The news was released yesterday that I will appear in an episode of the new Jon Stewart show, “The Problem With Jon Stewart,” sometime in the near future (the release for that particular episode hasn’t been locked down yet).
It was a hard secret to keep, especially at first. How many times does someone get an opportunity like that without being a celebrity or “expert,” right?
I rode cloud nine for a few days when I returned home and then, when I was back in the work groove and life had deflated the cloud, it was easy for me to forget that the whole thing had happened. I mean, it was surreal to begin with, eh.
I was contacted because my Congressional video testimony was found in a Google search, and the enormity of that video still hasn’t fully set in. It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that I could have had such an extraordinary thing happen, let alone a second extraordinary one.
Ironically enough, yesterday was the day the show was announced, and it was the seventh anniversary of the day I performed a spoken word at a church I used to attend. There was a line in that spoken word piece that said, “I’m working 9 to 5 to keep the dream alive and yet this is the face of poverty.”
A friend at the church had brought my kids in the room to watch my performance that day. Afterwards, we were talking about their reaction to it. They were so young at the time that “poverty” meant nothing to them. But my friend told me I wouldn’t always be the face of poverty. I’ve never forgotten that conversation. In fact, when the performance popped up in my memories yesterday, I reached out to her.
Funny how I thought I was the face of poverty seven years ago and hadn’t even connected with the organizing world. The Universe sure put that on my heart for a reason. Who would have ever guessed I literally would become the face of poverty? It’s been a bizarre and unexpected trip.
Dreams are something I have never allowed to grow too big. I had the young dreams of being a singer, which is probably why my independent 20s allowed for me to start singing with a couple of groups locally. I also had the dream of becoming the best at whatever it was that I wanted to do. The truth is, I had a hard time deciding what I wanted to be. I have provided care to someone most of my life, working with the elderly, adults and children with special needs, the homeless population, etc., so it made sense when, at the age of 42, I completed my Bachelor’s Degree in Human Services with an emphasis on child and family welfare.
It’s weird that poverty is what I am most known for because, for years, I ran from it. I worked three jobs for most of my 20s, sometimes selling jewelry and candles that I made to make ends meet. I also had little responsibility then, having a couple of dogs, a car, and a couch were my only real possessions. Poverty could be twisted to look like a struggling wannabe hippie chick back then.
My 30s were poor, as well, but better. I moved into an apartment owned by my mom and eliminating rent from a budget is helpful. The middle of my 30s saw me raising two kids alone. The end of my 30s saw me working for a federally funded organization. I was still scraping by but loved what I did. My 40s began as a disaster.
A sciatic nerve prevented me from doing my job, so I had to quit. I spent nine months unemployed, surviving with my girls on my tax refund and retirement that I had to pull. I was either overqualified without the necessary degree or simply overqualified. My unemployment forced me to go back to school to earn a degree that probably won’t be paid off before I’m dead.
At the age of 42 things started propelling me to where I am now. The trailer clip for the show has me saying, “I have a Bachelor’s Degree and am living in poverty,” but now only half of that is true. For now, I am not living in poverty. In fact, I’ve never known stability in my last 49 years of life until recently, and that came about by being…wait for it…the face of poverty.
I’m awkward and OK with the elevated profile to fight poverty. Hopefully, I’ll inspire you to believe you were born for much greater than poverty, too, even if that’s all you see when you look at your face.
Onward,
Amy Jo
