Welfare

I spent about two hours at the Department of Health and Human Services today in order to apply for food assistance. It was an experience in the diversity we have in Portland, it was long and it was boring, but none of that came as a surprise. Upon entering the building, I was confronted by a sign that read We are experiencing a high volume day... In other words: be ready to wait a long time. Ok so. I got in line, filled out my paperwork, took my number and began the wait. Sitting there, reading Virgil’s Aeniad and plugged in to my ipod, I was suddenly conscience of my upbringing, my class, and my ethnicity. I was suddenly the minority in all categories: white, middle class and a tri-lingual, continental European. It was clear to the eyes that looked me over that I didn’t belong there; these services were not supposed to be for me.

I likely reek of middle class-ness to some of my companions in this particular waiting room. Although this is not totally accurate, I really do have a few serious safety nets in my life. While my parents never earned a lot, it was middle class income and I was educated in elite International schools in two of Europe's richest cities. If I was truly about to face homeless-ness or destitution, I would be sent money for a plane ticket, or to see me through a few months (and there are a few sources at least, I can turn to). This means, as I walk into DHHS and sit waiting for benefits, there is a visible wall of privilege between me and my companions. For me, going to get food assistance is a luxury, something I decided (another indicator) to do during a quiet afternoon at work. I am eligible for food assistance because of the nature of my work (I am a volunteer on a very small monthly stipend). The reality of my income is such that it is very hard for me to live within my means, but only because of all the extras in my life: cell phone, credit cards, restaurants, etc. If I were to really go through my spending each month, and cut out just the “entertainment”, I bet I could live on my income and not need food assistance.

I was given more cause for reflection when I sat in the office with my case worker and she was going over my numbers. She literally threw money at me: food assistance, food pantry vouchers, heating assistance and medical insurance. All of this is great, and I am thankful that I live in a system that provides me with these support nets, but what struck me is how quickly my case worker determined that I, and my flat-mates, clearly didn’t have enough money. We needed lots of assistance to off-set our costs each month. We were offered ways of getting most of our ‘essential’ bills reduced (housing, heat, water, food, etc.) with virtually no verification.

I am struck by the fact that we are fortunate to have these supports, and I believe that we should have it this way, but it is also amazing how much we feel we need. We don’t live within our means and to some degree, we have a system that is facilitating this excess. On my income, it is a relief to get food assistance, but not totally essential, and all the other stuff just mean I am have more disposable income. Again, this is good, most of it will go into savings, but it is crazy to me that $800 a month, as a single individual, is considered too poor to survive without help. So, my point here is that rather than simply being supported in ways that are significant to the individual applicant, I left DHHS with a sense that I now had more ‘fun’ money, I was encouraged to take more than I needed.