One of the hardest parts of my job is working against stereotypes.The words “poor” and “poverty” often evoke images of lazy people who don’t do enough to change their situation. It’s hard for folks who have never struggled with money to imagine a life without it. I have found that it’s damn near impossible for folks to get it.
One of the hardest stereotypes to battle is the one that insinuates that people are poor because of something they do (or don’t do), and this leads to the most frustrating part of my job: watching non-poor folks throw “solutions” at poor folks like candy in a parade.
“Stop eating at McDonald’s.”
“Count change.”
“Get a better job.”
“Trade in your smartphone for a flip phone.”
My favorite (don’t drown in my sarcasm) comments are ones like, “Well, if I didn’t have any money I would….”
See, the thing is, you don’t know what you’d do without money because you can’t comprehend what that means. If you’ve never had to count change to buy a loaf of bread for your family because change is all you have, then there’s no way you can imagine what that life is like.
Garbage Unless It’s Not
My mind goes back to a conversation I had with someone last year about the people dropped off in our city by the Greyhound. I’m not saying that some of the concerns were not valid (we each have our own perspective and self-interest, which is perfectly normal and humanely understandable), but the one that kept jumping out at me was about the passengers being seen with their clothes in garbage bags. Those garbage bags being carried by bus passengers really upset people.
Citizens didn’t like looking at them. I mean, garbage bags hold garbage … until they don’t. What do I mean about that? Well …
I didn’t think twice about the garbage bags because I don’t own a suitcase. Yep, that’s right. I don’t own a suitcase, so my mind paid no attention to the garbage bags because my brain, in all of its lived experience, automatically realized that they were probably being used as suitcases. And no, before you even ask, I’ve never carried my belongings in a garbage … wait. I lied.
There was that one trip to Canada where the tent leaked and all my stuff was in garbage bags, thrown in the back of the truck. Those bags caused such a fuss that we were pulled into customs and interrogated for almost six hours … but I digress.
Different Sets of Rules
I don’t own a suitcase because I can’t afford to travel on vacations that require such things, and don’t get it twisted – my family travels quite a bit on weekend trips and overnighters. But we don’t go where duffle bags won’t suffice. We also don’t go where we can’t drive because, again, I can’t afford it. And let’s be real here: if you’re traveling by Greyhound then it’s probably because it’s the only way you can afford to travel.
I have spent days on Greyhounds back in the day and was never offered first class seating or free snacks. Are you feeling me?
One of the hardest parts of gaining privilege is the new sets of rules and regulations that come with it. I used to teach in an early childhood classroom that served the “neediest of the needy.” Every once in a while, opportunities would pop up for parents to travel for meetings, and every single time those parents were given explicit instructions as to how to behave: Don’t carry your clothes in a plastic bag.
And … keep receipts for every single thing because you have to account for every last penny or you will be held responsible for paying us back and won’t be asked to go again.
I, as a staff person, was stopped in the hallway once on my way to a training and reminded that I was using a company vehicle and needed to realize that I was not permitted to drink and drive (I can’t make this stuff up) even though admin staff used to laugh about having to separate their alcohol receipts from their work receipts.
Bias
Bias is sitting at a parent night in a Title I school at the beginning of the school year and being told that your kids’ Chromebooks can’t be pawned because they were tracked while knowing damn good-and-well that parents in other districts weren’t being told the same thing.
Bias is suggesting to a person on social media that the only reason he/she would struggle with paying an $4/month user fee was because they needed to skip a meal at McDonald’s; or that change could be collected to pay that fee; or that the poor person obviously didn’t care about the emergency responders who would benefit from couch change.
Bias is assuming that there’s change in the couch cushions in the first place.
I’ve told a couple of people about a trip I’m taking next month to speak to the U.S. Congress about this Administration’s desire to change the poverty guidelines. Here’s the thing: I have to buy new clothes for that event because those folks organizing the day and those members of Congress attending won’t like (hell, I don’t even know if they’ll allow) my jeans and cotton shirts. And, to be honest, I’m struggling with the whole thing. I don’t want to have to dress a certain way to speak to people who are paid to represent me.
Conversations
Buying expensive clothes and putting myself into financial stress to speak to individuals about poverty is the best kind of irony. But it happens all the time. Poor folks and the low-earning working class folks are always the ones made to change something about their presentation in order to be seen and valued, and that cannot continue to be the norm. Putting your clothes into garbage bags so you can get where you need to be shouldn’t be so freaking important to folks who own suitcases.
Let’s have community conversations about these types of bias. I would love to facilitate this, so contact me if it’s something you would like to do. Let us roll out a series of workshops (facilitation and workshop design are aspects of my experience that I don’t usually talk about) designed to challenge our worldviews.
Let’s get 10 people in a room and explore this on a personal level. Let’s unpack our bias, folks, together, so we can move forward toward a greater understanding and good.
Onward,
Amy Jo
