Growing up poor in America. . .

I would not be in the position I am in now if not for a helping hand up.  You see, I was born poor in the United States.  My father left us when I was a very young child and my mother struggled to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table.

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Admittedly, even though she did her best, my mother didn't always do a good job and many nights there was no food to feed us.  Or shoes for our feet.   Or clothes for school - especially new clothes.  Many of my teeth rotted from malnutrition (as did my siblings).  And we moved around.  Alot.  Always one step ahead of the bill collector, I guess.  

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Come on, jump with me . . .

I remember sitting in the police car at the age of three while we were being thrown out of our flat and the woman was keeping all of our things - including our Christmas gifts!  This is the same woman who took money from my mother to watch us while she worked, yet kept us penned in the back yard, rain or shine, sleet or snow, and only allowed us in to eat the scraps from the table that were left from her family's meals.  And I remember how my sister would admonish me when I cried while in that yard because the tears would freeze to my face.

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Yes, we were poor.  And we were often treated like trash.

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We were so poor that we were often on welfare.  And had to eat surplus foods and wear those funny side-saddled shoes that everyone knew were from welfare.  But being poor means you cannot be proud.  It means being ecstatic and grateful when that Thanksgiving basket is delivered to your door when the cupboards were bare and there was going to be no dinner.  It means being grateful that you had people kind enough to give you their old clothes to wear - even when their children were mean enough to call attention to that fact in front of a bunch of other kids only to embarrass you.  

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Now I don't tell you this to get your sympathy.  I tell you these shameful secrets because I could not be the person I am, or in the position I am in, if it had not been for the grace and generosity of the people of this country.  People who were willing to overlook the fact that my father left us and my mother wasn't educated and couldn't earn a decent living.  People who thought it important to take care of children regardless of their parents abilities.

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I will be forever grateful to those people.  People who cared enough about the welfare of all children to ask for and to pass legislation to provide for them.  I will be forever grateful for all of those free lunches I received because without them, on many occasions throughout the years, I would not have had any lunch at all.  I will always have a special fondness in my heart for institutional toast (and I know you all know what I mean).  This is the toast that is prepared on huge cookie sheets in the oven and is served semi-soggy when you receive it on your plate.  Why a special fondness?  Because for two years I went to a school that had a free breakfast program in addition to the free lunch program, and these are the only years I was ever assured of having breakfast.  More often than not, there was no breakfast at our house.  Was I grateful?  Hell yes!

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Because of these kind and caring people, I have grown into a productive adult.  I went to college on student loans provided by people who asked for and passed legislation to help people of lesser means achieve an education.  And I kept my end of the bargain.  I am a hard-working, law-abiding, taxpaying citizen of the United States as a result.  While I am still paying off those same student loans, I am always grateful to write that check to the lender every month.  My education was my way out of poverty.  All those free lunches and food baskets and surplus foods were the little bits of glue that kept my life together to get me to college age.  

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Was it my fault we were on welfare?  No.  Was it my fault that I received free lunch at school?  No, not at all.  But those in power in Washington want to make it the fault of every poor child in America.  It's the age of personal responsibility, you know.  Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, you know.  Well let me tell you, I didn't have any bootstraps to pull myself up by even if I could have taken `personal responsibility'.  

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These days it is more important to those in Congress and in the Bush administration to give tax cuts to the wealthy while paying for it by throwing children out of school lunch programs, denying medical treatment for those too poor to afford it, and reducing yet again the amount of money available for education through the student loan program.  And I won't even go into the short-funding of the public schools which further reduces educational opportunities.

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So what ever happened to all those people who cared so much about the children?  Have they all died and gone to heaven?  Or have their hearts merely hardened as their bank accounts grew on the backs of those unfortunate enough to be poor?

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This used to be the land of plenty.  A land where it was not only common to dream of better things, but just as common to achieve those dreams.   It appears that those days are gone.  Middle class is being relegated to the good old days.  Now, those who work hard are no longer entitled to dream the American dream.  That dream is gone.  It has been shred and in its place sits the new national nightmare - autocracy and serfdom; the wealthy and the poor.

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Welcome to the world of the poor, my friends.  I know many of you believe it can't happen to you, but believe me when I tell you that we are all but mere steps away from joining those ranks.  Just how did we let ourselves slip so far?