I saw a posting on social media today, outlining how welfare
and food stamps are not entitlements but rather, “handouts”. The comments
following had a lot of hatred toward the poor. How we are all shysters, daily committing
fraud against the hard working people. We are either illegal aliens, or lazy
crack heads who are hell bent on getting everything for free, and loudly
proclaiming our inalienable rights to a free ride. It was the icing on the cake for another
otherwise miserable day.
Let’s just back up a second here. I want to give another perspective. Two years and three months ago today, I got a call from my employer letting me know I needed to clear out my desk and turn in my laptop, as my job had just been off shored. The economy was in the tank, and many people had already been on unemployment for over a year. This made many of us less marketable, because employers had the advantage of a much larger hiring pool, and therefore wanted the best of the very best, no room for just really competent employees who wanted a mid career wage.
We suffered a bit, adjusted our lifestyle a bit more, and got
rid of any amenities we had left. Yes,
what we had left. You see; the lower middle class salary I once had prior to
layoff, actually diminished by 35% over the course of 5 years due to cutbacks,
and furloughs. Prior to getting let go from my assignment, our income was
considered poverty level for a family of four. We were eligible for assistance,
but tried to make it on our own. Even
after the layoff, we managed to keep from sinking by stretching tax returns,
eating as much as we could from our garden, and using up our savings.
Finally, we broke. It came down to either not feeding the
kids, or swallowing our pride. We had to apply for food stamps. It was a great
relief to know that our children would be able to not go hungry. I am very
grateful for this assistance. However, there is a hidden cost to all of this.
One they do not talk about in the seminars for the unemployed. It hits you in
the face the first time you pull out that food stamp card. SHAME. Raw, in your face, unabashed shame. You
cannot hide it from the other shoppers, as it pops up on the cashier screen for
everyone to see. Even the clerks change their behavior towards you when they
see how you are paying for your groceries. They go from happy chatter, to stiff
upper lip professional courtesy with you. You learn very quickly to avert your
eyes so you cannot see the disgust they are barely masking. The people in line
behind you look over your cart silently, and you feel that if there is anything
but macaroni and cheap hamburger in your cart, you are committing a crime of
some sort. I have even heard people complain that people on food stamps are not
entitled to seafood, beef, or fresh vegetables. “Government cheese, peanut
butter and skim milk should be all you get, you pathetic waste of a human!”
It makes me wonder, is society really this callous? Do they
really think that the majority of people who are on assistance are degenerate
burdens on society? I wonder if they can understand that so many of us struggle
minute to minute, day to day, week to week, with this poverty? Each day, I feel the darkness taking a little
bit more of my soul. The fear and shame of it all is crushing. My young
children do not understand why they cannot have the same toys as other
children. My seven year old has developed anxiety beyond what child should have
to endure. Last week he mentioned that he wishes he had a good job so he could
take us all out to get a burger or see a movie.
It tears me up inside.
Each day, I wonder if this is the day we get a letter of foreclosure,
or if the electricity will get shut off this month? Will we have running water
in the morning? Will the phones get shut off just before I get a call for an
interview? I lay awake all night, trying to convince myself that I need to keep
pushing forward, because the kids need me, yet still wonder if maybe they would
get better opportunities in life if I was not holding them back.
It is peculiar to me, I hear these politicians, the same
ones I voted for, issuing statements that America needs to stop coddling the
lower class. Benefits need to be cut. Work, damn it or you deserve to starve. Contribute
to society or get out. Last week, a commentator in the UK went as far as to advocate
that older people, who are not self sustaining should be euthanized. I paid
taxes for 35 years. I expect and hope to find work and pay taxes for at least another
20 years. But still, I am labeled as a drain on society, a burden that should
be removed.
I am sorry if this is over the top with maudlin,
depressive overtones. I do not like feeling this way. A man wants to be able to
provide for his family. He desires to make them proud, and have a comfortable, fulfilling
life.
It is hard not to give up and accept that I have nothing left of value to
offer them, and have become a total failure. The heck of it is, I am sure that I am not alone in my thinking, How many other thousands are out there, men and women alike, who deal with this struggle? We want jobs, and not handouts. We do not want to be "a drain on society".
No comments:
Post a Comment