Today is April 19, 2012 and it is presently 9:21 a.m. Here I am laying on the floor (I have no furniture) of my sparse efficiency apartment located in the heart of Dallas..I am oddly at peace with myself this morning. For the past couple of days I have faced a little bit of depression from my most recent layoff at my job. I was actually terminated but I will call it a layoff. Why? Because suddenly 8 people around me (including my manager, and oh yeah.. the Director too) were fired and as the seats started to become more and more empty around me I cleaned my desk in anticipation of what I knew was coming. Then I was suddenly fired too. Seems to be the way it is here in Texas. I worked as a contractor for a large telecommunications company. My previous job before that position was also as a contractor. I was fired from there too. Same way however. Everyone started to get fired around me. I cleaned my desk that time too. And suddenly I was among those looking for work. That company gave everyone unemployment though. They did not fight it. I have long since put two and two together and now I realize that there is no intention by most of these companies to even try and retain their employees. Every 7 to 8 months they go through and terminate everyone. I have a suspicion that they are doing that because the Government...yep.. Good Ol' Uncle Sam... In trying to persuade businesses to hire by creating these "New Hire Tax Credits".. have simply given businesses a financial incentive to "hire and fire" over and over repeatedly. Seems like the massive tax credits make it worthwhile to shed their workforce to the point they don't even want to or need to fight unemployment.
Oh well, all the better for me as the employer was a crappy one and worked us like Hebrew Slaves the entire time I was there. Fortunately for me I've made up my mind to no longer solicit or apply for contract or temporary positions. Either I am hired permanent or not hired at all.
But back to the reasons I wanted to write this blog.. Which is my experience living two years in a homeless shelter. I was laid off my job in another state. I had a nice home. A very comfortable life. I always thought that my college education would be all I needed to make it. I was smart. Hard working. Willing to do what it took to get ahead. To succeed. Suddenly, in 2007, the bottom fell out of the economy and I found myself, along with many others in this country, amongst the legions of unemployed. My mortgage was around $900.00. and the unemployment was a little more than $200.00 per week. I was fucked. And I knew it. So I did the only thing I could which was apply for foodstamps. I could not qualify for food aid. Why? Well, the Human Services worker told me I was $5.00 over the maximum allowable to get aid with my unemployment. I was incredulous. I looked at her and asked where would I get food. She looked at me and said "Go to a food bank".. Yeah.. I know..Unbelievable.
So I called up to a local food bank and they informed me that I would get a small bag of rice, one can of tuna, a pack of crackers, one jar of peanut butter, a loaf of bread, and a box of pasta. I asked worker how long was that suppose to last me. She said "one month".. ONE MONTH!?
This was in George Bush's America.. Not President Obama's.. This was in 2007.
I was able to find work at a local factory. We had to stand in line to get in the door. Early. It was cold at this time. Very cold. People would show up two hours early to try and get a place in line and ensure they could get into the factory. We were not guaranteed hours, the work was hard and tiring and we only made minimum wage. But at least that was something. Until I could no longer afford the gas to drive out there. It was simply too far. By this time my lights were turned off so I had no choice but to resort to stealing electricity. This was especially difficult for me because of where I lived which was in a very good neighborhood with a lot of nosey white neighbors. I had long ago picked the lock on my utility box and an aquaintance from work at the factory had informed me that the electric meter had two prongs attached to it and it would slip out if you yanked it like a cork in a bottle. So the day my lights were turned off, I went outside that evening with my flashlight and opened the box. I gripped the large round front of the meter and yanked. Nothing happened. Out of desperation I yanked again and out it came. I saw that two small plastic sheaths were placed on the back of the meter and I immediately took them off. Whala! To my amazement all of my power was immediately back on. I knew that the electric company came by near the end of every month and I gaged the time to go back outside and insert the two plastic sheaths on the metal prongs.
Soon after this I ran out of food. Then money. I sold my car. Even though I did not own the car. The title loan company had long ago had my title. But I had a duplicate. I placed an ad and I was given a call by a rather elderly gentleman on the southside of town (aka the ghetto). He lived in a neighborhood where I knew I would have to be careful. He mentioned to me that he wanted the car for his grandson and he really wanted to see the car. He told me he had cash in hand and to bring the title. He gave me his address and I headed out his way. Once there at the local convenience store in a black and seedy area of town I called him. He told me he was walking not to far from there and asked if I could meet him on ---- street. I said ok. I could. As I drove to that street a very uncomfortable feeling came over me. It was in a basically abandoned side of town. No cars. No people. Abandoned and closed down buildings. And then I saw him. Or should I say "them". Two guys, in their mid to late 20's walking towards me. And they both looked haggard. Like stragglers. I had the impulse to take off but I was so desperate for the cash I stopped for them while they got in. The man up front, heavy built, with a round face wearing jeans a large tshirt and sneakers was talkative. He even seemed nice. But the slender guy, sitting at the back, also in jeans and a tshirt, kept staring intently at me. Almost menacing looking. The guy up front, whose name was "Sky" wanted to go for a ride. Check the car out. He asked me if I had brought the title. I stated I had. As we drove he motioned for me to turn down a street we neared. As I looked over and down the street I saw a gravel road curving into what appeared to be a dark thick set of trees on both sides. I told him I preferred the more open areas. He then became visibly upset. He stated he wanted others to see the car and the house was down that road. At this point I pulled over to a local gas station right beside a cop car and exited. I then told them both to get to stepping or I would notify the police. I knew now this was nothing more than a robbery attempt and my refusal to go down that road threw a wrinkle in their plans.
I also knew they didnt have the money. They both looked completely busted, "hungry" even to have that type of cash on them. The guy up front erupted into a flurry of profane cursewords aimed at me while they were walking off. I simply got back into my car and drove off. Grateful. And still thinking quickly how I would unload my car. I needed to leave that town.. that i knew.
Soon after a young woman called me. She was 17. She also lived near where I picked up these two young men. She wanted the car. I drove to her home and to my amazement saw about 15 people standing in the driveway. Her mother, father, brothers, uncles and cousins and God knows who all else. She liked the car and asked me to go and get the inspection which I did. My heart no longer was in the sale however as I knew that the owner of the car was actually the title loan company. But desperate times called for desperate measures. So I went through the inspection and brought it back to her. The sale was made.
With the money I retrieved from the sale of the car, I immediately went back to my home "by bus" and packed my bags. I was going to Houston, TX. I did not know much about Houston or Texas otther than there were JOBS. And I desperately needed one. I quickly packed my bags. I looked around my home one last time with a sad feeling overwelming me. It was my pride and joy. I had taken pictures the day I bought my home and they were packed in my bags. I did not know when I would see it again. I headed out up the street. The bus stop was around two miles from my home. Little did I know I wouldn't see my home until four years later.
After I caught the bus, we headed out. I did not know a soul in Houston or in Texas for that matter. But what I would do when I got there was a different matter. We made it to Dallas and when we pulled up in the greyhound bus station the bus drively calmly looked to his left and with his finger pointing at the bus pulling out stated "That was ya'll's connection".. WHAT!
So we ended up being stranded in Dallas, TX for 6 hours waiting on a different connection. They were nice enough to provide us with meal tickets and I was able to get breakfast. But I was tired. Dirt tired. I had already been on the bus for 8 hours and I had not showered or changed clothes. Plus I was watching my money and did not want to pay for a hotel room. So I called 211. Dallas, TX had a nice feel to it. It was something very warm about the city. My first impression, from how clean it was to how warm it felt was a very good one. After calling 211 I was directed to a couple of shelters and I immediately took down the numbers. The very first shelter I called was Union Gospel Mission. An elderly black man picked up the phone. I told him I needed a place to stay. He was so friendly. He immediately stated they had room for me and gave me the address. He sounded so encouraging. I immediately caught the bus and went there.
Union Gospel Mission women shelter was a little bit off the beaten path. There were a few very high end apartment complexes, a hardware store and a hospital surrounding it. The rest of the neighborhood was mostly hispanic working class. We were not far from the Salvation Army shelter which was walking distance and therefore there were a lot of homeless people. These homeless people were a little bit different than the average homeless person one thinks of when picturing a homeless person. All were women and children. Many had once held respectable jobs which they had lost. They still had a little resemblance of their previous life with the nice clothes and good etiquette. Most it not all were very friendly. A few even had cars. The Union Gospel Mission was in every way meant to be "nondescript". It was a large white building off the road a little and not noticeable from the street. It was a white stone building with a few parking spaces out front. No noticeable signs would give it away as being a homeless shelter. They did not allow women to "hang around" outside. You were either inside the building or away from it. Most women, I eventually learned would ride the bus all day, going from bus to bus, to spend the time out of the sun. The Dart bus drivers were aware and on one such occassion I was amongst them. They would let us be. Eventually at the end of the day someone would be found sleeping on the bus and he would nudge them to go. somewhere. even though he knew they didnt have a home. On one such occassion that someone was me. But I'm ahead of myself... Back to when I first came...
After getting signed in the agent up front, who went by "sister" showed me to my room. I would be bunking in a very small room with three other women. When I saw the room there was a set of bunk beds on both sides and a small entrace way in between. It also had a bathroom. There were no windows. It looked like a large closet. I wondered what would a person do if they really had to take a dump with no airfreshner or ventilation system in such a small closed in place. I chose the bottom bunk and tried to get settled in. I would be sharing the room with Linda, a tall and very thin 40 something white woman who bragged about how her husband was a lawyer and they had gotten a divorce. She seemed to have a disdain for blacks. I noticed this right away and thought how hard it was for her to have to bunk in a shelter and share the same restroom with three black women. The other woman was a youngish looking what I thought to be 20 year old but she was actually 26. She was from Africa and very black, pitch black, but very attractive. She was small framed and very friendly. Almost to the point of being gullible even. She spoke often of her son whose father was in the military. Although she stated her mother lived in Dallas she stated she would not live with her. I couldn't understand that. Mema (Her name is altered) left many questions unanswered. The other two women were dallas vagabonds in a way. Both older black woman, very slight built and obvioulsy battling drug addictions. Carla, was in her early 40's. She was very slim and very petite. She was apparently a very, very pretty woman before the crack addiction and she had the most flawless pretty light brown skin. She went through great care to make sure her clothes were the best. She was always dressed impeccably nice and even though it was readily apparent she was still battling her addiction with crack that didn't stop the men from coming on to her. She spoke so forcibly at times she would spit and she cursed like a sailer. Glenda was in her mid to late 40's and looked very haggard. Life had been rough to her. She was also battling crack. They all seemed friendly enough. And thus my life for a year at the shelter began.
All three of us would often be together when we had to leave the shelter. Dirt poor we would often be very hungry that evening when we returned to the shelter and meal time was a very very big deal. I specifically remmeber one day I had about $2.00 to my name on me. I was so hungry. We went to the Mcdonald's restaurant inside Parkland hospital to sit. The smell of the food was overwelming and I could hear my stomach grumbling loud. I so wanted to buy a $99 hamburger but I knew I couldn't. The other three were also hungry and I was not willing to share. At all. Any of my burger. So we all sat hungry there. During this time small comforts mattered a great deal. I often found myself planning how to spend $2 or $3 dollars with great attention to detail. A small bag of chips, a soda, a piece of candy.. these things were like presents. This was in 2008. And this poverty was abundant around Dallas. Indeed around the country. Hunger was so apparent that many of the homeless people at the Salvation Army up the road would lie like they were ill to be admitted into the emergency room at the hospital and then they would demand and be brought food. That was the first time I learned that even if you are in the emergency room awaiting treatment by a doctor if you demanded food you would be brought food. However, after watching how the physicians there treated these people I decided against that. They were literally abused and spoken to in often very demeaning manners.
At the shelter, we had been all given a three month stay at which time we were suppose to make alternate plans to go somewhere else after the three month period. We were also assigned a curfew and daily chores. I immediately set about looking for work. The first place I applied to was a large retailer. The largest retailer in fact in the country (I'm sure you have shopped there as they are everywhere). I was given a call soon after for an interview in a ghetto part of Dallas. The HR people there were equally as ghetto and when they told me the pay I accepted. However, a different store called me for an interview and they paid much more so I cancelled my application with the first store and started work. I was happy. My coworkers were great. The manager was nice. All was well. I knew I needed to save up for a car. Also, during this time I had met a "friend". He was also homeless. But he had a job at least and invested in getting me a phone. I had gone through great pains to keep my store from finding out I was homeless but there was no way to hide it because my address showed where I lived and they had to call me for a job and yes - the phone was answered "Union Gospel Mission"... So they knew. This was ultra embarrassing for me yes. Especially when some of my coworkers openly started asking "Where do you live" and I had to lie so often I had a hard time keeping the lies straight.
During this time I was still paying on my home out of state. I always knew I would return to it. So I made up my mind to keep it. The mortgage company had modified the loan (an emergency modification it was called) due to my being 5 months late. They actually stopped the foreclosure a day before it was to take place. They dropped my interest rate and forgave $47,000.00 off the principle. I remember talking to a white guy who worked at wells fargo and he mentioned to me "Whatever you do, Keep your home" and he didn't have to tell me twice. I knew I had a good deal. A "Sweetheart" deal which is what my mortgage company called it. So I struggled during this time often foregoing food to make the mortgage payment. I didn't think to get a renter during that time specifically because my Association contract forbids renters and also because I simply did not want to go back. At all. At that time.
I can remember walking into the retailer who also sold food so hungry. I worked at a grocery store for Christ's sake and could not even afford the food within it. One day Neth, one of my coworkers who was an older white women noticed my hunger and gave me $5.00.I bought potato wedges. Living in the shelter we could not cook at all or keep food in our rooms. The shelter instituted this policy from what I was told to keep varmints away such as mice and roaches. After my three months was up, I immediately looked for another shelter and ended up going to "Austin Street". Austin Street was far more seedier and in a seedy section of town. They took men and women. Mostly men however. It was awful. Many of the people had lived there for many years. They were vietnam vets and sometimes men who had retired from very good jobs and were getting a stupifying amount of money every month in but to these men Austin Street was their family. Their home. We slept on cots. There was also a curfew as it was with the other shelter but as with the previous shelter I was able to get an anytime pass due to my having employment. Churches and various organizations would come by and donate food and cook for us. It wasn't all that bad "except" there were open showers and we had to bare it all to dozens of women we did not know when we showered. Also, the rest rooms were open. No stalls. Just toilets beside toilets. The women also were "rougher". Far rougher than the women at Union Gospel Mission and many of them had been in and out of prison. The men too. Austin Street took them all. Murderers, Rapists, Pedophiles, you name it. I had never felt so low in my life.
During my time at Austin Street I made friends with a man named Larry. He was an older man in his 50's who was tall and slim. He walked with a little bit of a stumble as if he was constantly drunk but he didn't drink. It was simply his gait. He would often have a cigarette hanging out one corner of his mouth. He spoken fondly of his daughter and grandchildren often and Larry was more articulate than many others. He had done time in Prison for armed Robbery. He stated his wife had left him and he simply "gave" his wife their $300,000.00 dollar home. I still don't know if that one is true. However, Larry was safe. And took an interest in me.
After staying at Austin Street for a couple of months still paying my mortgage and looking for a better job Larry suggested I ask for a "Bed". I didn't know that because I was working I could get assigned a bed in the facility within either the shared dormitory or across the street at the other dormitory. So I inquired about this process and after showing my checkstubs I was assigned a bed. Finally. Ahhhh...It felt so good. There were no rooms. Our beds were right beside each other but there were priveledges. There was a couch. And a tv. And it was during this time that President Barack Obama was elected. I will always remember where I was. It was another defining moment in this country's history and although I was living in a Shelter I can remember the exuberance I felt.
When the numbers came in showing Senator Obama was the President Elect I looked around me to the mostly white faces in the room. They were unemotional. Could have really cared less. It simply didn't interest them. Politics held no importance in their life. A life of hard knocks and just trying to survive. We could have elected Vladmir Putin President of America and it would have still been the same. No one even really talked about it. Either in the shelter or on the bus or even at work. I saw the numerous magazines coming into the retailer where I worked all showing the President Elect Barack Obama (whose now a President approaching re-election) and they couldn't have cared. At that point I knew that Texas was a bit of a "different animal". I also felt a tinge of dissapointment and fear. How could so many people simply not care about the election of this country's first black president? And sadly I think the Republicans know that the poor are largely indifferent to politics which is why they can simply attack us for being the "problem" with America. And largely get away with it.
I never thought I would live to see the election of a black president. And here it was. Some of the older white men at my job were livid. They were Texans. Probably a little bit racist too. I can remember hearing "John" a 40 something year old white guy loudly disclaim his absolute hatred that Obama was President over and over. He kept repeating "He's over his head" and I wondered what would make him say that especially since the man was "just elected"? Why not give him a chance. Pete, another older white male associate was just as angry and he always let his disdain for the President show. I kind of figured out at that point that what riled these people was the fact a black man had been made Leader in a White Male dominated society and they frankly saw it as an affront. to their authority. I was mindful that the President had lost the white male vote and the white vote in general which now explains the republican parties mad rush to disenfranchise as much of the democratic voting base as possible through passing various voter suppression laws. But God will take care of that one too.
During this time frame I bought a car. A young white lady out in Rockwall Texas had a car for sale for $400.00. It had minor problems but for that price I would fix them. I was elated. I went out to meet her and she was with her husband who hung back looking at me suspiciously while we both finalized the deal and exchanged money. She explained to me every single problem which was wrong with the car. I was grateful. I needed to repair the power steering hose and get breaks. The radiator also needed to be replaced. I said I would and I did. The car which was a Ford Taurus drove fine for 6 months. Then it started to give me so many problems I eventually ended up ditching it. But oh well... By that time I had found another car on Craigslist which was a much older model Honda but it worked perfectly so thankfully I'm still driving. :-) My sister was right when she said Fords were crap.
I eventually left Austin Street and went to the Salvation Army Shelter by Parkland Hospital. It was there were I stayed two years until I found an apartment. By this time I had left the large retailer and was working at a much better paying position. I had found a small efficiency apartment in North Dallas and I remember getting the keys and thinking I can finally cook. For four years since my oddessy from my home I had lived in shelters. Finally I was just now getting back on my feet. My apartment was rather large for an efficiency and I was paying $399.00 per month. It was very nice. Very quiet where I lived. Many of my neighbors were living on Section 8. I was one of a very few paying tenants. One of my neighbors even suggested I get on Section 8. She explained that with the economy being the way it is, everyone should do it. She was in her 50's and had been on section 8 all of her life. She paid nothing in rent. Nor utilites. Nor food. She lived free and had been living that way all of her life. I kindly said "no thanks". I was young. Healthy. And I wanted a higher standard of living.
A year later a friend needed a place to stay and I sent her my house keys after traveling back and visiting the place. I was upkept. Except I was locked out of it. Apparently two years prior when the home neared foreclosure the mortgage company had already paid someone to go in and get the place ready to sit empty for a while. the toilets were taped shut. The water had been turned off. Antifreeze had been poured in all the pipes per the taped messages throughout the house. Also, I found out that the home had been reported as a foreclosure on my credit. Wow. I was able to pay the locksmith to cut me into the place and tried my best to get it into a livable condition. Spider webs were everywhere and spiders jumped out of every nook and cranny. Large brown spiders. I had the lights turned back on. I cleaned the place up. I bombed it a couple of times over. My neighbor came out to greet me. She said she thought the place had been foreclosed as she saw men coming in and out. I told her no. I was still the owner. She was amazed. Literally. She had not seen me in four years and here I stood. With keys in hand. I informed her I now lived in Texas. Where I loved it. Sort of. After preparing the place as quickly as I could I headed back out of town. I no longer cared for the town. Plus, my heart was no longer there (if it ever was). I was now a Texan. Sort of. The once beautiful lake that surrounded our community there was now turned into an overgrown ditch with weeds. I guess the recession was also affecting the white folks who caused it all with their greed and who also continued to perpetuate the recession by voting for these Republicans who believe greed = capitalism which = no regulation, exploitation, and enrichment of them and their buddies.. but that's another matter. After cleaining up the place, I headed back to Dallas.
Fast forward to now. Yes. I am back unemployed. Through no fault of my own. I am still a victim of the economy. And corporate greed. However, I have applied for unemployment. And if denied I will lawyer up and fight for it. I am also getting ready to start my own business. If I am going to work and have no job security and no health insurnace I might as well work for myself. Which is what my mom had been telling me to do all these years. I am so dissolussioned with the job market and with corporate america I have vowed to do all it takes to get my own business up and running. It is what I have to do now. These white people treat their workers with malice. With a backhanded slap really and they lie five different ways to Sunday. No more. Years ago my mom told me to never work too hard for them because at the end of the day they won't appreciate it. She was right.
So there. You have it. Until next time.
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