by Elizabeth Dede
Since the end of May of this year, I have been unemployed. Because I am disabled, I receive a small SSI check each month, and I qualify for Food Stamps.
After visiting the Labor Department, which was jammed full of unemployed people looking for work, and where I was treated with great kindness and care, I became acutely aware of the dire state of unemployment in Sumter County. There are very few jobs available. The Labor Department was only able to offer me, and everyone else in the waiting room, an application for the new Lowe's, which will be opening soon. Sadly, though, I read in the Americus Times-Recorder recently, that the person filling the position as manager is not from Americus-Sumter County, even though we have many qualified people for that position, who are currently unemployed.
I spent hours and days, calling, emailing, and faxing my resumé to every job possibility that I remotely was qualified for. I went for interviews, and tried to explain the various experiences I've had in my 30-year work history.
Finally, though I had to face the facts: I have a ridiculous educational background: studies in English Literature and the Humanities, with a Masters Degree even; and my work history is even more silly: 15 years as a full-time volunteer at a homeless shelter; followed by 7 years as an advocate for prisoners; followed by an extremely brief tenure with another non-profit.
In July I had to break down and put in an application for Food Stamps. I've been through the process before, both for myself, and as an advocate for other needy people, so I know what is required. I had all of the necessary paperwork, and copies made of everything.
I had my initial intake, and the process was smooth, respectful, and I didn't have a very long wait. I was given another appointment for the second part of the approval process.
Again, I showed up at the DFCS office with all the necessary paperwork. I arrived ten minutes early, to be respectful to the caseworker, and signed in. The people at the front desk were in the middle of complaining about two little boys who had emptied the toy basket onto the floor in the waiting room, and were playing together. As I sat waiting with the others, I wondered what the toys were there for anyway.
I waited for 50 minutes-40 minutes past the time of my appointment--and nothing happened. In ten more minutes, I had an appointment for a job interview, so I had to make a decision: Food Stamps or the job interview. I went back to the front desk, and inquired about my appointment. I was told that my caseworker still had one client ahead of me, and then I'd be seen. I decided to leave. However, I couldn't just set up another appointment. I could only leave a note for my caseworker, with my address and phone number.
A week went by, and I did not receive a phone call, or a new appointment through the mail. I am thankful that good friends invited me to their homes for meals so that I didn't go hungry during this time.
After a week, I went back to the DFCS office and asked if a new appointment had been set up for me. The woman at the front desk was unable to give me this information, and told me that all I could do was leave another note with my name, phone number, and address for my caseworker.
At last, I got a phone call, telling me that my appointment would be on the next Tuesday-two weeks after my original appointment-at 2 p.m. The time was significant because my caseworker told me that I would be her first appointment after her lunch break.
Again, I signed in ten minutes early, and I still had all of my paperwork, and copies of the necessary forms. This time I waited for an hour before my caseworker returned from her lunch break. I guess I don't need to point out the irony.
Over and over again in the white world I hear people make derisive comments about the undeserving poor. Of course, they don't know that I'm one of "those people." Poor folk who must rely on assistance from DFCS are insulted and called lazy: "All they do is sit around on their butts all day long." Unless you've been in the waiting room at DFCS, you have no idea how humiliating it is to be forced to wait for more than an hour while your caseworker is out to lunch; to be forced to wait for two weeks for an appointment because you're being punished since you chose to look for work rather than "sit on your butt" any longer in the waiting room at DFCS.
The waiting wasn't over, either. One week later my Food Stamps card finally arrived in the mail. I continue to be grateful for my friends who invited me to their homes for a meal, or who brought me produce from their gardens.