There seems to be a great deal of debate regarding welfare lately. I am no great polititian, but I have had the “opportunity,” if you want to call it that, to look at things from another perspective lately. Every time there is a post on facebook the vitriol is what I notice first. Everyone talks about making the welfare recipients undergo drug tests. Which I suppose is all well and good, but always in these posts/rants, is the implied or outright statements, that these people on welfare 1. don’t have jobs and 2. if they can afford drugs, they can afford groceries. I wonder, why does welfare automatically = drugs? I’d like to present to you another picture of someone on welfare.
She is smart, educated and well-put together. She finds herself in a situation out of her control. She’s been a stay-at-home mom her whole life. She’s devoted her life to raising her kids and taking care of her family. But what her family, friends and neighbors don’t know is that she is also the victim of domestic violence. So one day, she finds the courage to get out. But, getting out comes at a high price. She needs help. A lot of help. Her dad helps her pay her rent on her three bedroom ranch home in a middle class suburban neighborhood so her kids can go to good schools. She drives a 12 year old Infiniti, not because she’s wasteful with money, but on the contrary, because she got a good deal and was able to pay cash for a car that is reliable. She works, full-time at the best job she find without a college degree or any work experience. She waits tables. And yes, she has a cell phone, but she needs it to keep in contact with her three children who often come home alone from school. She works hard, harder than you can imagine. She works to better her life, getting better education and a better job because she wants to get OFF of food stamps. But, she can’t afford to feed her growing boys. Not right now, and she’s grateful for the assistance of the state, although asking for the assistance is the most humiliating thing she’s ever done. And every time she pulls out her EBT card she ignores the hateful and judgmental stares of other customers and she vows to make this new job work, so that she can provide for her family.
She is me. And I don’t give a damn what you think. But, walk a mile in another person’s shoes before you judge, and make sure your glass house is rock proof, before you start throwing stones. Sometimes “the least of these” is not who you expect.
