coping with abject poverty and the multitude of issues accompanying life in the much-maligned trailer parks.

Fire is one issue. Legal and illegal evictions are others. Hopewell, VA is the scene of a massive trailer park eviction leaving residents with few options besides homelessness. The substandard condition of these tin can homes is yet another story. Trailer residents struggling with poverty can't afford upkeep, much less home heating oil.

We've long given up on the idea people in this country are entitled to a decent, affordable place to live. We let people struggle to survive in substandard conditions--crappy trailers, abandoned buildings, tents, the great outdoors. We stereotype and disparage "street people" and ignore the house-less reality of human beings --including homeless families with young children--as told by 3 parents in a Christmas day NPR story.

If a 1,600 passenger plane crashed, I'd like to think we'd pay attention for a short time anyhow. Is it the lack of value we put on some people's lives?

When possible unsafe conditions led to deaths of 32 infants since 2000, we recall cribs. That's the right thing to do.  I'd suspect not many wealthy families live in trailers or abandoned buildings. So we (as a nation) don't give a rat's ass about those who die trying to keep warm because they're not wealthy. Congress won't get involved. We have too many other "priorities."

Home heating prices are soaring. Rents skyrocketing. Evictions and foreclosures spiraling. Fire and carbon monoxide fatalities surging. (I'm running out of verbs before I'm running out of reasons that people are losing housing.)

While Congress is poised to slash programs serving those most vulnerable in our country, most of us feel powerless. One way to have a slight, though important, impact on poverty policies is to rattle the cage of the U.S. Conference of Mayors, the body that issues an annual "report" on homelessness. I've decried this document as a bogus waste of time and money. It bamboozles the mayors, media, and mainstream public by distorting homelessness statistics. It's inaccurate, but since media look for a homelessness story around the holidays, this drivel fills the gap. Even the astute Maria Foscarinas of the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty got pulled into seeming to validate the report.

Will you sign my petition to urge mayors to either strengthen their reporting or skip it?

Seems to me that our national strategy of ignoring poverty hasn't worked. Maybe it's time we all sit around the campfire outside the U.S. Capitol and roast marshmallows over campfires fueled by burning bogus reports.

Land of 'Yes Ma'am' and Tragedies

Deep South manners are the same, no matter the state. "Yes ma'am, and ya'll come back" punctuate most sentences. Such is the case as I paid my fee at this little campground outside Starkville, MS, where I await my meeting with Mayor Parker Wiseman to talk about what's happened to protect desperate families that lose housing.

Last December, fire swept through a 2-bedroom apartment in Starkville, taking the lives of 9 people crowded into the dwelling. Six children under the age of 6 and 3 women perished. Cause of the fire? Hard times. 

After blogging about it, I met with Mayor Wiseman earlier this year when I was crossing Mississippi. Why not, I thought, because someone needs to make sure these women and kids didn't die in vain. My organization, HEAR US, collected money to help with burial costs. He graciously agreed to meet me, and by chance the Alderwoman who represents the family's district happened to be at City Hall, so she joined us.

We talked about resources and need. Mayor Wiseman had done his homework and was appalled at the gaping holes in the safety net. I wasn't. He vowed to bring stakeholders together to strategize how to, as best as possible, avoid this tragedy in the future. I vowed I wouldn't forget his promise.

So I'm back. The economy has gone through another shellacking, or drubbing, or whatever you call it when the rich get theirs and nothing is left. Mississippi, according to a recent report issued by the National Center on Family Homelessness, ranks 41/50 on the problem of child homelessness. Their stats are a year-old. Things continue to spiral downward.

Winter hasn't hit with its bone-chilling fury, and when it does, the thousands of people in MS who can't afford heat will do what any of us would do--figure out how to heat our humble abodes by any means possible. And this problem is certainly not limited to Mississippi, as reported in this story about a recent Florida fire that killed five children.

I'm not sure how polite I can be today. I'll try. But when the economic tailspin causes budget cuts, I know where those cuts fall--to those who have no power to fight for their stake. In cities and towns across America families teens, and single adults have no place to call home. On the other side of town, some families have multiple homes. And houses sit vacant, emptied by the foreclosure debacle that has upended life across our land. The folks from NCFH have a plan. It requires political will. Harrumph.

Sorry for being a radical (no, I'm not really sorry), but I think when we have housing surpluses we should make sure people in our communities are housed. That's an approach that needs to be certified by government. So I'll ask.

Seems to me we've tolerated seeing homeless families and poverty far beyond the point of tragedy. I'd suggest one gauge: if your family was on the brink of homelessness, what would you want? Don't accept less. Yes, ma'am. Ya'll come back...we'll see.

Let's Roast (Some) Politicians on a Stick

Sitting in a campground in my awesome Tillie work space, I tend to look out the window quite a bit. That's one of the perks of my "corner" office. So today as I slogged through some boring, but necessary, admin tasks, I found myself checking out the young woman with a little boy across the way.

No camping gear or motor home, just a beater-car, its insides brimming with stuff. They parked at the vacant campsite and made their way up to the shower building, reversing their path soon thereafter with wet hair and a change of clothes. Hmm...I thought....

A few minutes later I noticed her going back and forth to the little faucet (see photo), bending over, as the little guy sat calmly on the trunk, entertained by something. My curiosity got the best of me and I took a break from my computer, wandering out to the trash barrel between our campsites.

"H-e-e-y-y," I uttered in my best Louisiana drawl. She looked up, the little boy smiled. I figured she's walked by Tillie, my home/office on wheels, and couldn't help but noticed the abundant and obvious signage proclaiming my cause. "So I know I'm seeming to be nosy, but I'm wondering if..." and she cut me off.

"We're not homeless," she adamantly professed. "We're just out here because we like the quiet and the trees." I just nodded non-judgmentally and agreed with the quiet and trees thing. But peering into her car, I gathered she was something more than a nature-loving mom. Maybe the dripping undies and outies drying on her car windows provided the clue. Or the chunks of firewood on the car floor, purchased from the guy who drives through hawking his campfire ingredients.

I subtly explained my role in life, and she nodded in agreement that belied her first sentence. I wanted to say "I'm not CPS (child protective services)," but I just said that I'm from Illinois and I work around Lafayette quite often. I told her a bit about our newest documentary, "on the edge," featuring 7 women who were homeless, including mothers from around here.

Maybe it's the time she spends with her little 7-year old cutie, but soon she shared a whole lot of her story. Although displaced by Katrina 5 years ago, that was only secondary to the storm that hit her life. The sperm donor, aka the boy's father, did as so many men do, turn from lovie-dovie to intimidating beast shortly after she gave birth. Their eventual split was evidently abetted by her mother-in-law. Her parents are in the area, and it seems they provide some support.

"Andrea" appeared naive and bright throughout our extended conversation. "Ben" continued contentedly writing on blank pages of a little tablet, then turned normal, raiding the remnants of the Halloween candy she generously offered me. Her story spilled out as he romped obediently, not straying far from mom.

After Ben was born, and the marriage shredded, she bounced around, avoiding what she thinks homelessness is by racking up huge credit card bills staying in motels when she can, otherwise staying with friends (the classic form of homelessness among families). The pittance of child support is barely worth the intrusion she endures from the state's child support Gestapo. Ben, obviously bright, attends school regularly, with Andrea grousing about the school's no-tolerance policies for tardiness. She proudly boasted that he has only 3 of the allowed 5 tardies this semester. Quite impressive given their highly-mobile circumstances.

She rues the day she put the father's name on the birth certificate, not realizing that it means that she's tied to him, for better or worse, by virtue of this bureaucratic web. She applied for Medicare, but quit when they demanded information about the boy's father, her sex life, and other intrusions known well by women in poverty. Ditto for child support expectations. She'd move away, but cannot without creating a huge to-do.

Her goal today was cooking hot dogs and marshmallows by the campfire, but as stress-laden women (and men) often demonstrate, intentions aren't enough. She forgot the hot dogs and marshmallows, and asked if I minded "fire-sitting" while she ran to the nearest store. I capably pointed her to the neighborhood grocery up the street from this wooded haven. She yanked down the laundry as not to drive down the street with her bra and undies hanging on the window, and Ben hopped compliantly into the child seat in the back, the only vacant spot in this ancient escape vehicle.

I offered paper plates and tongs which Ben came over to get. He gazed admirably at my humble but adequate home on wheels. I felt uncomfortably affluent in light of their bleak situation. He's bounced over to say a sweet "thank you" a couple times, and returned the tongs, all nice and clean.

This crazy country, where we provide more for animals--strays and pets--than we do for families. We listen to clueless politicians rant about undeserving children shackled with preexisting medical conditions. We vote for budget hawks who promise everything and threaten the remaining shreds of the safety net. We shake our heads when we see stressed parents struggling to pull life together enough to not appear negligent.

What can you do? Fair question. Sign my petition expressing outrage about the insane proclamation about insurance. Get a copy of on the edge, watch it and share it. Lend a hand at the local shelter (if your area is lucky enough to have one), or send them a donation. Drop off diapers and wipes, or pull-ups at the pantry. Tutor a kid. Or just be aware the next time you're in a campground, and offer tongs and paper plates.

Seems to me that those who have so little can teach us so much. My gratitude for my lot in life expands significantly after these chance encounters. My intolerance for disregard of true family values--the kind that say parents with kids should have all kinds of help as they navigate the bumpy path ahead--also increases. Andrea and Ben provide fuel to my fire, confirming my belief that homeless families are everywhere. Time to roast marshmallows on the front steps of the Capitol.

(Too) Great Expectations?

Although I don't have time to spend getting involved in what is always a vortex of chaos and stress of homeless families, sometimes I do it anyhow. I'm in the midst of not one, but two, um, challenging conundrums right now. Plenty of lessons to be learned....

Situation 1, Melissa A and her family of 5 young kids (10 YO - 7 months) crammed precariously in a motel in DuPage County, the 23rd most affluent county in the country.

Homeless since July after job loss and inevitable bailing before eviction,  this stalwart 24-year-old mom is in the process of redefining "wrecking ball lives." I've hung with her on a few occasions, enough to give me deep admiration for how anyone can manage to juggle incessant wants and needs of her tribe while battling what seems to be the evil forces with little-to-no money.

The latest, it appears renting a car for a credit card-challenged friend 2 months ago as a favor has returned to haunt Melissa. Friday, when checking her precarious bank balance, one fed by meager unemployment checks, she heard a horrible message: "overdrawn by $2000." In shock, she checked into it. Apparently, the car rental company I'll call "hurts" decided to snatch her money to repair what they allege is $2500 damage to the car. According to Melissa, she received NO NOTICE of this pending action. And she's quick to point out that if she inadvertently tries to use her credit/debit card when she lacks funds, the transaction is denied.

I don't know all the facts. And, having signed several car rental agreements laden with lawyerly language printed in tiny type, it's not hard to imagine she signed away her life, tenuous as it is right now. And the hurtful car rental company smelled blood.

To be continued...

Situation 2, my friend Tina and her 5, soon to be 6, boys in Las Cruces, NM. Last we left Tina, she and her boys moved from the minuscule 13' camper into a "real" home, a 3-bedroom single-wide trailer. It had to feel like paradise. This move took an act of God. During it all, she and her little guys endured oppressive heat, bone-chilling cold, and ever-growing claustrophobia as they rode out a seemingly endless bureaucratic trail to end their homelessness.

Tina, about to give birth (take your little comments about her pregnancy and stuff them in your judgmental arse), is looking to the future, 2 months and counting, when her rental agreement and stimulus-fund housing payments are kaput. Now what is she going to do? She flung a text message my way in hopes that I could bring about a miracle.

Part of her unworthiness, according to the local public housing agency, is a $5205 past due balance in another state, where she and her ex lived before she fled. She can't rent from the Las Cruces housing authority unless this balance is paid. She has no way of paying that.

OK, I understand responsibility, but why is it at the expense of a mother and her children, and not her ex? And why are we willing to spend considerably more than $5205 on the damages that will occur to this family (think medical bills, just for starters) in a town that has NO EMERGENCY SHELTER for families? Can anyone besides me see the tragic folly in this?

We are society. It's not "them," the bureaucrats or elected officials. We are responsible for what happens to people in our communities. Involving bureaucrats and elected officials is essential. And we, their employers, must do that. We've allowed rules and laws to overcome common sense and realities, and then wonder why we have such a mess.

Neither mother is an evil person. Nor do they have resources adequate to care for their families. We can condemn their multiple pregnancies all we want, but that does nothing to help. Melissa and kids are at the mercy of rapidly depleting donations that HEAR US has been collecting. Tina and crew are riding the declining wave of federal stimulus funds designed to prevent families from being homeless. These are just 2 of what I can assure you are hundreds of thousands....


HEAR US--yours truly--and Laura Vazquez, media professor at Northern Illinois University, have created a perfect enlightenment tool, "on the edge," a 60-minute documentary featuring 7 women's stories of homelessness. Melissa and Tina would have fit right in. The stories resonate with the realities of countless families nationwide. Urge our leaders to watch "on the edge" by taking 30 seconds to sign this petition. If you have an extra 4 minutes, watch the trailer.

Seems to me we need to inspire and enlighten our President and those responsible for devising our nation's homelessness policies and practices. And if 30 seconds is too much to spend, well, I'll take my judgmental thoughts and....

NIU documentary maker Laura Vazquez shines light on the faces of homelessness in America

NIU documentary maker Laura Vazquez shines light on the faces of homelessness in America

NIU documentary maker Laura Vazquez shines light on the faces of homelessness in America

NIU documentary maker Laura Vazquez shines light on the faces of homelessness in America

Shocking Reality is the Reality for Low-Income Moms

(Oh, my poor neglected invisible homeless kids blog...so sorry. Hope you're catching my Friday posts on Change.org Poverty in America)

The ongoing saga of Melissa and her family continues to enrich me with, um, shocking experiences. Tonight's phone conversation--her kids squawking kid-like in the background, me enveloped with Tillie-peace--was about lots of things, but mostly money. In the 2-1/2 weeks since our paths have crossed, HEAR US has raised about $2000 to keep her afloat, one step from joining the ranks of millions of homeless families. She's more than appreciative, and is trying her darndest to make it work.

First off, afloat is relative. She and her 5 kids are in a modest motel "suite" for $55 a night. It's better than the streets, for sure. And it's better than the rotating emergency shelter program. Imagine, if you can, schlepping 5 little ones (10, 5, 4, 2, and 6 mo.) in/out of shelters--7 p.m. to 7 a.m., in and out of her beater van with astronomical gas, maintenance and insurance costs, and not knowing if they'd even be able to stay, with shelter overcrowding so common.

Anyhow, the shock...came to me when she said how much she had to pay for formula. Her little guy needs to eat. To be blunt, she can't produce breast milk. So formula is the answer. She told me his formula was $300 a month. I thought she did the math wrong. She didn't. Here's ubiquitious WalMart's pricing (http://www.walmart.com/ip/Enfamil-Gentlease-Lipil-Powder-Formula-24-oz-Can-4-pack/14234644?findingMethod=rr#Q%26A+Exchange). Follow the link. Scroll down. More shocks....

"Financing" is offered on purchase of $250+. Couple cases of formula (not even enough to get you through the month) and diapers and wipes to catch the outgoing, er, by-products. That will get you over the $250 mark easily. Bill Me Later "service," aka payday loan substitute, is brought to you by the fine folks of EBay. More about this scheme/scam some other day... and onto the next shocker....

Not knowing anything about baby formula, I got busy looking. Doesn't WIC provide formula? Yup. Melissa had been on it, but missed an appointment with her unplanned move interrupting her mail delivery. Next opportunity is not for another 6 weeks. Looking at some official explanations about WIC (Women, Infants and Children), the government effort to keep babies nourished, I was yet again shocked. In 2000, formula sold for about $3-4 a can. Now it's over $25?? (http://www.ers.usda.gov/AmberWaves/September04/Features/infantformula.htm) Holy cow! What's with that? Another story for another day...back to moms...

So babies need to eat. Poor moms. Yeah, poor moms who don't get WIC. Decide between paying the rent and paying the baby formula hucksters. I'd bet my lunch money I'd be shocked at diaper prices too. Poor food pantries try to supplement the inevitable gap in nutrients for babies if donors come forth. Not every family can get to the pantry. I vaguely remember hearing about retailers locking up formula to prevent theft. This could explain it. So we'd lock up the mom caught stealing formula to feed her baby. Now, that is outrageous...which makes it fit in perfectly with today's totally out of balance realities.

Babies, in their most formative phase of their lives, depend on good nutrition. I'd question a product that is primarily corn syrup solids, but that is yet another story for another day. Formula, too expensive for anyone but wealthy families to afford--unless you're getting WIC, which is subsidized by taxpayers, mostly none the wiser about how these companies set up monopolies and jack-up prices that the goverment pays, ransom I'd say, so babies can have a half-chance to grow up sort of healthy.

Seems to me we're being bamboozled, and poverty-stuck parents are being robbed every time they plunk down their hard-earned money to buy a drink that will nourish their babies. Robbing the poor to give to the rich. Where have we heard that before?