Mr. President, Congress, why can't I have a job?
While you and Congress childishly debate the debt ceiling, I've reached mine, and it can't be magically raised.
Last week I published I need more than a little help -- I need a job! In that diary, I mentioned that I was going to the Save Our Schools March and only had money for a one way ticket. Several of you here worried that I might have trouble getting home. Ten days have gone by, and I've attended the excellent Save Our Schools March. Still the ridiculous debt ceiling debate rages on, perpetrated by cruel individuals who care nothing about ordinary citizens and who are holding our social safety net hostage. Still, no talk of creating jobs. Can you not hear me SCREAMING?
At this point, getting back to Portland is the least of my worries. I still have no job and no hope of ever getting work again. And though I think my situation may be unique, I'm not unlike millions of others who have lost their jobs and feel the same way.
Mr. President, I want to know why I can't have a job. I can't live on $6.57 a day. Join me below the jump.
Before I lost my job--career--life, I was an educator and a damn fine one at that. I lost my job for making a statement in support of peace before the war in Iraq began. I lost my job; teachers lost their right of free speech; and I've been unemployed since the SCOTUS declined to hear my case in 2007. (It's a long story, and you can find out more about it here if you're interested, but it's only relevant to this diary for context. It's not the story I want to tell today.)
The day after the Supreme Court of the United States declined to hear my case, the attorney for the school that fired me posted this about me in The Administrator magazine and online at the American Association of School Administrator's website, Personnel Pitfalls in Cyberworld (2007): (Italics, emphasis mine.)
One can imagine any number of other disclosures that present similar problems. For example, our firm is involved in litigation in the Supreme Court with a teacher, Deborah Mayer, who contends she was discharged from her job due to in-class speech protesting the Iraq War. A fairly standard Internet search on Mayer reveals not only the federal court case, Mayer v. Monroe County School Corporation, but also the fact she has been a frequent participant in anti-war rallies and a partner with Cindy Sheehan, the anti-war activist whose son Casey Sheehan was killed in Iraq in 2004. (Not true. I was not a partner with Cindy Sheehan.)
Assume Mayer applies for a teaching position in your district. Before the common use of keyword searches on the Web, a school probably would have received limited information regarding her discharge from the Monroe County School Corp., but probably would not have received any information relating to her lawsuit or anti-war activities. If you declined to hire her based on that information alone it would probably be well within your rights to do so.
However, in this Internet age, what if you perform a Google search showing her litigation and anti-war activities. Assume you take the exact same action, declining to hire her based on her prior discharge. Unfortunately, given the knowledge of her anti-war activities and lawsuit, your school district may very well be subject to legal action by Mayer alleging you violated her First Amendment rights by refusing to hire her based upon her anti-war protests.
Of course, this reasoning is absurd, but it's out there. I haven't had one interview for a real job since it was published -- in education or anything else. Three and a half years is a long time to be unemployed. During that time, I've lost everything I had accumulated over time -- nice home, car, savings (legal fees took a great deal of that), insurance, credit, and so on. During the past year, I've been reduced to borrowing from family. I can't do that any more. I just can't. They don't have extra money to support me, and I'm not their responsibility. Why can't I have a job?
I receive $6.57 a day ($200 a month) in food stamps. That's my safety net. Mr. President, members of Congress, I'd like to see you exist on $6.57 a day. You can only buy food at the grocery store with it. Nothing else. No rent, no shampoo or sweet smelling soap, no TP, no utilities, no internet, no phone, no transportation, no medicine, no clothes, no restaurants, no haircuts, no entertainment, no coffees, none of the little things that make life enjoyable.
Mr. President, Members of Congress, $6.57 a day. I challenge you to try it for a while with no hope of getting more. Just long enough to long know the sleepless nights I've known worrying about how to survive. Just long enough to lose a tooth because you can't afford to go to the dentist. Just long enough to lose all the tangible possessions you value most. Just long enough to suffer the humiliation of having to ask family for handout after handout, not knowing that they'll ever get it back. Just long enough to remember with fondness what it was like to go out with friends without feeling like a freeloader. Just long enough to hear the creditors ceaselessly calling on your phone or banging at your door.
I really don't care if I have that $6.57 a day if I can't have anything else. What's the point?
It's not possible to live without money. That's why I need a job. Why can't I have a job? Mr. President, you and Arne Duncan, at the behest of Bill Gates, gave $100 million of our tax dollars to two of the most selfish, self-serving people/organizations ever created to staff our poorest schools with unqualified personnel. That's a jobs program for Ivy Leaguers. If you can do it for them, you can create jobs for me and others like me. (I met some kids this week -- from New Orleans -- who are taught by the amateurs you sent them in place of professional teachers. Those kids have a vocal, visceral dislike for your fake teachers. They are so angry, angrier than I am, if that's possible. I'm more dedicated to them now than ever. I had offered professional teachers for next to nothing. I digress.)
Mr. President, if I can't work, I can't survive. Don't you get it? I'm dying while millionaires and billionaires are living large and killing the profession I love.
If I can't have a job, how about a small loan? A small bailout package for me? I'm smart and a hard worker. I can start a business and put others to work, too. All I need is a little money to get started. Not a handout, a loan -- just like we did for the banks. I don't need much. I'm very frugal. I need some money to survive. Don't you get it? Don't you care?
I'm still here in Washington, D.C. Mr. President, and I'm going to be outside your door at the White House, or perhaps on a bench in the shade of Lafayette Park, Monday, which I'm guessing is going to be a pretty big day for you, but maybe you can take a moment to tell me why I can't have a job. If you give away the rest of the social safety net that we all need, we'll have some other things to talk about as well.
I need a job. We need jobs. If we had jobs, the thugs in Congress couldn't treat us like slaves because we would have some money of our own. Please let us live our lives with dignity. I need purpose in my life and my work gives me that purpose. This is a matter of survival. Please, give me a job. Give us jobs!
So, put the stupid coin in the bank already, give the hostage-taker bullies your best middle-finger salute, fix the debt ceiling problem yourself because you are Commander-in-Chief. We elected YOU. Do it, and then get serious about putting people to work. Why can't we have jobs?
Deb Mayer, peace teacher