Nearly five years ago, I returned home from running my kids to school. Across the street from our house sat a man in a car, clipboard in his hand.
He didn’t look like he belonged in the neighborhood, and I knew that he didn’t live on our street. I approached him and asked if I could help him. I was told no, he was fine. Well, what he didn’t know was that I wasn’t a fan of a lot of people in fancy cars with clipboards sitting in front of my house, so I informed him that I would help him. He exited his car, introduced himself, and told me that he was there to buy my house for $5,000.
You read that right: he was offering $5,000 for a house that wasn’t for sale and had three families in it.
The house was given to me and my brother and by my mother. It was paid for, and it was also old and in need of some repairs. The house was in a low-income/high-need location, which my family affectionately referred to as “the ‘hood” and “the ghetto.” But it was our only residence. We had so many days to accept their offer. Upon advice from a legal professional, we didn’t respond.
And Then …
Skip ahead three years to Easter Monday. My phone rang and it was him. He said that his company hadn’t really been serious the first time and was prepared to make a new offer. I explained to him that I was the only parent of two kids and that my mother was elderly. The one plus was that I had started working as a community organizer two years earlier and knew what it took to speak to power. I knew that I didn’t have to sell, but the truth is that the neighborhood had changed so drastically with his housing development in our backyard that I wanted out. I also knew that I didn’t have the savings or credit score for that to be possible, so I listened to what he said to me.
For example, he told me once that his Sundays were reserved for church, so I began talking about David vs. Goliath. I reminded him of what the Bible said about helping the poor. I also repeatedly made it clear that I was the only parent of two who couldn’t take anymore financial stress or setbacks. I demanded that we be made whole.
And when the day came for me to make an offer, I was scared to death. I mean, I have spoken on some big stages before, but I had never had to fight for my family like this. I was terrified. My voice was shaking, and my eyes were full of tears when I dropped my offer in his lap. And when he told me that he didn’t think his boss would go for it, I reminded him that the one thing I didn’t have to worry about now was a roof over my family’s head and wouldn’t take a penny less. I had asked for more than two legal professionals had said I’d ever get.
And when I hung up the phone, I thought I was going to vomit from my nerves.
A Short Wait
It took less than 12 hours for him to accept my offer after roughly six weeks of phone conversations. I did it; I had won. A few days ago, five years after this mess started and a year after I made my offer, I paid for a house in cash and so did my brother. That was all I had wanted, a solid roof over our heads. They’re not fancy houses, but they’re ours. We left the ghetto. I won’t have to chase drug deals from in front of my house anymore. We’re out. We get a fresh start.
So know this: the majority of our society has no concern for poor people when we stand in their way. They don’t know what it’s like to live in a neighborhood where the buildings are run down, where the grocery stores are gone but the bars and gambling joints are accessible in any direction within two blocks. They don’t know what it’s like to not have the money to make a fresh start or to smother under the old one.
And they’re always going to think that our worth is about $5,000 when the cheapest rent is $1,200 a month … ya feelin’ me? Don’t let them do that to you. Whether it’s for livable wages or better pay, don’t let them convince you that you’re not worth more because you are. And don’t stop believing in miracles because they happen; we just have to stop quitting before they get here.
Stand in the power of your lived experience. Stand in your truth. And don’t ever let them tell you that you’re not worth enough to be whole. Claim your worth and make them worry about buying new windows when the old ones get rattled.
Onward,
Amy Jo
