Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Catholic
A Game That Cannot Be Won

A Game That Cannot Be Won

Last updated on: March 3, 2017 at 12:18 am by Mary Pezzulo

A Game That Cannot Be Won 2017-03-03T00:18:46-04:00 Mary Pezzulo

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

scarf-686781_640

I went downtown, to apply for utility assistance.

The last time I called that department, they assured me that they do not take appointments anymore; they take walk-ins and walk-ins only. I wrote down their hours and all of the documentation they needed. Then I had one of my autoimmune attacks and didn’t go downtown for some time.

Winter is a very expensive time. We did very well over Christmas and in January; I felt hopeful about getting through. February was a leaner month than usual, but we made it. We rolled into March with less than we’d thought. We needed to go back on utility assistance for a little while or there’d be a crisis for the first time in ages. My husband has noticed many times that if he’s the one who talks to social workers, they disbelieve him, but if I do they treat me fairly respectfully, so I agreed to go downtown myself while he watched our daughter.

I know a thing or two about going downtown to ask for help. There’s a certain note you want to strike with your outfit: it must look cheap, or they won’t believe you’re poor. It’s not enough for your outfit to come from a thrift store, as all my clothes do; it has to look like it came from a thrift store. But it must also look clean, or they’ll think you’re on drugs. It must look modest or they’ll assume you’re a prostitute. But it can’t be so modest as to be eccentric or they’ll think you’re in a cult.

I have one such outfit, and I put it on. I slicked my hair back into a boring ponytail. I scraped together ninety days worth of pay stubs, plus birth certificates, social security cards and utility bills. I walked to the bus stop and waited fifteen minutes in the snow. I got off the bus at the station, walked three blocks through the worst neighborhood to the library, and printed off five pages of other paperwork I needed; then I realized that I didn’t have December’s pay stub. My husband found it, got Rose into her coat and walked her downtown as the snow blew harder– they couldn’t take the bus because I was using the change pouch at the library.

I walked four blocks and met him at the Community Action building. He took the change pouch and the few dollars we had left, and took Rose to the 25-cent toy section of the thrift store.

I went into the Community Action building, trying to look modest, grateful and apologetic. I took the ancient and smelly elevator to the second floor. There, the secretary informed me that they never took walk-ins. I had to make an appointment first. She gave me a fat sheet of printed instructions for all the paperwork and documentation I needed to bring to my appointment– a different list than the one I’d gotten over the phone. It required a tax return, among other things I didn’t have with me. And she herself could not sign me up for an appointment. I was required to leave the Community Action building and call their hotline.

I walked a block and a half to the public park, to get a quiet place to call the hotline. In the frigid wind I could barely hear the voice on the other end of the phone, but it turned out that the hotline consisted of an automated robot voice who required a long, detailed automated interview and would need me to loudly enunciate my confidential financial information before I was even allowed near an appointment with the utility assistance department.

I gave up.

I went to meet my family at the thrift store. I bought a decidedly eccentric, non-modest rainbow paisley scarf for a dollar, because nothing matters. I can’t be the correct kind of poor person. I was playing a game I could not possibly win.

Poverty is a full-time job and it’s completely impossible to do that job adequately. Whether you look fashionable or frumpy, dirty or clean, conventional or eccentric, you’ll be informed you’re the wrong kind of poor person and you can’t have help. You can print off every scrap of paper ever penned and you’ll still be missing one document. You can spend your whole afternoon hiking up and down the street in the cold to try to get one task accomplished, and somebody will call you lazy. If you try to get on assistance, you’re a parasite who lives on honest people’s tax dollars. If you look for work, people presume you don’t actually want the job but are applying so that you’ll qualify for assistance. If you do find a job, you constantly walk that razor-wire tightrope where if you make one dollar too much they’ll take away a hundred dollars of assistance. The limbo between having nothing at all and having enough to not need assistance is vast, and it’s rare enough that anyone will be able to cross from one end to the other.

Of course, the whole system is rigged for dependence, and of course well-meaning people want to remedy that. But they way they do it, nine times out of ten, is by making the current system of poverty and dependence as draining, painful and humiliating as possible for the poor– not by helping to create a system generous and prosperous enough that people don’t need to depend on government aid. More paperwork. More hoops to jump through. More assistance yanked away if you make one dollar too much. More people excluded from any help from the very beginning.

And I know that I’ve been extremely lucky– or blessed, or whatever term you’d like me to use. I’m a privileged person in so many ways. I’ve had all kinds of well-timed miracles, generous help from friends and a few family members, to get me this far. One month we’ll be doing fantastically, and one month we’ll barely scrape by, but so far we’ve always scraped. Plenty of my friends and neighbors could tell you far worse stories than mine. Plenty of people have no good months at all.

Still, I’m always afraid.

I’m afraid for the month when I’ll finally run out of luck.

I can never win at this game. But if I stop playing for any greater act of rebellion than a colorful thrift store scarf, what happens then?

What happens when the bill comes due?

What will we do tomorrow?

Previous Post

March 1, 2017

The First Station: Jesus is Condemned to Death

Next Post

March 3, 2017 The Second Station: Jesus Accepts His Cross

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category abortion Abuse Advent America American Christianity angel angels Annunciation Appalachia apparition apparition chaser apparition chasers apparition culture art art review babies baby baby Jesus Bad Lip Reading bad statue contest bath beauty Bible story blog blogkeeping blood book review Brandon Sanderson breastfeeding bus Catholic catholic conspiracy alarmism Catholic Oppositional Disorder Charismatic Renewal Charlie the Cat chastity Christ Christian idenitity Christianity and Judaism Chronic Illness clean clothing COD piece comedy compassion conscience conspiracy theory conversion cop-on-black violence Crucifixion cry of the poor culture Daesh Daily Saints death death penalty devotional diaconate diaper diapers dirty disability Donald Trump Dorothy Day dream drugs Eastern Catholicism Eastern Christianity education election election update Elsewhere on Patheos empathy environment Fear feminism film review fish flashback fluffy buns food Franciscan University of Steubenville Friendship Room fun Gabriel gardening gospel hair-splitting Heaven hell heresy Hillary Clinton history Holly the Witch Holy Spirit holy war Homeschooling homosexuality horror human dignity humor Icon idol immigrants infection inter-religious dialogue Interpretation of Scripture Islam Jesus Jihad Joseph joy laity and lay vocations lamb dinner laundry lent lgbtq literature love manners Mary Medicine and Science Meditation mercy mess milk misogyny Missouri monasticism monster motherhood mourn with those mourn movies movis music mystery nature neurodiversity New Pro-Life Movement news nonsense nostalgia O antiphons obituary objectification Ohio Valley Ordinary Time ordination Ordo Amoris parable paradox Passover peanut butter personal beliefs pets philosophy Planet Charismatic poetry politics polls poop Pope Francis Pope Leo power in the Church prayer prayer request prayers preferential option for non-violence president presidential election priest primary private revelation pro-life prophecy Public face of Catholicism Pure Flix Q and A race racism random rape rape. sexuality reader's request Reckoners refugee religious trauma ressurrection Right to life Saints saints and celebrations same-sex same-sex marriage satire scandal secular feasts seder Seven Joys Seven Last Words sex sexual ethics sexuality silencing six months skid row slavery social justice Speculative fiction spiritual abuse spoon stain story suffering suffrage suffragette Sunday Gospel temple Tenebrae Responsories Terror the exorcist The Friendship Room The New Pro-Life Movement Things I Learned on the Internet tin cup traffic true story tv review Uncategorized USCCB vice and temptation violence Virtue virtue and vice war Way of the Cross whimsy whole life women's ordination work of mercy Year A

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Who said: "You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's special possession"?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Moses Peter James Paul