Am I Poor?
I don’t know who I am economically in this America.
On one hand, just a year ago I was a homeowner in a boom market, with an asset full of potential value.
On the other hand, now I’m a renter who doesn’t even qualify for the house I’m renting — my own house, the one I sold to investors. That’s the only reason I’m living in it — it was agreed upon before the sale. If they ask me to apply for this place next summer, I’m screwed. I don’t make enough for what it costs now, much less the formula of “make 3x the amount of rent”.
As a divorced American single mom with very little income, I probably qualify for a variety of services.
I don’t know how to get those services. I could probably figure it out, but I don’t want to.
Why?
Probably because I’ve been raised to believe that needing government help is for other people. People who are poor, who are probably lazy, or are not white.
I don’t believe that now, but the unconscious stigma remains.
On the other, other hand, as an educated person (I have a master’s degree) who used to give her ex-husband (an IT guy) advice on investing, and lived in a neighborhood of doctors and lawyers, I got used to a certain level of financial comfort which went away with the divorce, but not all at once.
