I have just returned from a whirlwind trip to California where I delivered a keynote speech at a large conference for numerous nonprofit agencies. I didn’t tell a lot of people because 1) I’m still very awkward about this stuff (2) I did share it with someone and was pretty much told that I shouldn’t do it and (3) I’m still very awkward in this space and when someone makes a comment like mentioned above, it’s easier for me to believe them than it is to allow myself an extraordinary opportunity.
It was a great trip. My best friend for life was able to go with me. We stayed in a swanky hotel and ate beautiful foods in “America’s farm to fork capital.” I met some great people and had a wonderful time. But let me tell you, there were constant reminders of how rough it is for low-income folks to simply move around.
To begin, I have a temporary driver’s license because mine expired and the replacement hasn’t arrived yet in the mail. This means that I have a piece of paper that looks like an enlarged state license. Security wouldn’t accept it. I had to provide proof of my identity, and that varied from TSA agent to TSA agent. In Pittsburgh, it was two credit cards or bank cards. Funny thing is that I started using real credit cards last year because I know how hard it is to navigate cities without one.
Because of an error by American Airlines, we missed our connecting flight on the way there, leaving us with eight hours between flights. Thankfully, I had the means to call an Uber and leave the airport to get something to eat because I couldn’t have survived in the airport for that long. Who can afford the food there?!? Wow. The cost was ridiculous. I saw bottles of water priced at $7.75 a piece on my trip. That should be illegal.
Leaving the airport meant that we had to make our way through security. I was stopped again because of my temporary i.d. and moved to the side where I sat for over an hour. The agent who stopped me would check in with me from time to time and ask for another i.d. each time. “I need something with your picture on it. Let me see your Costco card.” I replied, “I don’t have one. I don’t even think we have a Costco in West Virginia.” She wouldn’t accept the cards that had allowed me to leave Pittsburgh. She wouldn’t accept any proof off my phone. “Show me your health insurance card.” I said, “I can’t. I don’t have one.”
“You don’t have your health insurance card,” she asked in disbelief. “No,” I said, “because I don’t have health insurance.” She didn’t know what to do then. I handed over a credit card, a bank account card, and my voter’s registration card, but it still wasn’t enough. “I need something else from the government,” she said, walking away.
As luck would have it, I happened to have my expired WV P-EBT card issued because of COVID. You can’t get any more government than a food stamp card. This time it was her supervisor. He came over and asked why I was waiting. And when I ran down the whole story, he took note of my EBT card and let me go. It was if I couldn’t possibly be a threat to air security if I was poor enough to carry around a SNAP card.
Ran into a problem at the hotel because I had a credit card for incidentals but it didn’t have a chip in it, which began an awkward conversation about those rules. On the way home it was even worse but we anticipated it and went early. Early enough to be hungry. Two drinks and two breakfast croissants cost $58.61. That’s not a typo.
I required a wheelchair because my sciatica won’t allow me to walk too far these days, and my COVID recovery is still not over. That’s how I found out that the people who push people around that airport get paid $12/hour. That’s it. They can’t even afford to eat there. And trust me when I say they have a hard job. One man told me he had walked 12 miles at that point in his shift pushing wheelchairs.
Traveling has always been a stressful time for me because of how hard it is to maneuver when you don’t have resources. But air travel is designed for people with privileges. From the punitive way authority talked to people and the cost of things…From paying to check your luggage to not being able to afford a bottle of water….I’m glad my feet are back on the ground.
Onward,
Amy Jo
