Monday, December 8, 2008

I'm Homeless...

Webster's Dictionary defines "Broke" as the past tense form of the word "Break". Break is defined many ways, some that describe  the way I'm feeling  right now:

  • 1 a: to separate into parts with suddenness or violence b: fracture <break an arm> c: rupture <break the skin> d: to cut into and turn over the surface of <break the soil> e: to render inoperable <broke his watch>
  • 4: to disrupt the order or compactness of <break formation>5: to make ineffective as a binding force <break the spell>
  • 6 a: to defeat utterly and end as an effective force : destroy <used starvation to break the enemy> b: to crush the spirit of <brutal methods broke the prisoner> c: to make tractable or submissive: as (1)past participle often broke : to train (an animal) to adjust to the service or convenience of humans <a halter-broke horse> (2): inure , accustom d: to exhaust in health, strength, or capacity <broken by his struggle for power>
  • 9 a: to ruin financially <break the bank> b: to reduce in rank <broken from sergeant to private>
  • 17: to ruin the prospects of <could make or break her career>

I haven't always been broke, but not having money makes me feel all the above overwhelming at the same time. Both of my parents are educated, came from good families, but sadly are from abroad and in the U.S., most people don't care about what you accumulate in other countries. Somehow, people think that unless you have been bred and raised in the U.S., you somehow have a degraded status (i.e.- your Canadian doctorate doesn't allow you work across the border, your M.D. makes you a nurse in U.S., you were a business owner in your country, but you are a sales associate in the states, your law degree can't even make you a paralegal in states...should I continue?) .

My mother got her first degree in Hotel Management and Tourism. She worked as a manager for the Hyatt Regency and the Lowe's in Montreal while attending McGill University and received her degree in Nursing. She then worked as a pediatric Nurse, did private duty home health, as well as ran her own private nursing facility. She had a home in the states, as well as in Montreal, not to mention the vacation homes she had been entitled to for her work in the Hotel Business in Jamaica. My mother worked private cases in the states, received additional certifications in homeopathic medicine, physical therapy and massage therapy to increase her profits as a private duty nurse. She worked for nursing agencies for benefits (health, 401K, dental, etc), but was primarily self-employed. She had her own massage therapy practice, worked spa's on Miami Beach during the tourist season, built private clientele and then continued her business during the "off" season. This was part-time. She worked at almost all major hospitals in South Florida.

My mom's husband (bio dad) was the Principal land surveyor and engineer for the Commonwealth of Jamaica....nuff said. But they got separated and messy shortly after I was born.

My mom has a progressive condition from diabetes called peripheral neuropathy. It basically means damage to your peripheral nerves (legs and arms) that cause you to feel numbness or nothing at all, kind of like when a limb falls asleep. She contributed a lot to others as a nurse, but received almost no care because she when she suffered a fall in her home, she was in between agencies and private duty work and was not covered under her agency's health insurance. Sad part is, things got worse.

Homelessness is a real thing for me....it's not something I see when I walk by a panhandler on the street. Homelessness is something I see everyday when I come home,  wherever my home happens to be. I appear to have it all together (for the most part), but most people don't know that I was living in a homeless assistance program for the latter part of high school and my first year of college. I actually moved into our first apartment we had had in years in 2006, my second year of college and the only reason we got that apartment was because I had established credit during the summer. In fact, I was almost on the streets the week after I graduated from college because I lost that apartment (the rent was increasing every 6 months) and BINGO...destroyed my credit. No Grad PLUS loans to pay for my first choice grad school....I am having to retreat to the bosom of Barry for my graduate education.

One would ask the question, "How does someone get into this situation?  Isn't there help? Your parents weren't bums, what happened"? The simple answer is, things were fine before August 1992, but I suffered the greatest tropical cyclone after Hurricane Katrina, Hurricane Andrew. In fact, it sounds corny, but you never really recover from natural disasters. You get displaced. You're uprooted. What ever stability you had is destroyed...and your sense of stability is gone. Forever. I lost my home in that storm, and since I have never lived somewhere longer than 5 years. People ask where I grew up, I say Miami, they ask "What part?", I say everywhere....I have stayed in people homes and have been subjected to shit, and abuse. I have dealt with watching my belongings that I cherish become trash. I have watched my belongings, my photos, my clothing, my stuffed animals, toys, and family heirlooms be throw in the street, aided by the handy dandy county sheriff. I have had judges order my mother in a wheelchair to vacate a premises in 72 hours and contact a shelter.

I have had shelters tell my mom that they accept women, but no men over the age of 8. I have had shelters that take only men say I would have to shower with  50+ men, at the age of 14, in a communal shower and then leave by 6:30am. I have had shelters tell me that I cannot be in shelter with adult men, because I'm a minor. I have heard shelters turn away my mom because she cannot walk and shelter's require self-sufficiency. I have heard that family shelters are full with 3 month waiting lists.

I have been told by social workers that my mother is unfit to raise a child because she should be in a nursing home. I have had social workers come to my home offering assistance, but instead want my mom to sign me over to foster care. I have had social agencies tell my mom that she had way too much education to receive any assistance. I have had my belongings stolen by people who say they want to help. I have had a church hierarchy throw me out of a property that they church owned for revenue. I have had deacons, pastors, and reverends come to my home on a Saturday morning with the police and threaten to arrest me and my mother for being 2 months behind on rent. I have had those same pastors lay hands on me for crippling depression that set in after I watched my mom loose her townhouse she bought after she worked with a psychiatric patient that wanted to give her a daughter for the entire length of the case.

I have been beaten at train stations coming home from rehearsals because I looked "gay". I have had "friends" spread vicious rumors about me in high school because I stayed in their home during a homeless period and they didn't like something I said to them in a conversation. I have had family members refuse to help my mom and I because I appear to be too "funny". I have had  relatives curse me the night I was baptized...."Faggots go to hell!". I have been told by relatives that my mom should have not had me and she would not be in her present situation...that she doesn't deserve help because she ruined her own life. I have had relatives gang up on me on Christmas and threaten to kill me if I ever came around them.

This time of year is rough for me. I don't give gifts because it's superficial and duplicitous. I don't have money and I won't acquire debt or pretend to have money to buy friends. This time of year, I think about the Christmas tree decorations I made in Kindergarten, and where they are now. I think about how the next year will turn out. I think about the millions of people this year that will experience what I've experienced for a large portion of my life. I think about whether or not my mom will be here next year, or even tomorrow, and if so, can I afford to bury her? Can I even afford to get her a life insurance policy to hide the shame? I wonder if I will be able to pay for school, or will I have to rescind a great offer because I broke a lease in college or defaulted on a credit card that I used to pay rent. I fret and worry that I will be somehow discovered and that my friends will laugh and betray me. I have one that does so every year. I wonder, "Who will it be next year?". I wonder, "Where will I be living next year?". I feel guilty because my mom's pregnancy influenced the onset of her diabetes and her ultimate condition. I worry about my career and if I will be able to deal with homeless clients or Katrina victims...I wonder what I will do if I have a client that has a hateful family that would say such terrible things, when social support is due.

I ultimately ask, "Will I ever own a home of my own, that is mine and exclusively so?"

*Peace*

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1 comment:

LT said...

I am not one to feel pity for people, and don't take this as me pitying you because its certainly not. I am just saying this because I truly like you and you are a great person. You deserve so much better than what life has given you. You are smart as hell and you can bounce back from anything! I am sorry for all that has been going on and I hope that things settle down soon. Do they have grad student housing at Barry? Ps...I didn't know you were at the grad program at Barry. What are you studying? That's so awesome! :) What do you want to do with your life?