Asking/applying for help

This is actually difficult to write about. I thought I might not write about it. But like I said before the embarrassing and painful is usually more interesting than the happy and content.

I’ll start by saying I have moved around a lot this year. Well I guess only three times in 9 months which I suppose is a lot. I moved home to help my mom because I felt she was drowning trying to take care of my sick dad. But more on that later. Maybe.

What I’m saying is that I had no steadiness in my life. No steady job, income, day to day structure and the like. What was the most frightening is I had no steadiness in my mental state. The drama of my family situation and the inner demons were over taking me. Things were scary for awhile. I’m lucky because I did have steady love from my family and friends.

After working a minimum wage job, summer stock, and my dream role as the Baker’s Wife I was left with no next step. No other work lined up or real plan. I wasn't sure where I wanted to live. And I was broke. Here’s a tip: always save. I’m not saying I spent money on frivolous things. I did not do that. But the debt I accrued from being in school was always on my mind. Every. Day. So the minute I got paid I put ALL OF IT towards paying off my school loans. So in the end I had nothing for living expenses. I tried to figure something out. To get a job quickly. Here’s another tip: If you have a degree of any kind lie on your job applications. If you’re trying to get a day job and you have a masters or bachelor’s: lie. After much lamenting and wrestling with myself, I ended up in the Orange County government offices.

I sat in a dingy, plastic chair filling out paper work for food stamps.

This may not seem like a huge deal to a lot of people but it was one the most difficult, heart wrenching things I’ve ever done. I felt ashamed. I felt that I had let generations of my family down. I felt low. My eyes fill up writing this let alone living it.

A little history first. My parents were the first people to go to college on both sides of my family. Both worked all the way through their undergrad and put themselves through school. Their families were more than proud of them. They worked to get their masters while working full time teaching jobs and raising my brother. This was in my head while I sat in the waiting room.

The other memory and spirit throbbing in my head and heart was my grandmother. If you know me, you know her. I spent every Friday with her and learned a great deal of my life lessons and strength from her. She was one of nine children and lived through the great depression. She was sent away at 13 to work as a companion to a nice, rich older lady. She never finished school and it was her greatest sadness. She always strove to learn and teach herself. She taught me to appreciate my education.

My granny always prided herself on the fact that she never took government assistance. She worked in the fields, at a makeup counter, eventually owned a health food store, worked in departments stores; her life story could be measured and time lined by the jobs she had. She lived in shacks, other people’s homes, and a studio that had no bathroom so she had to use the gas station bathroom next door to freshen up.

I am only scratching the surface of her life. I don’t mean for this blog to be about her hardships. She would not want me to write about them. But all of these harsh facts about her life were flooding through me as I filled out my lengthy application for government assistance.

In a room where I was the only white person and I’m making a non kosher guess, that I was the only person there with a higher education. As I felt the weight of my family history in my chest and on my shoulders I began to crumble in that room. As much as I didn’t want to I began to cry. Silently tears rolled down my face as I thought of all my family members who worked so hard to make my chances better than theirs. And what had I done with all of the opportunities I had been given?

As one of my favorite childhood movies Milo and Otis played on the screens, I looked around the room at the people I was with. A lot of teenagers with kids, people who didn’t speak English, people wearing dirty clothes, and a bunch of screaming babies. One of these things is not like the other.

I felt that I had failed. I wondered what was education really worth? Was it selfish of me to pursue my education in the arts when I knew the outcome would most likely mean debt? Where was God in all of this? Had I strayed from the path? Did I make incorrect choices and now my life is adrift because of it?

I may not have been the only one thinking of these things in that office. I kind of think I was but you can’t judge people from the shapes their faces are making. What I do know is that I was the most dramatic about it as no one else was crying into their papers in shame.

The wait was 2 hours long. That’s a long time to sit and blame yourself. I talked to my mom and she was the angel God put her on earth to be. She assured me that I had worked hard my whole life and I needed help, “…which is what this program is for. You’ve had a job and paid taxes since you were 15. It’s ok to ask for some of that back if you really need it. Just think of the tuition increases while you were in grad school to make you feel better.” She joked. I choked out “I love you” and hung up.

Deep in myself I know my Granny would support me and tell me she loved me. Even though this day was incredibly hard and shameful for me the good part was that I felt her close to me. I felt her in the air around me as I went through the day. So I have to give thanks for that.

After meeting with my appointed government worker and making it through the meeting with only tearing up (if the tears don’t come out it doesn’t count as crying. So say I.) I was approved and was on Food stamps for the minimum requirement of 3 months. I really am thankful because it helped me when I had absolutely no money, no hope, and thousands of dollars of student loans staring me in the face.

Until now I haven’t told anyone I was on food stamps. Not even my closest friends. I was and still am ashamed. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am. I want to stand on my own two feet. I want to put all of God’s gracious gifts including my family, friends, and opportunities such as education to good use. I’m still floundering and flailing. But I am making rent, food, gas, and student loan payments. I have several jobs. None of which are my dream job. Which can be defeating at times, but I know I will find my purpose. I have to keep working, be honest, be loving, be grateful, be thankful, and be faithful.