Venting

Cherished recently posted about ignorance in the media on her talk about Judge Judy. It’s all too easy to commiserate, as there is a lot of that out there.

I had my finance class last night, as I do twice a week. We were learning about liquidity ratios. Then the instructor decided to go on a diatribe about the poor in America.

“If we are going to talk about poverty though, it’s really more poverty in values than material objects,” he said. He then continued to talk about how thanks to Welfare the poor in this country “all have VCRs and DVD players and the biggest radios. In fact, the reason why immigrants come to this country is to be the fat poor.”

Wow, double whammy, slamming immigrants AND the poor in the U.S.

After class I decided to tell him that yes, that was offensive, and perpetrating a myth that keeps others from helping those who need it most. He apologized, said he’d keep it out of the classroom, and I was fine, till I turned to leave and he said:

“I really am sorry that the truth offends you, but it’s the truth, it’s the way these people live, and I’m sorry you don’t want to see that.”

There was one student left in the class when I went up to him, and she was waiting for me outside the door. We had a nice talk about ignorance and how we do have to face a lot of it especially in the finance field which is dominated (at least in NYC) with a special breed of people. I’ve faced it at work before when ‘the girls,’ these two women in the office my age, were laughing over a photo of what they called a white trash wedding. They thought it was pathetic that people would wear ‘such cheap clothing’ on their wedding day. It was an e-mail forward they had gotten. I was livid that day too, telling them if people are happy, they’re in love, what does it matter what they are wearing?

“But it looks like it came from Wal-Mart!” one said.

Ugh. My final in this class is on Halloween. I can’t wait. I’m still debating sending off a note to the dean.

Slice of My Past - Living in a Garage

For a while when I was younger we lived in a camper inside a garage. When I started to remember that time period, I wanted to verify if it was true or not. I spent a few minutes online and found an address and name that matched the area and person I recall. My mother had told us at first that it was our uncle we were staying with, but later said he wasn’t really. There are a lot of memories swimming around from that period. I was allowed inside to sleep on occasions because the owner of the house had a daughter around my age. I slept on her floor.

I had very few toys at that time, one of which was a Speak and Spell. My mother told me that she had sold plasma to get that for me one Christmas as it was the only toy I wanted. She sold blood and plasma on more than one occasion when we were younger. Then, after staying in the trailer and in the house, it was missing. The daughter had all the ‘Speak and’ series (math, reading) and now had the Spelling one too. My mother insists she stole it, and brought it up over and over for a long time. I don’t know what to believe.

My brother was jealous that I got to spend more time indoors than he did. But he was already getting a reputation for acting out a lot. I remember one morning when he slept in late and I heard a lot of cursing. He was swearing in his sleep. Just loud, angry curses. It’s sad to think of an 11-year old boy so disturbed he’s doing that in his sleep. He wasn’t much better when he was awake.

After finding the name and phone number, I wrote this man. It’s funny, I know I’ll never reconnect with my mother, don’t want to. I don’t want to talk to my brother either, not really, as I mentioned before. At least, not now. But this man – I decided that if he was real, than my childhood was validated. Then I really did live in the garage of a house owned by a man who may or may not be related.

I spoke to my friend Xiomara about the letter. The main thing was to not mention the living in a garage while he had a house but to be kind and thankful for having shelter at all. I then asked if he was related, and what he remembered about me during that time and my mother. Once it passed Xiomara’s inspection in terms of not sounding angry or depressed or needy, I mailed it.

Very soon after I got a letter back. It was short, and riddled with misspellings. Yes, the letter said, I am your uncle. Yes, it continued, you lived with us. Yes, I have a daughter and you used to play together. Yes, Yes, Yes. It was real.

As for the questions about myself and my mother? “I don’t feel comfortable talking about her,” was the reply.

But that was enough. It was all real. I really lived in a garage with a bi-polar mother and brother who cussed in his sleep and was beginning to hate the world. This meant there really was a place that had ‘fried fish Friday’s’ that my mom would spit as she said. There was a neat-freak aunt and another aunt that had 21 cats and used to paint my nails and tried to allow me to be a little girl. There was just so much that happened – and it was real.

I look back now and is it any wonder it seems like a movie? I’m doing well living in Manhattan, working 6 days a week, and have constant access to food and shelter and clothes and things that I need. Then I see the past and the dumpster diving and living in garages and cars and hunger pangs and just so much anger and utter confusion and I’m really amazed that that is all part of me.

Picture from http://www.greenleafdollhouses.com/ found via google.

Obesity and Poverty

Thanks to ozplasmic from Worth1000 for the use of his image, "Duffer"

It’s too bad Shaqueal O’Neil’s reality show where he teaches a bunch of overweight children how to live healthier lives hasn’t taken off. The numbers of people overweight in the United States are staggering – and I really don’t think it’s a coincidence that these numbers go up as children’s’ test scores go down. I think that people just aren’t taught what healthy is anymore.

What is really interesting, and cause for alarm, is that obesity seems to becoming more and more a problem of the poor and middle class, those who can’t afford the private schools where nutrition is taught, or on a more basic level, fresh vegetables.

In my area you can get a box of macaroni for 1$. McDonald’s has the dollar menu where you can feast on fries and some chicken patty dish and fried cheese and other such things. That macaroni and a dollar brick of ‘processed cheese food’ can feed a family. I’ve seen people at McDonald’s splitting the sandwich among their kids for dinner.

Now, broccoli is anywhere from 1.49 – 2 dollars USD a head. I’ve seen it up even higher. All vegetables are much more costly than the starch and fats you can pick up at the dollar store.

I remember my diet growing up. We had that big brick of oddly orange government cheese. We had hot dogs and milk and a lot of macaroni and cheese. Once, I really wanted to help make dinner but ended up spilling the macaroni noodles in the sink when I was draining it. I remember crying as my mother yelled, scooping the noodles out of the sink, as that meant we wouldn't have as much for dinner.

There were times of bacon but more often than not it was tortillas and chili (which I couldn’t stomach) and meat loaf and hunger pangs. When we did have vegetables it was corn or succotash because – admit it – at every food drive this is what we, as kids, sneak out of the cupboard so we don’t’ have to eat it ourselves.

Notice what’s missing? Vegetables don’t keep well enough to be given out to the poor. The other foods do.

When I had to do my ‘observations’ in schools for my teaching certificate I was appalled at what I saw. This was the breakfast for those on the school breakfast program:

A soft pretzel
An apple
A carton of milk

The kids tossed the apple and milk, walked over to the vending machine and got some sugared drink, and sat down. When I asked a teacher about it she said that it fits the food groups – grains (the pretzel), dairy (the milk), and fruit (the apple).

Uhm, soft pretzel for breakfast? Snapple? No. But then, I remember my free lunch days and my favorite meal was the garlic breadsticks with a chunk of mozzarella and spaghetti sauce. All the food groups represented, right?

Food and poverty. From my own life there are definitely issues with it. Growing up food wasn’t a regular occurrence, and things such as chips and pizza were extreme luxuries. When extra money was had my brother and I would run down to the store and stock up on candy and soda and Cheetos. Sure, most kids buy candy, but we were in our teens and having ice cream for breakfast and pooling money for bacon extra cheese pizza and just stuffing our stomachs hoping to have some kind of comfort and feeling of normalcy. The minute food was available; we’d eat all of it.

So what are the problems here?

No education about healthy eating.
No real access or money to buy food that is healthy.
Emotional/psychological issues stemming from times of extreme poverty.

When I went vegetarian (I eat fish, so not full) my mother was incredibly pissed off. At first she claimed that it was because I was again trying to separate myself from the family. This happened in 10th grade, so it’s been a long time since I’ve had a pork chop or beef. But now I realize part of her anger might have been the thought of how she would feed me. She had a regular job, not the best paying one, but we did have pork chops smothered in mushroom soup and fried chicken (Swanson) and mashed potatoes. But I didn’t consider the cost of vegetables, just that I loved (and still love) broccoli and spinach. I ended up eating a lot of pasta.

Vegetarianism is not an offer when the other choice is hunger, you know?

Are there solutions?

Well, our local greenmarket has started excepting food stamps (now the EBT or Electronic Benefits Transfer card). I know some organizations go into impoverished neighborhoods and teach nutrition. I think one of these is even bringing a farmers market to housing projects. There is at least a movement to improve school lunches.

But what of the movement to improve poverty and allow people on food stamps more money to buy fresh foods? What of the people to help those who have climbed out of poverty develop a healthy relationship with food? (Yea, I’m going over that in therapy too at times.)