Tuesday, September 1, 2015

That Person

I'm going to share a little secret with you. For the first three years of Ryan's life, I received government assistance. Well, let's call it what it is. I was on welfare. It's a fact I'm neither proud nor ashamed of, and it wasn't a secret for any reason other than it really doesn't come up in conversation much. Therefore, it's not something most people know about me.

But lately, I've been seeing lots of Facebook posts and blog entries and random articles in random places on this very topic. Different perspectives and voices, but all different sides of the same coin.

The most common debate seems to be that of people milking the system. Memes and sometimes photos pop up in my news feed fairly regularly.


And regardless of your political inclination or your opinion on the topic of government assistance in general, I want to share a small piece of my story. I don't offer it as part of a political debate but perhaps as a perspective some may not have considered before.

I was 21 years old when Ryan was born, a junior in college (or maybe a senior...I'm not sure since I was on the five-year plan). Starting a family at that point in my life was not part of my plan, and I certainly wasn't financially capable of supporting a baby (or myself in the real world which I had just flung myself into). So in order to stay in school with the hopes of someday being able to stand on my own, I asked for help, government help.

I received W.I.C., food stamps, and Medicaid. This was about the same time that traditional food stamps (you know, the bills that look like foreign currency) were replaced with the EBT card, a card that functions like a debit card except that the funds can only be applied to the cost of groceries.

I was issued my card, and it didn't take me long to figure out that there was more money being deposited into my account than I was spending on groceries. After a few months of seeing this same trend and thinking maybe a mistake had been made in my paperwork, I brought it up at my next appointment with my case worker. I'm sure I brought it up partly because of feeling deep in my gut that it just wasn't right, but I think it was mostly because I was terrified that the clerical error would be corrected and I would have to pay back all of that money.

*NOTE: More often than not, I have trouble remembering what I had for lunch yesterday (or even what day of the week it was yesterday), but I remember this conversation from 21 years ago as if it happened mere moments ago. I can play it in my head like a scene from a movie.

My case worker was a heavy-set black woman who was at least a head taller than me. She was vibrant and beautiful and encouraging (and she always wore a beautiful shade of pink rouge). On this particular day she wore a turquoise blouse with gold buttons, and she had a butterfly in her hair (like on a pin maybe).  When I told her that too much money was being deposited into my account, and there was no way Ryan and I could possibly eat that amount in groceries, she said, "It's OK, sweetheart. They won't take it back." And then she smiled.

"They won't take it back."
That was it.
End of discussion.

She did alleviate my fear of repayment for what had to have been a mistake, but she also never blinked or acted surprised by what I said. It hadn't been a mistake. It hadn't been a surprise. Nothing.

I won't pretend that at the age of 21 I realized all of the implications of what she said to me. I'm sure my young, stupid self didn't sit there thinking, "Wow, this system is broken," but I remember the conversation to this day. It struck some internal cord with me, but I continued about my way.

I continued to grocery shop, albeit on a whole new level. I stepped up my grocery game and still barely put a dent in the ever-growing balance on my EBT card. We ate better then than we do now, that's for sure. I purchased name brands that I'm way too cheap to take off the shelf these days and bought cuts of meat I didn't even know how to cook.

And for almost one full year after I no longer qualified for food stamps, I continued to buy groceries using that card. That's how much the balance grew over time (despite my crazy cart stuffing). Looking back, I wonder if it's illegal to continue to use the card after you are no longer in the system. Just in case, go back and reread this paragraph inserting the word "allegedly" wherever you feel it best fits. Thanks.

Here is my point (finally): When you see that person in the grocery store paying with an EBT card (yes, the person with more name brands than you and maybe even a prime rib or two), remember that that person didn't break the system. That person may not even be milking the system. That person may have asked for just enough assistance to temporarily stay afloat, and it's not his or her fault when more than they asked was given. Think about that before you snap a picture to post on FB with a demeaning comment or before you make disparaging remarks about him or her (maybe under your breath to other patrons and maybe to intentionally be heard by the person in question).

That person may just be continuing on their way after hearing, "It's OK, sweetheart. They won't take it back."

That person may be receiving the temporary assistance that is going to allow her to continue her education and get a job she loves and raise her son and own her home.

That person may be me.