A poem while watching my mother

Posted by Carey Fuller in Poetry - (0 Comments)

Pieces of Yesterday

Strange, this disconnect from what would otherwise be

Some kind of connection between you and me

See, I never thought the day would come

Where I would be standing here

Watching you sleep that sleep

That doesn’t know if there’ll be another tomorrow

But in the meantime

Sitting here in the quiet of dark

Old memories have sparked

Pieces of yesterday back into life

Childhood laughter, childhood tears

All those growing up fears

Are exactly where I left them

But for you I see

Uncertainty

And life simply offers no guarantees

On the time we have granted

We never seem to realize

How small some things are

Until the magnitude of a condition

Much bigger than we

Catches us off guard

And no matter how much

We wish to go back

There is no reset button

On life’s current path

And as the journeys end

Suddenly comes into view

I am looking into the future

For I am what remains of you

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An unexpected blessing

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (2 Comments)

Jeremy of Hinshaw's Honda of Auburn

 

This past Monday I had plans to do as much as I could in one of my garden plots  but the day had plans of its own! I had dropped Maggie off at school and was heading to Kent to meet a Facebook friend at Kona Kai’s coffee shop but just before I got there, the van’s engine light started to flash off and on. Soon after, it was rattling so I continued to a parking spot just outside of the coffee shop and popped the hood so that I could check the oil. It was a little low but I dreaded that oil wasn’t the problem. Not more than 2 weeks ago, I had just taken the van in to have it checked out because the engine light had come on but it wasn’t flashing. The mechanic had cleaned up some oil he had found splashed on a spark plug and replaced it. After he worked on the van that day, the engine light went off but I was advised that if that light came back on, I would need to take it to a dealership to have it checked again as it could mean a more serious problem was on the way.

After my meeting at Kona Kai’s, I decided to head towards Auburn to the Hinshaw’s Honda dealership even though I had no money to even do a diagnostic but I knew I had to get the van off the road because it was too risky to keep driving around with a flashing engine light. I parked outside the dealership’s building and just sat there wondering what and where Maggie and I were going to go if we lost our only shelter and transportation. Unless I had the money to fix the van, it would have to be parked somewhere until I did and there was no guarantee of how long it would take to earn enough money to pay for expensive repairs let alone get enough donations to help pay for everything! On top of that, the dread of getting a ticket for parking too long in the wrong place or getting the van towed was starting to kick in. While I was in the middle of thinking about all this, I saw this brother walk by with a sheet of paper in his hands but he stopped in his tracks and looked over at me. I had the door open so he asked if I needed help. I said “Oh, I’m just here to see about getting a diagnostic on what’s wrong with this van but am stressed about being stranded.” He said his name is Jeremy but if it looked as though I were to be stranded, to come find him inside the dealership and he would help me out. I nodded and Jeremy went his merry way back inside the building.

Well, doing what I do, I got on Twitter and Facebook and started talking about the van’s flashing engine light and my anxiety over what would happen next because in all honesty, I had no idea! I was planning in my head the steps I would have to take to find a safe place to be that night should worse come to worse. In about an hour and a half, enough donations had come in to pay for a diagnostic so I drove the car up to the dealership’s intake doors and walked in. I told the folks at the front desk what I suspected was happening from the last time I had to bring the van in to a mechanic and they quoted me a lower diagnostic fee than the first time I had come in. I gave them the keys to van then went and sat in a quiet corner of the lobby at a small desk that was conveniently located near an outlet so I used it to charge my phone. After an hour then 2 hours went by, I could feel a migraine coming on and I knew if they hadn’t come out after 30 minutes, something was really wrong and it was gonna be expensive to fix. I hadn’t eaten that day but I had no appetite and I was getting nauseous. That’s when Jeremy walked past me but this time he turned and sat in the chair in front of me. I knew I looked pretty haggard and that’s probably why he asked what was going on with the van.

Up until he asked that, I was holding it together but I started to cry as I talked telling him that the van was my only transportation and shelter and if we lost that, I had no idea where we were going to go or do. I had absolutely no money to fix anything! Jeremy smiled then gently asked me how many kids I had and if I was the owner of the van. I said I own the van outright and I don’t owe anything on it because it was donated to me. Jeremy kept telling me not to worry and that he was one of the managers there but he would do everything he could to help me. He had something to do but he would be right back. I just sat there staring at the wall going over and over in my head about what I had to do if it turns out nothing could be done. True to his word, Jeremy came back and asked a few questions about the van then told me he was going into the shop to see if the mechanics in there had a verdict. He then looked from side to side to see if any of his co-workers were nearby (which they weren’t) then said in a low tone, “Sis, listen, don’t worry, ok? I will help you. See, I knew there must’ve been a reason I kept getting this feeling to ask you how you were and I’m glad I did. I know what it’s like, when I lost my job a few years ago and was in school, I had to live out of my car so please, don’t worry. I promise I will do what I can to help you out. If I can get you into a new car with no money out of your pocket, would that be something you’d be interested in?” Well yeah! I didn’t have any other options! “Ok”, said Jeremy, “let me see what they say is going on with your van.”

Jeremy disappeared for a few minutes and while he was gone, I went into the women’s restroom to splash my face and let out a few sobs. Once I felt like I had regained my composure I went back to where I was sitting and sat down to wait some more. Jeremy finally came back and said it was going to be a bit longer as the mechanics were trying to figure out what was wrong with the Odyssey’s electrical system and a coil on the 6th cylinder but the bad news is that replacing those coils were expensive but they did go ahead and wash the van for me. This was definitely not the news I wanted to hear but had a feeling something big was going out on the van even though it only had 48,000 miles on it. Jeremy then said, “Come on and hang out with me for awhile, I want to show you something.” I followed Jeremy out into the lot where some new cars were and he let me drive around in one of them. Personally, I think he was just trying to lift my spirits to distract me from having a panic attack and it worked! I wasn’t expecting to get a brand new car in exchange for the van but I needed something and I needed it fast!

When we got back to the office, Jeremy asked if I needed anything or wanted a refreshment from the coffee stand. I told him I had had enough caffeine but I did grab a couple of cookies mumbling that I hadn’t eaten yet that day. While Jeremy went to his office, I sat back down to recharge my phone and after another hour had went by, the service desk guy I gave my keys to came over and told me what they thought was going on with the van. Jeremy overheard the conversation then sat down in the same seat as before. “Ok sis, we gotta get you into a better vehicle so that you don’t have to worry about paying money that you don’t have on expensive repairs and I don’t like the idea of you and your kids being stranded on the side of a road somewhere for days at a time. Let me get some more info on your van and I’ll be right back.”

I called my teen to get her little sister from school as I wasn’t going to make it to pick her up on time. Jeremy came back with a handful of car keys and motioned for me to follow him out a different door of the building to walk across the street. He showed me a Kia and a Scion and talked to me about the cars but my attention kept going to the Scion with only 23,000 miles on it that came with a warranty. I told him I’d be interested in trading for that one because the tires were brand spanking new, it was a 2010 that looked like it had just come off the assembly line! We went back into the front office only this time I sat in the other lobby and waited. Jeremy introduced me to Ron Heath and said they would be buying me something to eat while they got the Scion’s paperwork ready and filled with gas. Ron brought me some food from Taco Time and Jeremy gave me some fruit they had in their break room.

The Scion

Ron sat with me for a little while and even helped move my stuff that was in the van over to the Scion. Dang it! Just occurred to me I should’ve gotten a picture of Ron! Anyway, both Ron and Jeremy were excellent at customer service in my opinion and through the whole process, they never talked down to me in fact they were more supportive than anything else. If I could give them an award, I would! While I was sitting in the lobby, I had a chance to watch all the other staffers there and not once did I see any of them act less than professional and that tells a customer a lot! I’ve been in customer service for over 20 years and I have never seen such dedicated staff at a dealership in my life!

Now to some, dealerships are just shark tanks waiting to tank advantage of anybody who walks through the front doors and granted, there are some out there that do that but……I have to weigh my options because out here, there isn’t much wiggle room when you’re homeless. I could either keep the van and risk breaking down somewhere really inconvenient and fret about repairs I simply do not have the money to pay for or I can trade straight across for a newer car with better gas mileage and longevity. For me and my situation, trading a 2009 Honda Odyssey for a 2010 Toyota Scion was not just a better choice but a matter of meeting immediate survival needs. If I hadn’t of made the trade, I never would’ve made it to the caregiving job scheduled that night and the next day which was an opportunity to earn badly needed money!

Even as I’m writing this, I keep wondering what would’ve happened to us if Jeremy hadn’t stopped to see how I was doing. I keep wondering if me and Maggie would be sleeping on the bus right now.  Jeremy and Ron went above and beyond their job descriptions and I hope the powers that be recognize the gems they have in these two guys. I do!

Thank you Jeremy, Ron and Hinshaw’s Honda of Auburn, Washington!

 

 

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A homeless mother’s day so far….

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (2 Comments)
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This morning I managed to get Maggie up and dressed in time to get to a job orientation/training that I thought started at 9:00 am. Turned out it was actually 9:30 and I got there an hour early! I spent 5 hours watching job orientation and training videos without a break but I figure it’s worth it and a good sign I’ll be hired. While at the orientation, I got a desperate voicemail from Amanda, a 19 year old homeless mother who called me from the motel she was staying at because she has no cell phone. She said she called every place she could think of for shelter resources but had no luck. She then asked if I knew of some place she could put her 2 year old’s stuff if they ended up outside tonight. I checked my account and there is only $7 in there and my food stamps don’t reload until tomorrow. By the time I get out of this orientation and get to Kent, I have no idea where Amanda will be exactly since she has no cell phone and I have a quarter of a tank of gas left. I didn’t eat today and thanks to school meals, Maggie had breakfast and lunch.

If I’m lucky there might be some fast food gift cards at my mailbox I thought, so I drove to my new private mail box only to find an empty office suite with a sheet of paper taped to the glass saying everyone’s mail had been forwarded to the post office and thanks for 18 years of business! For a homeless person, this is major road block. I just got this mail box and had paid a year up front for it after the mail box I had in Federal Way closed down. It took over a month to come up with $150 to pay for that year in advance plus somebody to sponsor me a residential address to use because if you don’t have a residential address to put down, you can’t get a p.o. box! You have to have something sent to the residential address so that you can take that piece of mail to the p.o. box to show you have an address before they approve you for a p.o. box. The reason I use a private mail box is because when people send me packages via UPS or FedEx, they won’t send to a regular p.o. box because somebody often has to sign for the delivery.

Not having any kind of address is a major barrier for homeless people, now that mine has been taken away, what’s gonna happen when I try to apply for more jobs? I can’t leave the address section on a job application blank! Speaking of jobs, the orientation instructor said the hiring manager wanted me to call her back to see if I can come back in on Friday so they could talk about setting me up with a client so I’m thinking this means I’m hired but….and oh it’s a heavy but….now that it’s the beginning of a new month, my cell phone carrier is sending me messages to pay the monthly fee I don’t have. If you think not having an address is bad, not having a phone is worse and the race is on! I only have until the fifth before the phone goes offline….

I managed to do one load of laundry yesterday which consisted of our coats and a couple of outfits for Maggie because that’s all the money I could spare since the bulk of what I had went into the gas tank. That means we have one more day of clean laundry left. Thanks to Shaun King and Hope Mob, we have a hotel room to stay in for a week because normally right about this time, I get Maggie from school and depending on how much gas I have, we will wait for sunset at either Fred Meyer’s, McDonald’s, the library or simply in a crowded parking lot at a shopping mall or mega store. Once it’s dark and again this all depends on how much gas we have, we will drive to a rest stop for the night, or find a quiet street without a lot of traffic to spend the night. If I end up sleeping on a street, I have to take short naps or hide behind an abandoned building or foreclosed house so the cops don’t see us and try to move us out of the area.

When I got to Maggie’s school, she was sitting at a desk drinking from a carton of milk and eating a cherry turnover with the rest of her classmates. The school has these snacks thanks to the fantastic efforts put out by the Auburn Food Bank. When Maggie saw me standing in the doorway, she smiled then got a funny look on her face.  She got up from her desk and went to the snack table and brought me a carton of milk and one of the turnovers and said “Happy Birthday Mommy. I know it’s not much but I wanted you to have something.” Maggie saw her teacher and asked if it was ok to give me what she had in her hands and the teacher smiled and nodded. I had been so busy running around, I forgot what day it is today but…to be honest…I lost interest in my birthday a long time ago.

On the way back to the motel, I almost instinctively started to head towards the rest stop for the night. Usually when we get there, Maggie and I have a nightly ritual we follow that sounds like this:

“Ok Maggie, time to get in the backseat and get in your sleeping bag.” I lean back and look into the rearview mirror to see if she’s getting ready to go to “bed”. Once she’s settled into her sleeping she usually asks me to read her a story or turn on the radio to her favorite classical music station. Once she starts yawning she will say “Goodnight Mommy, I love you.” I reply “Good night Maggie, I love you too. See you in the morning!” Maggie will smile in the dark and say “See you in the morning.”

Depending on whether or not I have insomnia that night, I will fall asleep not long after Maggie does. Tonight we will be spending the night indoors at a different location only this time, our nightly ritual will include me snuggling with Maggie on a hotel bed as she falls asleep in my arms.

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Tales from the driver’s side

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (1 Comments)

I wanted to make a nice smooth video about the realities of homelessness here in Seattle but….Windows Movie Maker on this laptop is having too many problems accepting the videos I take on my video recorders so I have opted for uploading snippets on to youTube. Add to the fact that I have limited amounts of time to be on any computer and you will understand why the videos look the way they do. Maybe someday I’ll be able to make a decent mini movie but for now, this will have to do.

Enjoy!

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Hanging out in local parks

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (2 Comments)

It’s funny how while you’re on your journey through life, you end up meeting people that are willing to tell you their story. While in Auburn, I took my youngest daughter to a park and once there, Maggie befriended three red-headed children varying in ages and their mother. You mothers out there know that while your kid is playing with other kids, sooner or later conversations happen between you and other parents. Well one thing led to another and soon this now single mother told me that she was a young widow raising her kids alone. She lost her husband to cancer only a few months ago and they were just now going on outings again. She told me she’s having a rough time financially but she has a handful of relatives in the area to help her while she looks for work. If things don’t improve soon though, she has no idea what will happen to her and the kids.

I listened to her while the kids ran through giant water sprinklers because it seemed to me that it was no accident that we happened to be in the park that day. She said they do get her husband’s pension payments because he was a firefighter but they are one check away from homelessness. She told me that you really have to be grateful for every day you get because things can change on you faster than you could possibly imagine. I thanked this young mom and told her my kids and I would probably be in the area from time to time and I looked forward to meeting her again.

Not long after meeting this young family, I met another woman who was visiting Washington from Oregon. This woman was a grandmother with five beautiful grandchildren playing in a sandbox big enough for a group of adults to play in. She told me that she works for social services in Oregon and she realized first-hand how bad the homeless situation was getting there due to lack of affordable housing and not enough shelters to house everyone looking for help. She is also angry at the fact that when budget cuts come around, it seems to always be on the backs of the needy. I listened as she went down a list of all the programs being cut and laughed when she said she imagined this was happening nationally. I nodded in agreement. I told her to check out We Are Visible to see what Mark Horvath is doing to help the homeless connect via social media. I am hoping to hear from this Oregonian soon!

I managed to stop by a laundromat in Kent to see if an old friend still worked as an attendant there. I was pleased to see that she still does! “Margaret” asked if I was still homeless as it has been awhile since she saw us last. I told her I was and she shook her head. She remembered how I worked two jobs and even remembered when I couldn’t stop shaking after I had a bad igraine/seizure that put me in the emergency room one night. “Margaret” is 80 years old and social security is not enough for her to live on so she works for minimum wages at the laundromat to supplement her income. She took a liking to us and whenever she finds abandoned blankets, coats or hats, she lets us come by and pick them up.

While doing a load of laundry, I called my local DSHS office because they sent me a letter saying that although they received my paperwork for a review on food stamp and health benefits, it was denied because I missed my interview. I called 5 times to hear the automated phone systems say that all operators were busy and that I should try my call later. On the sixth try, I got to a case worker and asked why no one bothered to read the portion of paperwork I filled out that clearly says I asked for a phone interview. I have been doing phone interviews for the last several years because I don’t always have gas money to get to the local office. The case worker said they no longer look at that and I mentioned that every time I have to deal with this office there’s a problem. The last time I filled out paperwork to keep my benefits going, the woman I spoke too told me that my case was updated. A doctor’s bill came back to me as having been denied by my health coverage because we had no eligibility. After several attempts to get a live person on the phone, another caseworker pulled my file to discover the last one did not follow through on updating my file so we had the privilege of waiting a week to buy food. I can tell you worse experiences I’ve had with DSHS that I should’ve been able to sue for on grounds of gross negligence but guess what? You can’t sue them because it’s in their contract that they can’t be sued even if they cause a major impact on your life. I was able to get my file updated today but….I will be calling back July 2nd to double check. I have learned that high case loads and the state not hiring more workers has led to a “haste instead of accuracy” pace behind the scenes to make production numbers look good to upper management. Due to budget cuts, some benefits on our health coverage have been eliminated and the hours of operation have changed as well. Try getting a hold of someone on a Friday….

When lunch time rolled around, Maggie and I went to a local grocery store with a deli in it that had microwaves. Maggie chose a corn dog for lunch happened to only be $2.00. I picked out a cheap fried chicken entree that happened to be on sale for $1.00! Add to that two bottled drinks and we paid $6.00 total for the two of us!

 

 

 

I went on the internet here at the library to look at job postings….ha ha ha ha haaa! After I recovered, I moved more stuff from my storage unit to my friend’s place in Fremont as I plan on having a big yard sale starting on Friday. Advertising it on Craig’s list is a no-brainer since it’s free! I have until the end of the month to get rid of my storage unit as the manager of the property said I only need to give two day’s notice that I won’t be  needing it otherwise they’ll charge me $120.00.

I can honestly say that there hasn’t been a day yet where I haven’t met folks who weren’t affected by the recession this country is still stuck in. Even so, it doesn’t dampen my spirits much. Sometimes, having it rough can be a blessing in disguise. For one thing, it toughens you to hardship as long as you don’t give up. Yes, there are times when we cry because of our situation but my kids have amazed me more than once. Maggie told me last night that even though we live in a van, she’s glad that we are together. Even my testy teenager wonders how it is that I didn’t give them up at the first sign of trouble. Well, here’s my philosophy on that….Just because times get rough doesn’t mean I give up on keeping my family together. The “system” will tear families apart simply because the support structure is faulty in the first place and too often, I’ve seen it cause more problems that it solved. Gross mismanagement of funds for the needy at the federal level cause exponential hardships for many and because of that, all the public sees is a waste of money. Negative images fuel voters to support politicians who are in favor of stripping or eliminating social services. What would happen if the poor had powerful lobbyists of their own?

On the positive side of things, I am truly amazed at the emails I get from folks telling me how glad they are that I have shared my experiences with them. I figure by being public about a growing tragedy in this country that can be prevented (but isn’t), it will help others to see that homelessness isn’t some communicable terminal disease. If you land in it, don’t give up, there is a community out here to help you stay positive and connected.

It’s called We Are Visible and I hope to see you all there!

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The gods were testing me…..

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (1 Comments)

While trying to down size my storage unit, I’ve been taking stuff to a friend’s house in Fremont to sell at weekend yard sales. On the way back from one of those trips, I noticed my front tires making funny wobbling sounds. At first I thought I was getting a flat but when I pulled over to check, I noticed they weren’t flat but the treads were looking really bad. I made it to Enumclaw to a friend’s house but it was after seven in the evening so I had to wait till morning to call around for replacement tires.

In the meantime, my thoughts were racing to how I was going to pay for all this. Although I keep applying for jobs, I still haven’t landed one yet. Child support only comes in for one of my daughters but that only amounts to $150.00 a month. I got an opportunity to help a vendor in August but that’s still a couple of months away. In the meantime, I’m selling off what I can out of my storage unit as it costs me $120.00 a month to keep and I need
all the money I can get at this point. The car gods, I thought, are testing me….

I decided to get on Twitter and mention that I needed two tires for the mini-van. Before I knew it, some kind folks donated towards the tire fund but I still had no idea how much it was all going to cost. At eight this morning, I called around and found a tire shop nearby that quoted over the phone that used tires will cost around $86.00-$88.00 each. I verified the address of his shop which, thank goodness, was only about a mile away. The donations I received came to $191.00. When I got to the tire shop, one of the guys there came out and said he was the one I spoke to over the phone. He took a look at my tires and said that he didn’t have any used ones but he had two new ones but they would cost $97.00 each. Crap! I only had the $191.00 plus the $20 dollar bill in my pocket that I was going to put in the gas tank.

While all kinds of thoughts were running through my head, my youngest daughter took a seat on the nearby curb. I told the guy that we live out of the van and without those tires, we were gonna be stuck. I could tell he was thinking hard. He said “I tell you what, I’ll do what I can to keep the bill from going over $200.00.” I asked the guy how long it would take to replace the wheels and he said about a half hour to forty-five minutes. While he worked on the tires, my daughter and I walked across the street to the grocery store for breakfast. There were fast food places nearby but they don’t take food stamps.

Homeless tip: If you are homeless or living out of your vehicle and have food stamps or a limited budget to buy food, look for grocery store chains with deli kitchens in them. Some of them have microwaves for public use near the seating areas. I clip coupons for frozen dinners or plan my budget around store sales on frozen meals. Also, many delis will mark the food in the cases down to 50% off about a half hour to an hour before they clean out their display cases for the night. When I had cash, I’d wait till 7:30 pm and grab a box of fried chicken for $4.00 compared to the $8.00 the store deli normally charged. You can’t buy hot foods on food stamps so I often peruse the “cold” deli items in nearby bins then head over to the microwaves after I paid for my items. Doing this stretches my food budget so I have enough left over by the time the EBT card resets the next month.

After my daughter and I finished our breakfasts, we walked back over to the tire shop. I met the guy who worked on the mini-van in the front office and was surprised to find out he was also the owner. He smiled at us and said “Hon, I got good news for you. I was able to keep the bill under $200.00.” The total charges for two new tires plus tax came to exactly $190.08!!! Thank you Enumclaw Tire Shop! I told the shop owner that I am telling all my friends about them! The owner chuckled and thanked us for the business.

I know the car gods aren’t done with me yet as the mini-van will need regular maintenance and repairs every now and then. All I can do right now though is keep trying to get a regular income to be able to head off major repairs that are expensive. Because summertime means no school, I can’t afford full time childcare for my youngest. Childcare always goes up in the summer for parents because even though they still have to work, when school’s out, the bill goes from part-time care to full-time care which devastates many household budgets. When I worked two jobs, one of those jobs was to pay for childcare only!

Whenever car troubles happen and I’m strapped for cash, I could very easily slip into an anxiety attack but I always have to remind myself to think with a clear head. Panicking only makes things worse. I’ve already gone through using up a car to the point that the only option left was to run it into the ground to keep my job but resulted in donating it later to the junkyard simply because I did not have enough money left over to pay for repairs. Single om’s without vehicles spend a lot of time on public transportation that they’d rather be spending with their kids. When I didn’t have a car, I spent two hours on buses to get to work, another hour getting to my childcare provider, and then another two hours riding the bus back home with  the kids. 5 hours every day on the bus because taxi’s are out of the question unless it’s an emergency and there was nobody for me to carpool with or get my   to daycare.  I ended up spending  more money on bus fare than I would have if I had had my own car. I can’t even afford to take light rail because here in Seattle, the system isn’t cost  efficient for my situation and without my mini-van, things for me and my girls  would be much, much worse.

Tomorrow begins a new day and a new set of trials I’m sure but I am waiting..and I’m ready to greet them head on!

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Crowds in faces…..

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (3 Comments)

Going to New York is always an interesting experience and for me, going to the 140 Conference gave me a lot of memories and some things to think about that never occurred to me until I listened to folks from all over the world talk about how they use social media. Even more surprising were the folks who greeted me before and after being on stage. For me, it was almost surreal.

I enjoyed finally meeting Stephanie Brandt, especially since her story is very much the reality of homeless parenting in New York. My mind keeps drifting to questions like, what will she do since New York discontinued homeless programs without any plans of replacing them? Why do people look away at hard truths all around them? I know for a fact that New York isn’t the only place where this kind of attitude exists. Maybe some people are reluctant to face the reality of who the homeless are simply because with knowledge comes responsibility. Then there are those who know what’s going on but choose to do nothing anyway.

I know my voice isn’t the only one out there when it comes to advocating for basic human rights and the dignity of being treated like a human being regardless of race, income, beliefs and yes, whether or not you have housing. All too often, it is not a good idea to let an employer or potential employer find out you’re homeless. I’ve been turned down for employment once an employer found out and even when I was on a job, friendly supervisors advised me to keep it a secret from corporate as it is often viewed as “bad for business” somehow. Still, I haven’t given up hope in finding a job and if I can’t get employed then my only alternative is to create my own opportunity by turning myself into my own franchise so to speak. I may not know how to do that just yet but I’m a fast learner and one way or another, I will make it!

If you watched the video feed while I was on stage, you might have noticed that in the middle of my speechifying, my voice cracked. I don’t why exactly but it was at that moment a sudden realization came over me while I was talking. If it hadn’t been for Jeff Pulver and Mark Horvath, I wouldn’t be here talking to a crowd about being a homeless mother and how social media helps me get my story out. When I first decided to “come out” about being a homeless mother, I didn’t know at the time how I was going to go about getting my message out to the masses but I felt that one way or another, I would find a way. To my surprise it happened through a chance meeting with Mark. I’ll say this about Mr. Pulver, he certainly likes to hug! In my mind he is definitely Sir Hugs-a-lot! His ability to reach out like that showed me how committed he is to making this a human experience more than anything. Thanks Jeff! Thanks Mark!

I’ll let you in a secret….I was apprehensive about letting the world know my situation since our society ingrains in us a warped tendency to pretend things are better than what they are. But then I got to thinking about how no matter how hard I worked, I still couldn’t get ahead due to the politics of poverty and the sheer ignorance of friends and family who had preconceived notions about homelessness. Maybe there were other people out there, other mothers living as I was who needed to  know they weren’t alone. Maybe folks new to homelessness are in shock because they don’t know what to do or how to go about surviving while living in their cars. Maybe….I shouldn’t be afraid to reach out to them.

When I walked off stage, to my surprise a woman met up with me just outside of the stage doors. She told me how she thought I was so brave and as we talked, I told her about how many jobs I applied for but never heard back from the companies. Usually that happens because so many people apply for one job and for recruiters, they can only look at the first resumes received. The rest are never even looked at. To my surprise she slipped something into my hand and whispered to me to promise her that I would use what she gave me to buy something nice for myself. I told her she didn’t have to do this but she insisted so I gave my word.

When I left Seattle, my girls were a little apprehensive about what I was doing and my teenager still isn’t sure about what I do. For one thing, her self esteem (like any other teen) is heavily influenced by peer pressure. She worries about how she looks and being openly public about being homeless doesn’t exactly thrill her. As for my youngest, our situation is “normal” because she can’t recall a time we didn’t live on 4 wheels. For me as a parent, I worry that several more years will go by and I’ll still be homeless. My teen will have spent the majority of her life being homeless by the time she’s 18. How can I give my kids confidence that things will get better if I’m not sure sometimes that they will? Reading about where cutbacks are being made at the expense of the less fortunate does little to reassure anyone.

When I got back into Seattle, I told my girls about a woman named Laura who took a cab to the conference to meet Stephanie and I. She told us how our stories touched her and because of that, she had to come by with a gift. She handed each of an envelope with some money inside. She said she knew it wasn’t much but she wanted to do what she could to help. I was able to get my girls souvenir T-shirts and they were surprised because they weren’t expecting anything. My teen loves her shirt and my youngest thinks hers is “really cool.” That one act of random generosity really moved me. Even more touching was the fact that she offered to help Stephanie the next day to go shopping for things like diapers for her son. I could tell by the look on Stephanie’s face that she was touched by this woman’s offer to help. For Stephanie, having someone help her to get diapers for her son was a godsend.

Fast forwarding to when I got off the plane from New York……

I had a promise to keep to the beautiful woman back in New York to buy something special for myself. “Something special” can mean different things to different people and it wasn’t until yesterday that I figured out what the “special something” would be for me. See, my kids remembered how I used to take time out on weekends for “just us” time. They remember when I worked two jobs even while living out of an old Winnebago and how I wasn’t around as much as they wanted me to be. Even if I didn’t have money, whenever I got a day off, I would take them for a picnic at the park or to the beach in summer. In winter, we would go to a movie or find a decent inexpensive motel to spend the night in. They also enjoyed going camping in the Cascades, something we haven’t been able to do for several years now. Now this may not seem like much but there’s a restaurant chain we used to go to called The Country Buffet. It’s an all you can eat place a lot of families go to but if you don’t have the money, you don’t go. I asked my kids if they’d like to go there for dinner and they were quiet for a moment. How many times have they asked in the past only to hear that there was no money to go out to eat? I reassured them that this wasn’t a cruel joke and their faces lit up.

I spent dinnertime watching them go through buffet lines picking out everything they wanted to eat. My youngest was so excited to be able to get whatever dessert she wanted. I got to listen to my teen talk about things she wanted to do and her plans to earn money with one of her friends from school. We also talked about a plan of action to help manage her bouts of depression and academic goals to get her to where she wants to be later in life. There are no words to describe the look on your kid’s face when you reassure them that no matter what you’re doing in life, they are still very much a priority. Sometimes we as adults forget how the world looks through a child’s eyes and for my kids, too much time spent away from them begins to look like they’re being left behind.

Time to do nothing but just be with my kids and letting them tell me about their world is a luxury I don’t get very often, especially while working long hours for little or no pay. Risa, the gift you gave me was worth more than what was printed on paper but I did get myself an interesting little bottle of perfume I saw in a local drugstore on Lexington. Never in my life have I seen perfume designed to smell like every day scents like grass, dirt or clean laundry. Kind of reminded me of those every flavor jelly beans from Harry Potter so I bought one! Now I can have the fresh scent of clean laundry wherever I go!

The folks I met in New York left me with good memories and some ideas for some projects that I’ve been thinking about doing for awhile now. You just never know where life takes you or who you’ll meet so don’t ever give up on your life, no matter how rough things get.

The following poem was inspired from the view outside my hotel window and from watching people milling about in Times Square:

Crowds in faces

 

Dirty street, busy street, so many faces

Here, there and everywhere

Exactly where are they all going?

 

City lights, not so bright

Dirty streets to highlight

There’s always some place to be

Even when no place wants you

 

People lining up on Broadway

To see their favorite show

Out on the street everyone bows

To the scenes life plays out

 

Connected in their disconnects

I wonder if they know

There’s no logic in being blind

To a city full of woes

 

People on the streets asking for change

The pennies in a paper cup

Rattle with poverty’s rage

The poor daily will sip

 

See the dullness in their eyes

Shine with asphalt grey

Doesn’t matter who they are

As long as it isn’t you today

 

Faces in the crowd reflecting

We are they

And they are we

Together is how we ought to be

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A little too real

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (1 Comments)

Two days ago I submitted my story to a single mother’s group online because they had advertised that they were looking for real stories from single mothers. I of course submitted the following:

“I am still a mother

I’m not that kind of person you often hear about. I’m neither an addict nor a mental health patient. I don’t smoke and I don’t drink. I don’t sleep around and I’m not lazy. I’m not a high school drop out and have never been a pregnant teen. I’m not a quitter, a liar or a thief.

I am a homeless mother.

In April of 2004, when I no longer had a job and used up my savings and monies from my 401K plan, I bought a used 1981 Minnie Winnebago with my tax refund and moved my nine year old and one and half year old into it. Here in Seattle, there’s no such thing as Section 8 for help with housing as our state has been closed to applications for years now. I called shelter after shelter only to be turned away because more people than ever are using them and there aren’t enough built to handle the scores of people entering homelessness. I met with our local welfare office, the last place I wanted to visit, and was told by the social worker that they couldn’t do anything to stop us from being omeless but if I wanted to sell our only shelter and transportation, I could qualify for $400.00 a month in cash. I was then given a food stamp card and sent on my way. I prayed child support for my eldest would show up but to
this day it hasn’t.

For the first several months in our new “home”, I quickly learned just how “as is” the Minnie Winnie was as I read the owner’s manual to figure out what worked and what didn’t. I learned by surprise that the master cylinder on the
brakes needed to be replaced when I went down a hill and couldn’t stop. I learned how to replace an alternator on my own. I paid to have the brakes, generator, voltage regulator, and tires replaced. My plan was to make the Winnebago as safe and livable as possible while trying to get another job and hopefully save enough money to get our lives back. Maybe it would only be a temporary situation lasting a year or two I thought.

In the meantime I worked various jobs through temp agencies, never telling my employers about my living arrangements and definitely never telling them that I was working two jobs every time I got the chance. One day though, my body caught up with me. I happened to be working at a financial services company during the day and had just clocked out. As I headed to the elevators, my peripheral vision started getting watery and a supervisor walking by caught me by the arm and asked if I was alright. I didn’t even realize I was sliding down the wall but I shook it off and told her I would be fine. I didn’t say I say I had to be since I couldn’t afford to be late to the next job.

I made it out to the far end of the parking lot since that was where I always put the RV.  I was on my way to my babysitter’s house but halfway there, I felt the left side of my face, then arm go numb. I almost panicked because I was thinking I might be having a stroke or heart attack. I told myself to stay calm and find a place to pull over in case I cause an accident. I remembered a garage nearby that my babysitter’s husband had told me about since the owner was a friend of his. By the time I reached the garage, I was vomiting and couldn’t move my left arm. I could barely stand up and my speech was slurred but I managed to get the mechanic to call my babysitter. Her husband rushed over and took me to the nearest hospital. At first I wasn’t going to go since I had no insurance and knew the hospital wasn’t going to be cheap but my babysitter’s husband made me go anyway. The hospital kept me for observation for about six hours before letting me go. I don’t remember anything else after that except that a few days later I woke up in my babysitter’s room with her holding a cup of water to my mouth. My head was pounding and all I wanted to do was vomit. My face felt numb and for some reason my motor skills were really shaky. My head kept shaking and I could barely talk. All I could think about was the RV getting towed so I tried to sit up but my babysitter pushed me back down and said her husband had talked to the owner of the garage so it was ok to be there until I got back on my feet.

The next day I made myself get up and walk around because I didn’t want to get my babysitter’s family in trouble with their apartment landlord’s who didn’t like me driving the Winnebago through the complex when I came to pick my kids up. Even though my babysitter and her husband wanted me to stay for awhile, I went back to the RV because I didn’t want to be an inconvenience to them. Needless to say I couldn’t work when I could barely walk or keep my head from shaking side to side. The hospital referred me to a local neurologist to find out why I got paralysis with a major migraine. It took me about 10 days or so to recover from whatever this was and I did that by sleeping in the RV at parks during the time my eldest was in school and my youngest was with the babysitter. Eventually I lost the temp job I had and once again found myself looking for work.

In the meantime, the RV needed gas to keep us moving since police harassment is an everyday concern when you live out of your vehicle. I went to local plasma centers to sell my blood for gas money.  About 8 months went by before I landed a part-time position at a local newspaper. I couldn’t afford daycare so working the graveyard shift was perfect. The newspaper plant was located in a rural area and had a well lit parking lot. I parked the RV where I could see it from the warehouse windows since my kids slept in the upper bunk while I worked. My shift ended early enough that I had time to get them breakfast and ready for school. Because my eldest was embarrassed to be in a motor home, I would drop her off around the block from her school so that she could walk in without any of her friends seeing her get out of a Winnebago every morning.

I spent the days scanning want ads for a full-time day job as it soon became apparent with the gas hikes that I would again need two jobs to survive. I took my toddler to the parks and hung out with her in public libraries when the weather wasn’t so great. When it was time for dinner, I asked my eldest how her day went and reassured her that everything would be alright and this is only a temporary situation for us. All the consoling I did couldn’t keep her from feeling angry and depressed. She asked why our relatives weren’t helping and how could the government let us live like this? Why wasn’t anybody helping us?

We met some interesting folks living out here and I was surprised to meet other families doing exactly what we were doing. At a Wal-Mart parking lot, we met a family that had come down from Alaska looking for work. They too were living out of motor home but smaller than ours. I was impressed since my Minnie was only 21 feet long, bumper to bumper. When my eldest daughter saw that she wasn’t the only kid living this way, she felt a little better but struggled with the fact that we had no permanency. We also met another single mother living out of class “A” motor home the size of a bus and she told me how she raised both her boys out of it. She was close to retirement and her youngest son at the time was about 19 years old. They worked every day the way I did and saved what they could but the last time I saw them, she was still living out of her motor home. It was through this community of folks living out of motor homes and their cars that I learned where I could park for the night and where the rest stops were that had dumping stations for free. Some camp grounds only charged $5.00 to dump the sewage tanks on RV’s plus I could refill my water tank. The “community” also looked out for us by telling me what places were dangerous to be in and which neighborhoods had a lot of police harassment going on. It didn’t take long to learn how to be “invisible”.

In October of 2006, I landed a full-time day job with another national financial services company and was able to find daycare through a co-worker I befriended at the newspaper job. To this day we call her “Cousin Pam” because she went out of her way to treat us like family. She helped me to get my kids enrolled in the school district next to her house since my kids would be there all day. She told me about sales at local thrift stores to help us with school clothes and she enrolled my kids in programs that helped with school supplies and summer time free lunch programs. If it hadn’t been for “Cousin Pam”, I have no idea how I would’ve worked the day job we so desperately needed. It was a good thing I had that day job because a few months after I got it, the newspaper went out of business. My day job paid twice as much but I still could not save any money. All I could do was maintain living out of the Winnebago since it needed regular maintenance and the gas alone was eating whatever I could’ve saved.

I had been at my day job for over a year when an old complaint returned with a vengeance. This time, the migraine attacks were becoming more frequent and the shakiness had returned. I had bouts of numbness on the left side of my body and didn’t understand why these symptoms were coming back. I took advantage of my employer paid health insurance and went to specialists to figure out what was wrong with me.  At first they thought I had the beginnings of
Meniere ’s disease but extensive testing ruled that out. It wasn’t until a year ago that my doctor figured out I had hemiplegic migraines. I had one big attack that left me in serious trouble. I had to go to physical therapy to be able to
walk a straight line without falling due to vertigo that just would not go away. It took eighteen months to recover and needless to say, I exhausted FMLA and lost my job. I even tried to reapply to the same company only to never hear
from them again.

I could’ve given up and ended my life. I could’ve sunk into despair and hopelessness. I could’ve turned to prostitution, drugs, alcohol or violence. But I didn’t and continue to refuse going down that path because that’s not the kind of example I want my kids to see. When everything seemed hopeless I did the only thing I knew how to do; write. I sat behind the steering wheel of the Winnebago and poured all my feelings and thoughts onto paper. To keep my oldest daughter from sinking into depression, I wrote a book to keep her mind occupied on something other than being homeless.

It was through writing to an editor from Change.org that I got connected with a man named Mark Horvath. Thanks to him I’ve had the opportunity to share my story with more people than I ever thought possible. I felt honored when he asked me to manage We Are Visible which is an online community that helps the homeless connect through social media on the internet. I am still connecting with other people, have been on radio programs, have seen my writings on more sites than I can count and I am always amazed at how one story can impact so many other people. I am still homeless. I am still fighting for a better life and doing what I can to help other single mother’s out there keep their hopes alive.

I am not that stereotypical “bum” on a sidewalk corner asking for spare change. I am not that drunk lying on filth in an open alleyway. I am not a “welfare queen”. I am not asking to be pitied or handed a lifestyle. I am not less of a human being because of homelessness.

I am still a mother.”

The interesting thing about this site is that so far, they’veposted many stories but conveniently have skipped over mine. In all honestly, it’s exactly what I expected. I don’t take it personally because this isn’t the first time my story has been “overlooked”. There were times I joined in online conversations designed for single mothers but whenever I commented about my situation, it was if the room suddenly went quiet.

I am after all…a little too real.

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Getting by….

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness | Uncategorized - (2 Comments)

I recently read an article about getting by on $200.00 a month in food stamps. The author of the article is not homeless and not on any kind of state assistance so for her, this was a “challenging” experiment. For the thousands of homeless families and individuals who know what it is to live on less with no apparent end in sight, this is not a casual experiment but a living nightmare yet policy makers continue to make cutbacks to programs that are needed more than ever. Why? In a country that touts being a wealthy developed nation, why is giving the wealthy tax breaks more important than feeding the masses?

From the article, the author goes on to say that this was indeed a learning experience. For one thing she couldn’t shop at places like Whole Foods or where she usually shops. Of course not! Those places are expensive and when living on a budget, you make as many concessions as you can! Visiting food banks is something many of us have to do even with food stamps. Let me ask the reader this, have you ever visited a food bank? If so, did you notice a lack of healthy options such as fresh fruits and vegetables? Did you see a lot of cheap foods like Ramen, macaroni & cheese, bread, canned foods? I have only seen two food banks in my area that offer fresh produce donated from a farm with
surplus and only when in season. Not to offend anyone but for those who assume that people on food stamps are all overweight due to laziness, think again!

Here’s another tidbit of info that goes hand in hand with the topic of the food stamp program. JP Morgan profits from the food stamp program: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zf8v7RYk6Y

Not only that, Chase charges more in fees to recipients of welfare more than they do regular customers:http://www.realchangenews.org/index.php/site/archives/5597/

From my own experience I can tell you that with careful budgeting, occasional visits to the food banks and growing my own veggies in a community pea patch all help towards managing starvation but even then, that doesn’t always work. If I find myself in a neighborhood that doesn’t have many options outside of expensive convenience stores and a lack of food banks in the area or the food bank shutting down due to lack of donations, I will skip meals so that my kids won’t have to. That’s the reality of dwindling programs due to budget cuts that aren’t directly affecting policy makers willing to slash budgets at the expense of those who need them the most.

So you want a challenging experience? Go out and deliberately live homeless for a minimum of two weeks so that you can see firsthand just how little you can get by on. I guarantee it will be a real eye opener…..

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A Mother’s Day Reflection

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness - (2 Comments)

I woke up this morning with my seven year old grinning at me. She said “Happy Mother’s Day Mommy!” and handed me a homemade paper Chinese take-out box filled with crepe-paper flowers she made at school for me. I gave her a hug and a kiss and thanked her for her gift. Mother’s Day for me is a holiday I see with mixed emotions. Most of us are familiar with the scene of a mother surrounded by flowers and gifts from her family, sometimes with grandma included!

Today though, a very different image is emerging and it is far removed from a Hallmark greeting card holiday. According to the U.S. Census Bureau’s latest statistics, 1 in 4 mothers in America lives in poverty but what the Census does not tell you is that the government made poverty worse when the Personal Responsibility and Work Reconciliation Act was enacted in 1996 and again in 2006.This act ended the government’s obligation to provide minimum support to impoverished single heads of households, i.e., single parents.

Changes or “reforms” to welfare programs do little to help women out of poverty. Having a healthy economy with living wage jobs do that! Out
of all the industrialized nations on earth, the U.S. has the highest rates of poverty and much of this is due to focusing on profitability. In case you haven’t noticed, corporate America panders to the middle and upper class segment of society because they can afford to support a system designed to maximize profits for the already wealthy. For a single mother or father, the situation is worse.

Here’s an example given by Samantha Johnson in a piece she wrote called “Poverty, Single Mothers and the Working Poor”:
“A single mother with two children, in Oregon, qualifies for a maximum of just under $800.00 per month in cash assistance. Assuming a single
mother has food stamps, she is able to buy groceries. The $800.00 in cash assistance- which comes from a federal program called TANF (Temporary Assistance for Needy Families) would then be allocated to living expenses, rent, utilities, child care, etc. That amount of money is not enough to pay for basic necessities, and it’s only available for a maximum of 5 years. In the 1990′s, President Clinton put a limit on the amount of time a family can be on TANF when he reformed the welfare system. Once you’ve been on it for 5 years, you can never get the assistance again. A single mother receiving welfare is put in a position where she can either live on welfare until it expires, or she can attempt to better her life chances with an education. If she attempts to get educated, her welfare programs will be cut. If she attempts to find a job,
her welfare programs will be cut. The institutions put in place to “help” the working poor and single parents are the same institutions
that contribute to the amount of poverty in the US because they limit the ability of the poor to better themselves economically. These institutions are also responsible for demonizing the poor, particularly poor single mothers, and use the person blame approach. The institutions in government that are supposed to help single mothers only exacerbate the situation with bureaucracy and rules
that bind the individual to the program so it’s near impossible to achieve desirable social status or a college education. The only way one could do that, and still receive welfare benefits, is to lie.”

Even in a strong economy, the poverty rate among single mother families did not improve. A study done in 2001 by the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities showed that the assumption of moving mothers from welfare to work didn’t have the impact on poverty policy makers thought it would. Why? Because any increased earnings a mother makes is automatically offset by the declining safety net programs the government used to provide. For the folks who remained poor, the system pushed them further into poverty. I find it odd that people will ask how much it costs our nation to help single mothers in poverty yet do not ask what it will cost if we don’t.

For mothers living in poverty due to no familial support, lack of child support, loss of a job or health, I salute you for doing all that you can to take care of your children in an economy that does not support you.  Being in survival mode for extended periods of time while living in an emergency status is not easy and is more draining than you are given credit for yet you do it anyway for the sake of your kids. Please don’t lose hope and don’t give up. If we all stand together, we will make it through this.

I wish you all a Happy Mother’s Day regardless!

 

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