Commentary—

Poverty Offers Scary Lessons

By Caroline Fanning

Few Americans will deny the existence of poverty in their land. From the holiday food drive to the homeless woman begging in the park, we are frequently reminded that even in the world’s wealthiest nation, people struggle to meet their basic needs.

Nevertheless, while most Americans will acknowledge the reality of poverty, few understand how it functions. Yet poverty is not complex. After just a few weeks of answering calls for the National Hunger Hotline, a US Department of Agriculture-funded referral service, my own understanding grew quickly from vague awareness to informed comprehension.

One striking lesson was the number of callers who didn’t know their zip code or county. I realized that most of them were new to their areas, and had yet to memorize their new addresses. While there are many explanations why so many of our callers would be on the move, the effects are straightforward.

Imagine a family that has spent every penny to pursue a job opportunity in a distant city. With two weeks to go before the first paycheck arrives, with no family or friends, and with no knowledge of local resources, it becomes clear why they might be hungry and homeless, even if only for several weeks. More often than not, however, for our callers hunger and homelessness are constant threats.

In a presidential campaign dominated by national security and the war in Iraq, little mention was made of America’s working poor. Their plight, however, is becoming a national crisis. For those living from paycheck to paycheck, all it takes is an illness, car trouble, or a hurricane for financial solvency to dissolve. When that happens, people who had once been self-sufficient are suddenly left dependent on government programs (if eligible) and local charities. Furthermore, they are often forced to choose between food, rent/mortgage payments, utilities, and health care.

Of course, not all our callers are gainfully employed. Plenty were born into and grown up through the welfare system, and their situations are often worse than those of the working poor. What I have found, however, is that the greatest emotional toll comes from dealing with the callers who work.

This has nothing to do with a generic distaste for so-called con artists who squeeze the system; I am aware of the social structures that prevent people from achieving sustained self-sufficiency. Rather, I am merely inclined to feel more strongly for people who are audibly frightened, which — except in emergency situations — our welfare callers seldom seem to be. Their skin has been toughened by years of struggle, and while they call for help because they need it, I rarely doubt that they’ll find a way of getting by.

The working poor are different. Having placed their faith in the American system, they feel cheated when it fails them. What is even more heartbreaking is the sense of panic, helplessness, and shame in their voices. They are terrified of what will happen to them and their families, they feel as though they’ve lost control of their lives, and finally, they are humiliated by the prospect of being dependent upon the government and upon others.

As USDA statistics illustrate, poverty in the United States is far more pervasive than most people realize. In 2003, 12.7 percent (nearly one in eight) of all Americans were living in hungry or food-insecure households. After four months of working at the hotline, I now understand how easy it can be for people — including myself — to fall upon hard times and descend into poverty. While that can spawn fear, it can also spawn hope. If middle- and upper-class Americans were to appreciate how they themselves are not immune to unexpected hardship, they might be less inclined to judge those who have already fallen. Indeed, they might be more inclined to speak out against poverty and to add their support to the efforts of those already working to build a more economically just nation.

(Caroline Fanning is a program assistant for the National Hunger Clearinghouse of the organization World Hunger Year.)