Butterfly Cauldron
Sunday, October 15, 2006
If I had $40. . .
So. Reading Belle and Bitch | Lab and I started thinking about class and notions of poverty. About how what constitutes 'poor' is different for people depending on where they live, how they were raised and exactly how many 'poor' people they know. This whole thing started as a spin-off of a post on Feministe that mentioned spending $40 a month on leg waxing while in law school -- and I should note I personally don't see anything wrong with that, if you can afford to do it. Hell, when I was in grad school I had a budget set aside for trashy romance novels and B-grade horror movies. Grad school sucks your brain dry, so if you have the extra cash to do something that makes it less brain-sucking, go for it. But not everyone has that luxury.
And that's really what this is about, I think. For me, anyway. The idea that, for some people, the idea that you simply do not have $40 extra a month is inconceivable. Everyone has $40 extra a month, don't they? Well, no. We don't. In fact, some of us don't have $5 extra a month and if we did we'd be spending it on things like gas or food and not buying a new paperback or renting the latest zombie movie. (Oh, gods. I so miss those days! Ahem.)
Growing up, I didn't realize I was poor. Strange, but true. I grew up on a farm, in very rural Louisiana. My nearest neighbors were my grandparents and two sets of aunts and uncles. We grew our own vegetables and raised cows and pigs, so we weren't ever hungry. I didn't realize it wasn't normal to wear hand-me-downs, things your own Mother had worn in high school, until I was in junior high and a girl, one who I sorta thought was a friend, asked me all disgusted like why I never wore blue jeans. Which made me start crying when I told her I just didn't have any, because we didn't have the money. I had never really thought about not having the money until then. I never really cared what I was wearing until them, either. But suddenly, it all crystalized for me. I was poor. I wasn't starving, being kicked out of my house poor, but I was poor. We had a house because my parents had been given one as a wedding present by an uncle that just really liked them. Of course, when he gave it to them, it didn't have an indoor bathroom and was very, very tiny. But at least it was a roof over their head. They went into debt adding a bathroom before I was born and then, when I was probably about 8 or so, remodeling the house so my brother and I could have our own bedrooms. (We were getting to the age where we were starting to notice we were made kinda differently, so it was time for us to get our own beds, ya know?)
I never had luxuries like cable television when I was growing up. All my friends did, but I didn't. This only bugged me because it kept me from being able to talk about the things they were talking about. I had never seen MTV until I visited my Aunt Vickie in Lafayette. And I'd stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning, watching, just glued to the television because it was something I didn't have. I couldn't make long distance calls on our telephone either, because it was too expensive. But, because we lived so far out of town, calling any of my friends (who all lived in town) was long distance. So, when I went home from school, that was all the contact I had with my friends. Summer breaks, where you're supposed to be hanging out with your friends, I was stuck in the country on a farm, helping my dad bale hay so we could have the money for school cloths the next semester. And all our clothes came from the Dollar General or Family Dollar. My mother, when I came home that time in tears because I was wearing clothes from the fricking 60s instead of blue jeans, took me into town to the Dollar General and bought me a cheap pair of jeans. She probably didn't really have the money to do that, but she did it because I was so very upset about it.
The paint in my bedroom when I was a child wasn't very good. In that, we didn't have the money to buy enough paint to do the whole room, so most of the walls had only a light coating of yellow on them. You could see the nails and the lines of the board through it. Which never really bothered me, until I had a friend over for the night. I thought everything was going well, we had fun. Until the next day at school, I heard her telling my other 'friends' that my room was awful. That you could see through the paint and that the walls weren't finished and there was no molding around the edges and I had only like five posters on the wall. Which was all true, but had never bothered me before. I had never really cared, because frankly I'm not the sort to put much stock in appearances. (Which all those 'friends' came to appreciate much later, but at this age they were all about judging and fitting in and ostracizing the weird girl.) So, I got really, really upset about that too and, since I knew we didn't have the money to repaint my room, started cutting pictures out of old magazines and making pictures and posters and things to put all over my walls, to cover up the horrible paint and the nails. The next time I had someone over, they thought it was the coolest room they'd ever seen. Because they didn't know how much pain had gone into it, I suspect.
The thing is, I knew there were people who were poorer than I was. I knew there were people who didn't have food to eat or a place to sleep -- because my family made it a point to share what little we had with people who had even less. My family was forever bringing people over for dinner or giving them blankets or pillows or cans of fruit my mother had canned or whatever we had that they didn't. We were poor, but there were people much poorer than we were. We had a house, we never had the utilities cut off, we never went hungry. We were lucky.
It's only been recently that my mother has started to spend money on herself. To my mother, $40 is way too much to spend on a new pair of pants. Or a new pair of shoes. She'll do it, if I'm there to talk her into it, but otherwise...she just can't bring herself to spend money on herself. It's a habit she picked up raising her family on next to no money. You don't have money for things you don't need. You just don't. And when you realize you do, instead of spending it, you put it aways for later because something is always going to come up and you'll be glad you've got th at $40 for a tank of gas or a new car battery instead of those boots you really wanted.
To a lot of people in Louisiana, I have a good job. I have a really good job, actually. And I don't make $27k a year. Imagine, for a moment, making $27k a year and raising a family. In this state, that's a reality. In fact, in this state people making that much money are considered too wealthy to qualify for any family aid programs. (Well, unless you've got like four kids or more.) And you can't get my job without a college education, so in addition to raising a family and paying the rent and car note and insurance you've got to pay back college loans. It's nearly impossible, yet it's considered a good income.
The job I'm moving to next month pays me a little bit less. I'm willing to take a pay cut, because it's a state job which means I've got job security, good insurance and absolutely incredible retirement. I also have a clear path for promotion. So I can take a pay cut now, knowing I'll be making probably a good $5-6K more a year within two years. I'll also be able to get myself promoted to a manager's position in about three years, which means I'll be making close to $40K a year in the foreseeable future. So, by the time I'm 35 I'll actually have made my way out of lower-middle class. I'll be able to consider buying a house or having a child. I'll be able to relax and actually enjoy my life. For a lot of people, that's not something they can see. That's not something they can even imagine.
When people talk about spending $40 a month on leg waxing, the reaction they get is not because people necessarily begrudge them that luxury. It's because for a lot of people, that's just not a possibility. And we want people to understand that all these damned Feminist Wars are clouding the issues. It's not about what you spend your money on, it's that a great many of us simply don't have the money to spend, period. Is it really important if an individual woman spends $40 on leg waxing or on new shoes or on the latest, greatest please-your-man sexbot trinket when we have a huge class of women who don't even have the money to pay the rent? Who don't have the $40 to buy food for their children? Who don't have the money to put gas in the car to get to that college class? When we still have women working as many hours as a man but making less than he does, does it really matter what one person spends their extra cash on? Aren't we losing sight of the issue here?
And that's really what this is about, I think. For me, anyway. The idea that, for some people, the idea that you simply do not have $40 extra a month is inconceivable. Everyone has $40 extra a month, don't they? Well, no. We don't. In fact, some of us don't have $5 extra a month and if we did we'd be spending it on things like gas or food and not buying a new paperback or renting the latest zombie movie. (Oh, gods. I so miss those days! Ahem.)
Growing up, I didn't realize I was poor. Strange, but true. I grew up on a farm, in very rural Louisiana. My nearest neighbors were my grandparents and two sets of aunts and uncles. We grew our own vegetables and raised cows and pigs, so we weren't ever hungry. I didn't realize it wasn't normal to wear hand-me-downs, things your own Mother had worn in high school, until I was in junior high and a girl, one who I sorta thought was a friend, asked me all disgusted like why I never wore blue jeans. Which made me start crying when I told her I just didn't have any, because we didn't have the money. I had never really thought about not having the money until then. I never really cared what I was wearing until them, either. But suddenly, it all crystalized for me. I was poor. I wasn't starving, being kicked out of my house poor, but I was poor. We had a house because my parents had been given one as a wedding present by an uncle that just really liked them. Of course, when he gave it to them, it didn't have an indoor bathroom and was very, very tiny. But at least it was a roof over their head. They went into debt adding a bathroom before I was born and then, when I was probably about 8 or so, remodeling the house so my brother and I could have our own bedrooms. (We were getting to the age where we were starting to notice we were made kinda differently, so it was time for us to get our own beds, ya know?)
I never had luxuries like cable television when I was growing up. All my friends did, but I didn't. This only bugged me because it kept me from being able to talk about the things they were talking about. I had never seen MTV until I visited my Aunt Vickie in Lafayette. And I'd stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning, watching, just glued to the television because it was something I didn't have. I couldn't make long distance calls on our telephone either, because it was too expensive. But, because we lived so far out of town, calling any of my friends (who all lived in town) was long distance. So, when I went home from school, that was all the contact I had with my friends. Summer breaks, where you're supposed to be hanging out with your friends, I was stuck in the country on a farm, helping my dad bale hay so we could have the money for school cloths the next semester. And all our clothes came from the Dollar General or Family Dollar. My mother, when I came home that time in tears because I was wearing clothes from the fricking 60s instead of blue jeans, took me into town to the Dollar General and bought me a cheap pair of jeans. She probably didn't really have the money to do that, but she did it because I was so very upset about it.
The paint in my bedroom when I was a child wasn't very good. In that, we didn't have the money to buy enough paint to do the whole room, so most of the walls had only a light coating of yellow on them. You could see the nails and the lines of the board through it. Which never really bothered me, until I had a friend over for the night. I thought everything was going well, we had fun. Until the next day at school, I heard her telling my other 'friends' that my room was awful. That you could see through the paint and that the walls weren't finished and there was no molding around the edges and I had only like five posters on the wall. Which was all true, but had never bothered me before. I had never really cared, because frankly I'm not the sort to put much stock in appearances. (Which all those 'friends' came to appreciate much later, but at this age they were all about judging and fitting in and ostracizing the weird girl.) So, I got really, really upset about that too and, since I knew we didn't have the money to repaint my room, started cutting pictures out of old magazines and making pictures and posters and things to put all over my walls, to cover up the horrible paint and the nails. The next time I had someone over, they thought it was the coolest room they'd ever seen. Because they didn't know how much pain had gone into it, I suspect.
The thing is, I knew there were people who were poorer than I was. I knew there were people who didn't have food to eat or a place to sleep -- because my family made it a point to share what little we had with people who had even less. My family was forever bringing people over for dinner or giving them blankets or pillows or cans of fruit my mother had canned or whatever we had that they didn't. We were poor, but there were people much poorer than we were. We had a house, we never had the utilities cut off, we never went hungry. We were lucky.
It's only been recently that my mother has started to spend money on herself. To my mother, $40 is way too much to spend on a new pair of pants. Or a new pair of shoes. She'll do it, if I'm there to talk her into it, but otherwise...she just can't bring herself to spend money on herself. It's a habit she picked up raising her family on next to no money. You don't have money for things you don't need. You just don't. And when you realize you do, instead of spending it, you put it aways for later because something is always going to come up and you'll be glad you've got th at $40 for a tank of gas or a new car battery instead of those boots you really wanted.
To a lot of people in Louisiana, I have a good job. I have a really good job, actually. And I don't make $27k a year. Imagine, for a moment, making $27k a year and raising a family. In this state, that's a reality. In fact, in this state people making that much money are considered too wealthy to qualify for any family aid programs. (Well, unless you've got like four kids or more.) And you can't get my job without a college education, so in addition to raising a family and paying the rent and car note and insurance you've got to pay back college loans. It's nearly impossible, yet it's considered a good income.
The job I'm moving to next month pays me a little bit less. I'm willing to take a pay cut, because it's a state job which means I've got job security, good insurance and absolutely incredible retirement. I also have a clear path for promotion. So I can take a pay cut now, knowing I'll be making probably a good $5-6K more a year within two years. I'll also be able to get myself promoted to a manager's position in about three years, which means I'll be making close to $40K a year in the foreseeable future. So, by the time I'm 35 I'll actually have made my way out of lower-middle class. I'll be able to consider buying a house or having a child. I'll be able to relax and actually enjoy my life. For a lot of people, that's not something they can see. That's not something they can even imagine.
When people talk about spending $40 a month on leg waxing, the reaction they get is not because people necessarily begrudge them that luxury. It's because for a lot of people, that's just not a possibility. And we want people to understand that all these damned Feminist Wars are clouding the issues. It's not about what you spend your money on, it's that a great many of us simply don't have the money to spend, period. Is it really important if an individual woman spends $40 on leg waxing or on new shoes or on the latest, greatest please-your-man sexbot trinket when we have a huge class of women who don't even have the money to pay the rent? Who don't have the $40 to buy food for their children? Who don't have the money to put gas in the car to get to that college class? When we still have women working as many hours as a man but making less than he does, does it really matter what one person spends their extra cash on? Aren't we losing sight of the issue here?
Labels: feminism, job hunting, money
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Happy again
There's so much crap going on in the world right now and I just...I can't think about it. I'm happy, dammit. I want to stay happy, so I will.
You know what makes me happy? Tomorrow, I'm driving to Baton Rouge and signing the contract for my new job! Yes. That makes me crazy happy. Oooo, yes.
Know what makes me even happier? Next week, I get to resign! Oh, holy gods in heaven, thank you! My current job has been sapping my soul for years and finally, finally I'm free. My first day in my new job is Nov. 6. In the first three weeks I'm there, I'll get THREE holidays. Why? Because I'll be working for the state and they get beaucoup holidays. Monday to Friday, 8 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. No nights, no weekends, no required overtime. Bitching retirement. If I work a full 30 years, I draw 90 percent of my salary. I could retire by 62 and get plenty to live on. Plus, medical insurance. Good insurance too.
Plus, Baton Rouge. Lots of stuff to do there. Whee. And New Orleans only an hour away. *happy sigh*
You know what else makes me happy? I have discovered two pair of pants in my closet that I could not wear anymore that I now fit into. Better yet? I managed to lose the weight to get back into them without trying, intending to. I was just trying to eat things that made me feel better and look at that -- I get to reclaim some clothing. I think my body is trying to refind it's set point. I gained a bit of weight a year or so ago, thanks to my stupid Lupus and a couple courses of steroids and now I think my body is trying to get back to what it feels best at. Which means I'll probably drop another 30 lbs over the next year or so. Which is fine with me, since that won't make me a small girl, just a touch smaller. I look forward to getting back into my 22's again :) I got some wicked nice clothing that I wanna wear again.
Anyway, I'm happy again. Just thought I would share the joy!
You know what makes me happy? Tomorrow, I'm driving to Baton Rouge and signing the contract for my new job! Yes. That makes me crazy happy. Oooo, yes.
Know what makes me even happier? Next week, I get to resign! Oh, holy gods in heaven, thank you! My current job has been sapping my soul for years and finally, finally I'm free. My first day in my new job is Nov. 6. In the first three weeks I'm there, I'll get THREE holidays. Why? Because I'll be working for the state and they get beaucoup holidays. Monday to Friday, 8 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. No nights, no weekends, no required overtime. Bitching retirement. If I work a full 30 years, I draw 90 percent of my salary. I could retire by 62 and get plenty to live on. Plus, medical insurance. Good insurance too.
Plus, Baton Rouge. Lots of stuff to do there. Whee. And New Orleans only an hour away. *happy sigh*
You know what else makes me happy? I have discovered two pair of pants in my closet that I could not wear anymore that I now fit into. Better yet? I managed to lose the weight to get back into them without trying, intending to. I was just trying to eat things that made me feel better and look at that -- I get to reclaim some clothing. I think my body is trying to refind it's set point. I gained a bit of weight a year or so ago, thanks to my stupid Lupus and a couple courses of steroids and now I think my body is trying to get back to what it feels best at. Which means I'll probably drop another 30 lbs over the next year or so. Which is fine with me, since that won't make me a small girl, just a touch smaller. I look forward to getting back into my 22's again :) I got some wicked nice clothing that I wanna wear again.
Anyway, I'm happy again. Just thought I would share the joy!
Labels: fun, job hunting
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Looking for a job in the Bush economy
For the past several years, I've been looking for a new job. In that time, I've had three interviews and no offers. But this is a good economy, remember? With new jobs being created all the time, thus say the Bushinestas.
Is it? I'd argue that it's not, not for the average person. In the past, let's say three years, I've sent out hundreds of job applications to jobs all across the country. A certain percentage of those I wasn't expecting anything from, due to distance (it's not all that likely that a company in say, Alaska, is going to be willing to fly in people from all across the country to interview when they could find someone much closer to home. I get that.) or necessary level of experience. (Some jobs you apply for because they're just so good, you can't not apply.) Still, the vast majority of them, I was what the company said it was looking for and within reasonable distance.
I am not an uneducated person, nor do I lack job experience. I've got a Master's degree and ten years work experience. I have good references. I spent a great deal of time crafting my resume and cover letter. I'm serious about finding a new job, I'm serious about moving whereever that job is located. I'm not looking for something that pays me exhorbantly, nor do I want to live in some highrise somewhere. Economically, I'm a fairly simple girl. I need a decent place to live, enough money to pay my bills and some to sock back for retirement and a little extra to have some fun with. I don't expect nor want to be rich. I just want to be comfortable. I need a job with health insurance, due to my Lupus, but otherwise, I'm willing to negotiate points.
And yet, it's nearly impossible for me to get an interview, much less a new job. I've been to job coaches, to make sure there wasn't something I was unintentionally doing to turn off potential employers. This is a serious undertaking for me.
And still...nothing so far. Why is that? If I wanted to work at McDonalds or Taco Bell, I could do that. If I wanted to work an underpaid retail job, I could do that too. Those jobs are, yes, increasing. However, I don't want to do that. I'd be making less money than I am now and money is the main motivating factor for this job hunt. (I'm not even making $30k after working at my office for six years. This is insane.) So, while it may be true that jobs are being created, they are not living wage jobs, they are not jobs that can support a family, they are not jobs that allow workers to pay their bills. They are jobs that keep people in poverty.
I'm 31 years old and I have nothing saved for retirement. I cannot afford it. All my money goes to housing, food and medical bills. I don't need much more money, say another $400 a month, and I'd be okay. I could keep my head above water. But why, after all my education and work experience, should I only be keeping my head above water? Why can't I be comfortable? Why do I still have to worry, month to month, if I'm going to be able to pay all my bills? (And I never can. I've got medical bills from last year that I'm not able to pay anymore.) I worked for years to get my credit score fixed, I ditched all my credit cards and now, because of my recent spate of medical problems, I'm looking at my credit being destroyed again. I can't declare bankruptcy, not after the new laws that have been passed, so I'm basically screwed.
I'm not the only one I know in this situation. I realize, you can't generalize about the entire population from a few studies, but I've seen enough to recongize a trend. I have one friend who went to law school who couldn't find a job, so she's working at a Michael's craft store for just above minimum wage, just so she'll have a job. I have another friend who just finished her Ph.D, who's teaching at a very presitgious school who is making less than I am! She can't pay her bills and is constantly stressed out. I have friends who are working jobs that require them to have roommates to make ends meet. (This is very uncommon where I live, due to the low cost of living. I have a huge one-bedroom (plus utilities) for $425 a month. You can rent a decent house for probably $650 a month. And they're still having to split that cost with someone else.)
It's enough to make you want to give up, but you can't, because if you give up, you'll never find anything new. This is the robust economy the Merry Monkies are always talking about. But it's not robust for real people.
I'm hopeful, even though I know I shouldn't be, that one of the jobs I applied for is starting to pan out. I've gotten calls from some of my references that they've gotten called about me. So, maybe I won't be underemployed for much longer. It's only taken me four years, of course. And yet, I'm still worried that it's not going to happen. This economy destroys more than people's ability to take care of themselves, it destroys their ability to believe in themselves. If you're beaten down, you can't rebel. And if you can't rebel, you're easily controlled.
Is it? I'd argue that it's not, not for the average person. In the past, let's say three years, I've sent out hundreds of job applications to jobs all across the country. A certain percentage of those I wasn't expecting anything from, due to distance (it's not all that likely that a company in say, Alaska, is going to be willing to fly in people from all across the country to interview when they could find someone much closer to home. I get that.) or necessary level of experience. (Some jobs you apply for because they're just so good, you can't not apply.) Still, the vast majority of them, I was what the company said it was looking for and within reasonable distance.
I am not an uneducated person, nor do I lack job experience. I've got a Master's degree and ten years work experience. I have good references. I spent a great deal of time crafting my resume and cover letter. I'm serious about finding a new job, I'm serious about moving whereever that job is located. I'm not looking for something that pays me exhorbantly, nor do I want to live in some highrise somewhere. Economically, I'm a fairly simple girl. I need a decent place to live, enough money to pay my bills and some to sock back for retirement and a little extra to have some fun with. I don't expect nor want to be rich. I just want to be comfortable. I need a job with health insurance, due to my Lupus, but otherwise, I'm willing to negotiate points.
And yet, it's nearly impossible for me to get an interview, much less a new job. I've been to job coaches, to make sure there wasn't something I was unintentionally doing to turn off potential employers. This is a serious undertaking for me.
And still...nothing so far. Why is that? If I wanted to work at McDonalds or Taco Bell, I could do that. If I wanted to work an underpaid retail job, I could do that too. Those jobs are, yes, increasing. However, I don't want to do that. I'd be making less money than I am now and money is the main motivating factor for this job hunt. (I'm not even making $30k after working at my office for six years. This is insane.) So, while it may be true that jobs are being created, they are not living wage jobs, they are not jobs that can support a family, they are not jobs that allow workers to pay their bills. They are jobs that keep people in poverty.
I'm 31 years old and I have nothing saved for retirement. I cannot afford it. All my money goes to housing, food and medical bills. I don't need much more money, say another $400 a month, and I'd be okay. I could keep my head above water. But why, after all my education and work experience, should I only be keeping my head above water? Why can't I be comfortable? Why do I still have to worry, month to month, if I'm going to be able to pay all my bills? (And I never can. I've got medical bills from last year that I'm not able to pay anymore.) I worked for years to get my credit score fixed, I ditched all my credit cards and now, because of my recent spate of medical problems, I'm looking at my credit being destroyed again. I can't declare bankruptcy, not after the new laws that have been passed, so I'm basically screwed.
I'm not the only one I know in this situation. I realize, you can't generalize about the entire population from a few studies, but I've seen enough to recongize a trend. I have one friend who went to law school who couldn't find a job, so she's working at a Michael's craft store for just above minimum wage, just so she'll have a job. I have another friend who just finished her Ph.D, who's teaching at a very presitgious school who is making less than I am! She can't pay her bills and is constantly stressed out. I have friends who are working jobs that require them to have roommates to make ends meet. (This is very uncommon where I live, due to the low cost of living. I have a huge one-bedroom (plus utilities) for $425 a month. You can rent a decent house for probably $650 a month. And they're still having to split that cost with someone else.)
It's enough to make you want to give up, but you can't, because if you give up, you'll never find anything new. This is the robust economy the Merry Monkies are always talking about. But it's not robust for real people.
I'm hopeful, even though I know I shouldn't be, that one of the jobs I applied for is starting to pan out. I've gotten calls from some of my references that they've gotten called about me. So, maybe I won't be underemployed for much longer. It's only taken me four years, of course. And yet, I'm still worried that it's not going to happen. This economy destroys more than people's ability to take care of themselves, it destroys their ability to believe in themselves. If you're beaten down, you can't rebel. And if you can't rebel, you're easily controlled.
Labels: economy, job hunting
