Recently, I came across a powerful post on the Humans of New York Facebook page that struck a deep chord within me. It featured an older gentleman reflecting on the misconceptions surrounding poverty. He confessed, “I used to believe that I could simply tell a poor person to ‘get a job, save money, and pull yourself up by the bootstraps.’ I no longer hold that view. I was blind to the realities faced by those in poverty.” His words resonated with my own experiences, illuminating the struggles of families like mine.
I embody what it means to be part of the working poor. My partner and I both work full-time, and I also juggle a part-time job, yet every month feels like an uphill battle. For a long time, I felt ashamed of our financial situation. Despite adhering to the so-called guidelines of the American Dream—earning a degree, getting married, starting a family, and buying a home—my reality is one of overwhelming debt. The likelihood of dying still owing money to the government for student loans and the bank for our mortgage feels all too real.
No matter how hard I strive, I find myself just a paycheck away from financial ruin. Each month, I carefully note our bills on the calendar, attempting to match them with our income. If there’s a school event requiring funds, I ponder which bill to delay for another week. I’ve memorized the grace periods of our bills, so I know that if I can’t pay the electricity this month, I can manage a partial payment by the following month without fear of immediate disconnection.
It’s a draining existence, but I hesitate to ask for assistance. I recognize that there are families in even more dire situations, and I remind myself that we are fortunate to have food, shelter, and safety. Those proverbial bootstraps? I’ve been gripping mine tightly, yet it feels like it’s never enough.
This past Christmas, we fell behind on our mortgage by nearly three months just to afford propane for heating, buy a few gifts, and get new winter coats for the kids. However, our car needs new tires, and my child’s rare genetic condition incurs thousands in out-of-pocket expenses each month, as we don’t qualify for any assistance programs. I often lie awake, overwhelmed by the financial burden.
Living paycheck to paycheck is the norm for many, and I know I’m not alone in this struggle. Research from the Center for Poverty Research at the University of California, Davis, defines the working poor as those who spend over half the year in the labor force but still earn below the poverty line. As of 2014, about 45 million Americans fell below this threshold, representing 14.5% of the population.
The current political climate exacerbates our plight. With the GOP dominating Congress, legislation increasingly marginalizes the poor and middle class. Prior to the election, reports indicated that the Trump administration could implement the harshest cuts to programs supporting low and middle-income individuals since the Reagan era. These changes are materializing through tax reforms and attempts to dismantle the Affordable Care Act.
For families like mine, the looming threat of losing healthcare is terrifying. My son didn’t choose to have a rare disorder, and no parent is truly prepared for the steep costs associated with keeping their child healthy under such circumstances. My 50-hour workweek often feels futile in this environment.
When I hear discussions about bootstraps, I think of my grandparents, who thrived during a prosperous post-war economy. They had the means to pull themselves up in any direction they desired. In contrast, despite my efforts, I find myself in significant debt from a modest home and an education that hasn’t led to a sufficient income.
While my children venture to school in their new winter gear, I’ll be trudging through the snow in worn-out sneakers, unable to afford proper footwear for myself. We’ll manage to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads, but it comes at a steep cost to my health and well-being. There is nothing lazy about my situation. The reality of being part of the working poor is an unjust and disheartening experience. The misconceptions surrounding our circumstances are even more painful.
The gentleman from Humans of New York who acknowledged his past ignorance about poverty ignited a flicker of hope in me. It felt validating to see someone publicly recognize the daily struggles faced by people like me.
I am a representation of the working poor, and I want my story to be seen.