Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Two women

summer view from springhill road


Everyday, I go to work to work with people who can't, aren't, don't know how, and sometimes really don't want to...........work that is. Most can't.....for one reason or another, they can't find work, or simply can't because of their life circumstances. Consequently, they have to live well below the poverty line in a world where money is minimal, opportunities are abysmal, and hope is sometimes mixed with despair. They live on social assistance. I honestly don't know how they manage to keep hope alive let alone live and pay their bills. And yet they do. Their strength in the face of daily adversity touches me deeply. They are my teachers when it comes to keeping hope alive.

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Today, I met with a woman who has 505 dollars to live on for the month. She is considered "low employable" so receives the HIGHER amount of social assistance. Yes, there are others who live on LESS than that in this wealthy country. Her rent is 300 dollars and that doesn't include anything except electricity, which luckily covers her heat expenses. She lives in a rooming house which consists of one room of her own, and shared kitchen and bathroom facilities. She has no access to the thermostat. The heat is set for her room somewhere else. She tells me that in the summer, it's like an oven because there is no cross ventilation. In the winter, it's like freezer because the building has very little insulation, so the landlord keeps the thermostat on low because the heat escapes through the cracks and misshapen doors and windows and it costs too much to heat the place.


The rest of her money goes to everything else........food, personal necessity items like shampoo and soap, phone, busfare, over the counter medications which she is required to take due to her health issues, and anything else that arises. Cable is a luxury even though she is basically house bound..............or room bound due to her multiple health issues. She has an old radio, and little TV that receives one channel, a kettle and a hot plate. The room is big enough to fit a bed, a dresser and a little table.



She can't work. Her health is too precarious, but not enough to be certified disabled which would mean she would receive a few more dollars a month, but more importantly would be considered a "priority." This doesn't mean a whole heck of a lot because budgets for anything except the REAL emergencies have been cut to nothing. However, she would become a priority for subsidized housing..........where her rent would be less than half of what she is paying now. Then, maybe she could afford cable. For now and for the unforseeable future, her days will feel like she's just putting in time.





Empty time, in chronic pain. Alone.
I wonder when she last heard the words, "I love you?"
I wonder how long her nights feel.
I wonder if she has the ability to look in the mirror on top of her paint chipped dresser and see her own beauty?
I wonder where she continues to find hope despite her circumstances?
I wonder if I could find hope if I found myself in similar circumstances?

This woman exuded hope sitting in my office talking with me, so much so that we laughed out loud together. At one point, we were able to brush aside our perceived roles to chat like two women meeting for coffee swapping funny life stories, not "client and counsellor" getting the paperwork done.

She has no money, never has. She has lived a financially poor life, one fraught with bone aching hunger, violent angry relationships........one with more falls and scrapes and concussions imaginable. What she does have is strength in her spirit, something that has pulled others into her life. She has friends.......other women who live in the same rooming house who look after her when she is in too much pain to get out of bed. She is needed and they are needed and that's the ingredient for hope. Life is meaningful if we know we are needed. No doubt money would HELP make life a whole lot easier. Whoever says otherwise is lying. But, money is can never buy reality of being needed.


________________________


Last week, I met with a young single mom who is getting gouged by her own family who are making her pay $700.00 a month rent for a two bedroom basement apartment for her daughter, her infant son and herself. She receives a little more than her rent. Her story of how she ended up in the basement of a family member's home touched me deeply. She left a abuse behind, and wonders if her daughter will ever trust again. She doesn't know how deep the scars are inside her spirit and hopes that her safer home has a door which opens to healing for her little one.




Passive healing as opposed to healthy intervention? Such a big wish to throw out into the randomness of incomplete prayer. Potentially extensive wounds relying on the air to scab it over? How does the air reach a cut on a 10 year old's broken soul? She needs more than that. Air can't validate like a listening human being. Air can't rock a little one who needs to crawl up onto the lap of trust, to be held in warming recognition. Air can't speak a song of love. Not on it's own.


However.........her momma has the same wounds and many more which have accumulated over her life of cuts and bruises, of loud nastiness which has rung in her ears since she was a little one. Her own childhood needs were never met.

Now? She is struggling to overcome a prescription addiction through the methadone program and has in fact been on methadone three times longer than she was taking her addictive pain medication which was prescribed to her by a doctor who is known for handing out Dilaudid like candy. And, there is no end in sight. In dire need of consistent counselling and guidance with a competent counsellor she can learn to trust, she has found herself on a waiting list in limbo for months. She can't work. She can't cope. She can't pay her bills. And she has yet to meet with a legal aid lawyer to help her deal with pending custody issues. She's over her head and she's drowning.




I wish I could honestly state that these stories are unique. They aren't. Poverty cuts to the core, past financial need, beyond the superficial one dimensional view we often have of what it means to be without money.



Once I knew some of her story, I filled in the gaps from my own knowledge gathered working in the frontlines. My conversation with this young Mom then focused on validating her own childhood needs which were never met. Surprised that I went there instead of focusing on the here and now...........she lifted her head, and let the tears which were hidden just below the surface of her skin, flow freely. I could hear her intake as she quickly gathered her thoughts.......her complicated convoluted memories which were flooding her.

Spilling out the grief, the anger, the pain
And I wondered if this would help her find some strength to address her daughter's needs.
I wondered if under the flood of life, seeds of hope were waiting to open up on top of the water like a summer waterlily.
Pouring it out........brought her to a bit of calm, like she had grabbed onto a lifesaver.....a branch travelling downstream. A tentative smile shone through the tears. Strength and resolution was starting to form again.

Being needed, feeling needed, needing others........a circle which nutures itself no matter what the circumstances are because it is the key ingredient for sharing and recognizing our brokenness as the source of our strength. It makes me wonder if brokenness is where our hope stirs waiting to be gathered.

10 comments:

The Harbour of Ourselves said...

'I wonder when she last heard the words, "I love you?"

I wonder how long her nights feel.

I wonder if she has the ability to look in the mirror on top of her paint chipped dresser and see her own beauty'

beautiful writing dana, fucking beautiful

I have a quote from the author Daniel Quinn in my note book, 'Don't try to drive the homeless into places we find suitable. Help them survive in places they find suitable.'

I guess we all know people who need that kind of help....lovely post and beautiful photograph

theMuddledMarketPlace said...

so right....

Dustin said...

Dana,

Thank you for sharing these stories.

Neo said...

Awareness - That's the killer of social workers. It takes a special breed of person to understand the places people like that go. Seeing someone that is just on the edge like these poor women make you wonder how so many have, while so many more have not.

They aren't statistics their humans. I only hope that one day in heaven they get their fare share of what was not there to hold in this life.

Great post.

*hugs*

- Neo

Karen said...

It makes us realise how very little we have to complain about. Such poverty and pain is difficult to imagine when we have so much.

Beautifully written as always Dana and that photograph is stunning.

Jenny said...

thank you for this.

awareness said...

paul....you made my day. am interpreting the f.b.repsonse as a notch higher than a bloody hell? I love it when I can massage a response like that out of you. thank you my friend.
I don't think I've read anything by Daniel Quinn. I like the quote, but would add one more line to capture the importance of providing other options and pictures of what could be considered suitable....not in a manipulative way.
I most definately believe we need to begin by meeting someone where they are, where they find suitable. But, I have found time and again that many people don't know their options. They don't know what is out there, so will remain in a place that just does not work.
It is a gentle massage (ooo theres that word again) to stimulate thinking, to awaken the possibilities. I believe that is the role of a mentor or a counsellor.
Fatigue and stress from a hard fought life is deep. When someone feels that part of the burden is lifted even a bit....the light through the cracks begins to filter in. when that happens, then it is also suitable to offer a few seeds of change.
then again.........I may be completely full of it.

mmp...thank you. glad you could relate to these stories.

dustin.....you know, I wrote most of this post on the weekend and didn't know what I was going to do with it. Because of the type of work I do and the fact that I meet with women daily who are living this struggle, I forget that others may not know how deep the struggles can be. It's not that I am desensitized to what I hear or observe. Rather, my perspective is skewed by the immersion my job entails.
I was speaking with a friend last night about this.......that perhaps what we do for a living, or where we are in our lives may have a different reason than we know. It made me wonder.....why am I doing what I'm doing? Perhaps one of the reasons is so that I can open a small window onto another world....one that is a part of ours, but one that is neglected. Perhaps all the years on the frontlines was so that I could learn from these teachers of life and then share a small part of their world through my writing.

Neo......thank you. Sometimes it takes a liftime to find out what our lifework is. We are all special breeds......yes, there are some who are definately cut out to be social workers (btw, I'm not one of those breeds, though I do similar work....) I see many in my field who thrive and are alive in this work, and others who need to reevaluate their steps. There are definately areas in human being social services I would be uncomfortable with, and some I'm keen to take on because I am comfortable. It's the same for everyone, don't you think?

wtf am I trying to say....?? Special breeds are everywhere.

And.......let's hope these wonderful human beings are first in line going thru those darn gates of Heaven.

Gypsy....because we have felt pain and sorrow, maybe for very different reasons, we can relate, AND we can share our stories too with others. I will often share a story.........funny, absurd, sad, frustrating.....depending on the situation as a way to make the connection deeper.
the photo? One of my favourites from the summer. It was taken early July I think when things we so lush. The view is just up the hill from my home. I was out on a walk with my dog when I took it. She loved the view too, but is a big chicken when it comes to passing by the cows who call that pasture home.

Anon..........my pleasure.

Marja said...

Dana bless you, you are doing very important work by helping a mum you can change the future. I've done a basic counselling course and found it hard not to give advice. I had to reflect people's
words to make them come to their own conclusions but like you said they sometimes just don't know. I work with out of home placed children and I am amazed in what circumstances they have lived and their family still lives. These children are stonger than I ever will be and some loving care works miracles.

Matthew said...

I'm glad you are in their lives. Thank you for the front-line account that I can only imagine. I must admit to feeling helpless when confronted with stories such as these. Your words help me not look away from what is always present.

awareness said...

Marja. Thank you. The frontlines is where many changes take place, for all involved. My present and future has been altered greatly because of the work I have found myself involved in. I had no idea I would work with adults, let alone under these circumstances. I studied psychometry....my plans years ago at university was to work with children in the school setting.........in assessment and counselling. I also had big dreams to own and run a children's camp. My initial work changed my future, and I believe now that it was meant to be on many levels.

the other night, my daughter and I were out shopping for Christmas craft stuff at a local dollar store. I bumped into a woman who has been in and out of my life for 15 plus years. I hadn't seen her in over a year, partially because I was moved into another office in another building. We have shared much.......and will one day write her story too. anyways........when I introduced her to my daughter, whom she always asks about when I see her.....she gently leaned over and hugged her like she was one of her own.......and told her that I was her angel. I was so touched, and told her.......but also told her how much she means to me. We have had our own journey together and I know it's not over. In fact, she's coming to my office tomorrow......
all I can do is plant seeds, listen, and encourage. the personal work.......the hard work full of struggle and stress is in the hands of the person I am trying to support.

Matthew....your comment tells me that I'm doing the right thing sharing some of the stories I personally learn from. It is always present.....it is a multi-hued presence we must recognize in order to be able to embrace the needy and broken, the strong survivors, and the people who live in the margins of our community every single day.

We are all we have.
We are all we have.

take care.