Over the last year, I've managed to pull in $1,100 on a good month, less than $600 on a dismal one. Surprisingly, this still puts me marginally above the national poverty level ($716 a month for a single person). Despite the fact that the government classifies me as less than destitute, it's been a challenge to scrape by in this city.
I have no one but myself to blame for my low-income lifestyle. I'm not a domestic-violence victim, and my arm was not severed toiling away in some union-free factory, nor was I born into a poverty-stricken family. My residence in the lower-income brackets is linked to my enthusiasm for writing. In the two years I've been working as a freelance arts writer, it's become apparent that this is the only type of work that leaves me with a clear conscience, a sense of purpose, and the desire to work harder. I do not have a regular paycheck, health insurance, a savings account, or any of the securities that come with steady, salaried work. I do have the clichéd but peaceful satisfaction of doing something I've dreamed about since childhood. (Perhaps if Mom hadn't fed me all those Beatles records and copies of The New Yorker at the impressionable age of 10, I wouldn't harbor ambitions to be a rock critic.)
However, you're not going to find me banging a drum in the middle of Gasworks Park lamenting the fact that the creative arts aren't more valued in this country, or getting wired out of my mind at Bauhaus, going off about how someone needs to give me a grant to write a book about the political importance of Le Tigre songs. I'm weary enough to admit that it's a sad fact of American life that artists, writers, and critics are undervalued and underpaid. The trade-off of living this close to the bone for the joy my career choice provides is worth it, and being able to make such a choice is a privilege in and of itself.
That said, it doesn't change the fact that poverty is embarrassing, frustrating, frightening, and depressing. Sure, I have some friends that fly as low to the ground as I do, but I have many more who buy houses, never worry about medical bills, and take vacations as often as I take my change jar to the Coinstar machine. Sometimes the most difficult thing about being poor is just not getting bogged down in feeling like a desperate loser.
So what do you do? Essentially, there are three big challenges when coping with poverty: getting your basic needs met (food, housing, health care), keeping yourself informed and entertained (no, you don't have to stay home all the time feeling sorry for yourself), and maintaining your focus on getting out of the hole. Regardless of your approach, I say, do not stay inside and wither! Just as gas masks and firearms probably won't save your ass from terrorism, wallowing in misery will not solve your problems--and it will also annoy the hell out of your friends.
FOOD
Applying for food stamps is a complex and demoralizing process. If anyone has had a better experience, I'd love to hear about it--because according to my poor peers, my ordeal was not only typical, it could have been worse. On my first trip to the Community Service Office in Ballard, I received some grumbled instructions about completing the six-page application (from a guy who understandably hates his job), and then waited for an hour in a grim lobby where unfortunate kids screamed and weathered old men farted. When I was finally called to the front desk, my caseworker reviewed my paperwork, eyeing me suspiciously. Flipping to the page that outlined my "assets," he clicked his tongue.
"You own a car?" he said.
Yes, I explained, I do own a 12-year-old Mazda that has been sitting motionless in my driveway for over a year, thanks to the cost of new tabs, a handful of parking tickets, and not being able to afford car insurance--not to mention the four flat tires, a broken turn signal, and the leaky interior's growing population of spores. At this revelation of vast potential wealth, my caseworker crisply informed me that they didn't have time to see me that day, and that I should return the next day at 7:00 a.m. with the title to my car and a copy of my lease or letter from my landlord. I tried to thank him for his time, but he was already barking his next client's name over my shoulder.
When I returned home and did some more online research, I discovered that all that humiliation and paperwork would only get me about $15 a week in benefits. Still, figuring humiliation was probably just part of the game, I refused to surrender, and took a shot at the food-stamp program's recently implemented online application process (purportedly located at http://ww-app2.wa.gov/dshs/TEC/). After three hours, a zillion confusing server errors, and the realization that I would never find a human voice to help me on their tangled voice-mail system, I gave up. Perhaps I could sell the mold in my car to a penicillin manufacturer and buy some ramen.
It seemed to me that I might be better off putting in a call to Northwest Harvest (1-800-722-6924, www.northwestharvest.org). The warmly welcoming voice of Jean Allenbach provided relief.
"My advice is not to be embarrassed to ask for help; that's why we're here, and that's why people donate to us," Allenbach told me. "We provide food to more than 300 programs throughout Washington, and one of the requirements for those [affiliated food banks] is that they respect the dignity of the people they serve and that they don't practice a lot of heavy screening processes," she continued. "We don't ask any questions. When clients come in, we want them to feel like they're coming into our home, and feel welcome." And sure enough, the first time I visit the Cherry Street Food Bank, a smiling older woman greets me, hands me a basket, and asks me to be sure to look at the new boxes of pasta that just came in.
HOUSING
There aren't a lot of rental assistance programs out there that don't have incredibly complex application processes. Your best bet if you're trying to lower your housing costs is putting in a call to the Capitol Hill Housing Improvement Program (CHHIP) at 329-7303. CHHIP offers reduced-rent housing in 35 apartment buildings throughout Seattle (most are in Capitol Hill or Belltown). Income requirements are quite reasonable (a single person making $25,000 a year or less will probably qualify) and the wait time is variable, but not insurmountable. Jill Charles, CHHIP's relaxed and personable property management clerk, told me that the volume of applications has nearly doubled in recent months, but most folks can find a place within six months, especially if they are seeking a studio or one-bedroom.
Beyond the resources available through CHHIP, a quick survey of the for-rent ads will illuminate one of the more uplifting side effects of our weakened economy: vacancy rates are on the rise, and rents are falling. For some reason, too many poor young people want to live on Capitol Hill, which has the highest rents in the city. But if you're willing to look north or south, you can find a $500-a-month apartment in Ballard or an $850-a-month house in White Center.
A NOTE ABOUT GETTING AROUND
If you've read this far, you're probably poor enough to be familiar with Metro Transit. Fares range from 25¢ to $1.50 depending on the time of day and how old you are. Yes, riding the bus is just plain awful, and the only advice I can offer is to buy a Walkman.
UTILITIES
I know firsthand how scary it is to get shut-off notices in the mail, scornful red type telling you you're coming home to an ice-cold house and a hefty reconnect fee. Everyone should know that if you've gotten a final shut-off notice, you should immediately call the Energy Assistance Program at 684-3688 (www.liheapwa.org/home/). If your income is at or below 200 percent of the poverty level ($1,400 or less per month for one person), you'll probably qualify for 50 percent (up to $200) off your bill. You'll only qualify for this emergency assistance once a year, though, so get it together and apply for their regular Energy Assistance Program, which will ask you for pay stubs or a tax return and some sort of proof of your housing costs.
HEALTH CARE
About half a million people in Washington State live at or below the poverty level. Add in what the Poverty Action Network calls "the working poor" (people living on $18,000 or less a year), and the numbers jump. Much of this population receives no health care or is covered through Medicaid (you have to be over 55 or preggers, or already have some offspring, before you'll qualify for this). The rest of us have a pretty impressive option called the Washington Basic Health Plan (BHP). It's a low-cost insurance program funded through the state and administered by a larger bureaucracy called the Health Care Authority.
Program spokesperson Dave Wasser was helpful and friendly, but clearly overwhelmed when I asked him about the present state of BHP. He estimated that the current waiting list for people hoping to enroll in the Basic Heath Plan hovers somewhere between 6,000 and 8,000 (they only have funds to cover about 125,000 people at a time). Until new revenues kick in via I-773 (you know, the state initiative that means a pack of American Spirits is now $6), applicants can expect to wait at least a couple of months for coverage, possibly longer. Regardless of the delay, it's quite easy to get an application--just call 1-800-842-7712 or go to www.wa.gov/hca/basichealth/interested.htm to request one by e-mail. They have a really good selection of providers, and as long as you make $1,400 a month or less, you'll probably qualify. The monthly fees are super-reasonable ($10-$40 for full coverage) and co-pays are minimal. It's definitely worth the wait, and the sooner you get your application in, the sooner you'll be covered.
So where do you go during the interim? Folks who live or work on Capitol Hill can call the Country Doctor (299-1600) for sliding-scale services for most basic health-care needs, or at least get a referral to another low-cost clinic in their area. The 45th Street Clinic in Wallingford is one the best community-based clinics around, with a good reputation for treating their clients with dignity. They offer a decent selection of basic services on a sliding scale, and if they can't help you with something, they're usually nice enough to point you in the right direction. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about Harborview Medical Center. A lot of young adults end up here because of Harborview's low-cost STD screening and treatment services or, more dismally, because this is where uninsured patients are often taken for drug- or alcohol-related emergencies. Perhaps it's due to the range and scope of affordable services Harborview tries to provide, or maybe the administration just treats its clinic workers poorly, but the staff there is miserable and underpaid--and it shows.
If your immediate concern is reproductive or gynecological health, you have much better options through Aradia Women's Health Center (323-9388), Aurora Medical Services (546-8891), and Planned Parenthood (1-800-230-7526). All of these clinics received state funding this year from a program called Take Charge, which will cover the full cost of an annual exam and Pap smear, basic STD screening (HIV and hepatitis screenings are typically separate charges), and a full year of contraceptive supplies (pills, condoms, Depo-Provera, and many other methods). And yes, it works for boys too (but only at Planned Parenthood)--just tell them that you want to talk to a clinician about birth control during your exam. If they can't cover you through Take Charge, ask about alternate funding sources and payment plans. If what you need is a low-cost or free abortion, be happy you live in Washington. When you get pregnant, the state automatically counts you as two people (creepy, but true) for the purpose of obtaining emergency medical coupons, which you can use to pay for an abortion. (Voilà! You're one person again!)
STAYING INFORMED/ ENTERTAINED
So you have affordable housing and a reasonably healthy diet, and you're not pregnant anymore. That's just delightful, but how will you distract yourself from your impoverished reality? How do you stay informed about newsworthy goings on without having to rely on shitty daily newspapers and TV news? No, you can't afford cable, new-release video rentals, or a subscription to The New York Times. But things aren't as balls-out bad as they seem--you just have to exercise the greatest benefit poverty has to offer: abandoning preconceived notions of immediate gratification.
If you don't have a library card yet, put down this paper and go get one. The property taxes for the luxurious house that annoys you each day as you catch the bus pays for a rich selection of videos, DVDs, CDs, and books that are yours for the borrowing. If you have a reasonable appreciation for media and culture, you probably have a running list of movies, music, and literature that you keep meaning to digest. A visit to any of the Seattle Public Library's 30 local branches will garner you a library card in less than five minutes and give you access to all sorts of fabulous stuff. You can even place holds (in person or online at www.spl.org) on any material available in Seattle's system and have it sent to the branch closest to you when it's available.
My most recent library visit yielded a copy of Reese Witherspoon's brilliant indie film Freeway, a fabulous documentary on Lou Reed's career, a book I'm ashamed I haven't read (Raymond Chandler's Farewell My Lovely), and a rather inspiring Italian cookbook. I placed holds on Clinic's new release, Radiohead's I Might Be Wrong, and David Sedaris' Me Talk Pretty One Day. Two weeks later I got an e-mail telling me my selections had arrived and that I could check them out for weeks on end (without the late fees of video rentals or the uneasy sense of obligation one feels when borrowing from friends). Even if I had bought all this stuff used, I would have paid at least $100.
Being poor is no excuse for being bored, and it's definitely no excuse for being oblivious to current events. There are computers at the library, and you can stay on top of the latest news via the Drudge Report (www.drudgereport.com), which breaks stories at a blistering pace and provides links to almost every news source imaginable, from the Jerusalem Post to The Boston Globe. Harper's (www.harpers.org), The Nation (www.thenation.com), and even the National Federation of Republican Women (www.nfrw.org) all have extensive, frequently updated news sites, so whether you're hard-line conservative or hyper-liberal, you can easily keep up on events outside your bare-budget bubble.
SOCIALIZING, AND OTHER DISTRACTIONS
Many a thrifty hipster will tell you that to save money, you have to refrain from going out. I call bullshit on that. Going to a club with a $15 cover and imbibing Belvedere Cosmopolitans is impractical (and oftentimes unsatisfying), but that is far from the only way to have a good, buzz-filled time in our city. Plenty of clubs offer sublime happy-hour prices, reasonable covers, and great live-music bang for your slim bucks. Graceland started Monday-Funday, a weekly debauchery that features $2 drinks, weekend-worthy bands in the showroom, and DJs in the lounge. The Green Room at the Showbox has $2 cocktails from 5:00 to 8:00 p.m. every weekday; a comfortable, nearly swanky atmosphere; and no cover for DJ Spencer Moody on Thursdays. Keep your eye on the Crocodile's mid-week bills--lots of great touring bands can be enjoyed for a mere $6, and with the money you've saved as a devout library patron, you can reward yourself with an icy Rolling Rock for less than $3.
Furthermore, for a more homey and personal experience, get to know your local non-scenester bars. Yeah, gentrification has flattened a lot of beautifully sordid, cheap watering holes (R.I.P. Gibson House, the Unique, the Rendezvous), but there are others out there. Capitol Hill may be full of pricey scenester locales--but the Comet has great deals and gregarious service from 5:00 to 7:00 p.m., and Linda's offers an affordable happy hour from 7:00 to 9:00 p.m.
Moving northward, you'll find a handful of great neighborhood joints with charisma, history, and a whole bunch of nice people who are just as poor as you are. In Wallingford, enjoy the great jukebox and cheap pool at Al's; on the edge of Fremont you'll find the hippest blue-collar bar in the city, the Pacific Inn; in Ballard you can make yourself at home at Hattie's Hat, the Sunset Tavern, the People's Pub, or the Tin Hat.
Still feel too strapped to go out in public? Have your friends over for a potluck brunch some Sunday. Too many people seem to think that having a gathering in one's own household requires Martha Stewart-like preparations. It doesn't have to be that way. Just ask everyone to bring vodka or champagne, provide juice, eggs, bread products, and good music (or maybe that Lou Reed documentary from the library), and everyone will be terribly impressed, I swear. A graciously hosted BYOB gathering is an effortless, economical good time that will reap you the added benefit of all those bottles of red wine that are inevitably left unopened.
A NOTE ABOUT THE BARTER SYSTEM
Any self-respecting starving artist will extol the virtues of the punk-rock barter system. Trading goods for services is an essential cheap-living practice, whether you're a barista with an Americano-for-a-slice deal with the pizza boys down the street or someone like Chainsaw Records owner Donna Dresch, who's found herself "trading CDs for breakfast lately." One savvy, self-taught hairstylist I know slides into almost every club for free, simply because she's given many a club employee their trademark inky-black, shaggy cut.
A NOTE ABOUT TELEVISION
It goes without saying that you can't afford cable unless you have a lot of roommates to share the cost, but no matter how many channels you have, try to be selective about the volume of your intake. I suggest this not because I have a "Kill Your TV" bumper sticker on my moldy car, but because too many episodes of Sex and the City may cause even disciplined thrift shoppers to pine for overpriced shoes.
AND, FINALLY, A NOTE ABOUT KEEPING IT ALL IN PERSPECTIVE
So you're getting by, fixing the holes with a little help from your friends, but dammit, you still have days when you have to choose between toilet paper, a bean burrito, or bus fare--and soon you're entertaining thoughts of taking up drug dealing or sex work to pay the bills. Well, I have only two suggestions for you at this point. Check Withnail and I out of the library. If watching two starving actors living in London in the 1970s smearing BenGay over their bodies to keep warm doesn't make you feel slightly better, then take an honest internal inventory of what you DO have. Are all your appendages still attached? Have a handful of genuine friends who adore you the way you are? A roof over your head? Then you're certainly more fortunate than the homeless alcoholic you're darting your eyes away from en route to the library, and you should be deeply grateful for that.
It doesn't matter whether you're a disgruntled ex-Enron employee or a perpetually underemployed artist--in an economy going from bad to worse to kablooey, the sane and stylish survival of poverty is every self-respecting American's duty.
Seattle Food Banks Rock by Rex Ray
Seattle Food Banks Rock by Rex Ray
The food bank I frequented in Anchorage, Alaska, was in a Catholic church. The first time I walked in, I was given some religious pamphlets that explained how my stupid life wasn't worth crap. And I had to hand over my Social Security card before someone would hand me a sack of junk food. I felt like a loser while I ate my box of Cheez-Its.
In Pensacola, Florida, things were more difficult. To start off, I had to go to the Department of Welfare to get a referral slip before I could go to the food bank. After I gave the welfare people a bunch of false information (because I was from another state, which is a big no-no), they gave me a slip of paper with a red stamp. Then I took the piece of paper to the food bank's warehouse, where I exchanged it for a little cardboard square with a two-digit number on it. Then I sat and waited. When my number was called, I walked into a room where a suspicious older woman asked me a bunch of questions.
After the old woman pulled her arm out of my ass, I was allowed into the warehouse, where I was greeted by a guy whose attitude was quite different. He was about giving out as much food as he could to as many people as possible. I told him I was vegetarian (I didn't want to explain what a vegan was), and he walked back into the darkness of the warehouse. He came back with sacks of vegetables, which was great, and some nasty bundles of fish and chicken, which was, uh, meat.
Now that I'm living in Seattle, I make semi-regular trips to various food banks. I don't like to feel like a leech, so I try not to make regular trips. But once in a while I get the roommates together and make a day of it.
At the University District Food Bank (1413 N.E. 50th), we only have to give our names and show an electric bill to prove residency. Then we're treated to grocery bags filled with stuff, which we pick through before giving back items that contain animal ingredients. At the Volunteers of America food bank in Greenwood (9747 Greenwood Ave. N.), there are usually long lines and lots of old fools who make fun of my roommate Brian's dyed black-and-red hair. But the last time we went to the Greenwood food bank there weren't any lines. As we rounded the back corner of the building, we found a mulleted guy loading boxes into a walk-in freezer. It was obvious that there was too much stuff to move around and too few people to move it. My girlfriend Rebecca and I offered to help. When we finished, we were allowed to pick whatever we wanted from the milk crates up front and the secret stash in the back. Our booty included bags of granola, cans of "mystery stuff" (seriously, there were no labels!), cartons of soy milk, a wide variety of veggies, and 50 pounds of potatoes.
Recently, I have been going to school at Seattle Central. Although higher education is definitely a wise choice, it can also be a real burden in terms of finances and time management. There just aren't enough hours in the day to go to school full-time, hold down a job, and ride Metro everywhere. So now I look for food banks that are open on weekends. That's how I came across the food bank at St. Mary's Church (611 20th Ave. S.). St. Mary's is open on Saturday or Sunday--and guess how they make this seemingly random decision? They walk down the line and ask everyone which day is more convenient for them! Now, if only they had delivery service....
So you're asking yourself, did we have to show any ID to get food in Seattle? Proof of poverty? Answer a lot of probing questions? Read religious pamphlets? Nope, nope, and nope. And when you lend a helping hand around here, you're given all the grub you can carry. Chalk up some more cool-points for Seattle.
Rex Ray writes the zine PTBH!, available online at http://www.23skidoo.org/Zines/PTBH/.
