Roof of The World: October 2008

What follows is a combination of my angered scrawlings from the bus this morning and my now much calmer reflective thoughts. as i sit in my room hours later I'm finding it difficult to begin writing. Should I plainly state the actions leading to this post, hitting my obvious theme? "Two weeks ago I applied for Food Stamps with the Hawaii Department of Human Resources. This morning, 6:58am walking into the parking lot at work, i get a call from the welfare office in Kapolei." A historical fact. Suggesting the emotional state which prompted discussion in my mind? "I do not want to single out my experience as anything extraordinary. I rather note the ordinary nature of my entire day. This is a kind of struggle for me. in many ways unaware, uncomfortable, and unconnected. yet learning and understanding and still without solutions." For those more adventurous types, I may explain geography. "Makaha, where I live, is roughly one hour (by bus) north of Kapolei. Nanakuli, work, is just about right in between." Economics? "$250,000...well."

I am writing, I have the time and capability to write b/c in many ways food stamps are more of a luxury than a real necessity for me. This is a distinction I make. And this may have all been said so many times before and i am conscious of recording it once again. For my benefit. and for others who are as confused as I.

To enjoy healthy (expensive) fruits and vegetables, to break even 10 months from now, and to take advantage of my volunteer status, I was able to disregard my stipend as countable income. Making me eligible for State Assistance. In a small way i feel guilty. Am i stealing someone's opportunity? Do I really need help? its the government. I get paid by them anyway! but taxes and someone pays. They tax me too. i imagine these may be similar (certainly not identical) struggles for anyone else walking into the welfare office for their first time. it is easiest to refuse to accept you are scraping the bottom of the barrel. and by contrast, most will not accept how wealthy they really are or how deep you can actually sink. in the waiting room i may be one of the few lucky enough to be new to the process. Generational poverty is a different bird. This morning on the bus i heard two women talking about their respective rent rates, energy saving tips, and welfare benefits. these are the people to ask about going green. skipping out on hot water. unplugging the fridge. the women sitting closest to me commented that when she was growing up her family was really poor. but she struggled out of the situation and now provides for a family of her own. her son helps her and her husband with rent. he receives welfare checks too. poverty is relative.

So the call i get this morning. 6:58am. I have an appointment in Kapolei at 11 and need an exhaustive list of documents ensuring i am both a US citizen and living a life of meager means. how to gather all of these documents in four hours is difficult to comprehend. at the desk they are confused when i show a passport instead of a drivers license. it turns out the women was doing me a favor and scheduling me in an open spot without going through the process of sending me a letter etc. talking to her on the phone though, it seemed like I had no choice but to show up in four hours. in any case, i am told there are no afternoon appointments available. I will have to leave work, travel north to makaha, then south past work, to kapolei and then back to nanakuli. altogether this is not a problem for me. luckily i live and work near bus stops. i rationalized this in my head a few hours later. but there are few things more frustrating than waiting for a bus when you are in a rush. so my mind is crunching numbers. killing time. I am in the ideal situation for dealing with this. Most however, are not. I have a steady and secure job which i can leave for a few hours without being fired. i'll make up the time later. Most minimum wage jobs don't play by these rules. But telling someone in charge that I am leaving, or just asking for time off is still difficult. even if peers are in the same situation and if there is time to plan ahead. I am not ashamed to tell my coworkers where I am off to, but I also don't want them to think I am struggling. I am single and childless. what do i have to complain about? Most of the other clients waiting to be seen by their workers were mothers with very young children. I was able to come up with $40 at the start of the month for a bus pass so it doesn't matter that a trip to kapolei would cut into my daily transportation fund. these inconveniences seem hardly worth noticing until they become the logic of daily life. two dollars here or there. It just seems that there are too many contradictions. I accept, embrace, find enjoyment in the absurd and the ironic. yet, this is hard to work with.

In the light of my desk lamp, I am still upset by the process. In my case, I have everything to my advantage. For others, getting help is another challenge in itself. but i can't claim a solution. this is only an exercise. stretch.