The weather began to get cold and I hung blankets over the windows and doors. I had a fireplace in the living room and I was able to keep this one room heated to around fifty degrees. However, a venture down the hallway to the bathroom was a frigid experience that left me holding my bladder until if felt like it would burst. My parents and friends offered to let me sleep at their homes, but on freezing nights I was afraid that the pipes would burst and I would find myself in an even worse financial position. So, I stayed at my home, huddled under stacks of blankets, sleeping on the couch, stoking the fire through the night and braving the freezing house to check the water faucets every hour to ensure they had not frozen. If they had, I would have to go into the dark and even colder basement with a hairdryer and thaw out the pipes before they split open.
My life was miserable.
I learned where to get free food. I learned where to get assistance with bills… but it was never enough. I was thankful my ex had left me the house, even if he had left me nothing else. Without it, I would have been completely homeless.
It’s hard to sleep when you are cold and hungry.
A New Beginning
I was determined to go to graduate school.
After Christmas I packed up everything I had and moved to Colorado. The economy was much stronger there, and I was convinced that I would have a better life. Surely I would qualify for need-based scholarships. I would work hard and make straight A’s… so I would get a merit scholarship. I had a strong Appalachian work ethic, and like my parents, I would work any honest job.
But I did not receive a scholarship (need based nor merit based). I was unable to find a job. Professors, though giving me nothing but A’s, looked at me like I had a third eye in the center of my forehead anytime I spoke with my hillbilly twang. Fellow students were concerned graduate school was too hard for me… it did not matter that I had as much education as them. My college degree came from West Virginia, and they thought that made it less than theirs. Everyone I encountered asked where I was from. Then I was forced to endure renditions of “Country Roads” that would make Simon Cowell cringe. People mocked my accent and I found it more and more difficult to fit in with people.
Choices
Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
Graduate school was slamming its door in my face and I suddenly realized that I did not have choices. I had chosen the college I wanted to attend, but being poor I was not permitted to attend school there. I had chosen to go to graduate school, but they were making it perfectly clear that I was not welcome there.
The great American Dream tells us we can be anything we choose… but when you are poor you know that is not true. When you are poor you never have the choices you want. You want to have water and heat, but the only choice you have is to choose between water or heat. You want to have food, but the only choice you have is which food bank you visit. You want to wear nice clothes, but the only choice you have is what richer people have donated to the thrift stores. You want to live a life that is comfortable… it doesn’t have to be extravagant, it just has to be adequate, but the only choice you have is to live in misery.
This is poverty.
I feel for you.