‘Poor people don’t plan long-term. We’ll just get our hearts broken’

In the autumn of 2013 I was in my first term of school in a decade. I had two jobs; my husband, Tom, was working full-time; and we were raising our two small girls. It was the first time in years that we felt like maybe things were looking like they’d be OK for a while.

After a gruelling shift at work, I was unwinding online when I saw a question from someone on a forum I frequented: Why do poor people do things that seem so self-destructive? I thought I could at least explain what I’d seen and how I’d reacted to the pressures of being poor. I wrote my answer to the question, hit post, and didn’t think more about it for at least a few days. This is what it said:

There’s no way to structure this coherently. They are random observations that might help explain the mental processes. But often, I think that we look at the academic problems of poverty and have no idea of the why. We know the what and the how, and we can see systemic problems, but it’s rare to have a poor person actually explain it on their own behalf. So this is me doing that, sort of.

She writes very well, but I still don't get it. I grew up poor, poorer than she did, from the sound of it. My mother was a nineteen year old with a baby and a black eye when she moved back in with her parents, who were subsistence farmers out on a dirt road miles from a small town with nothing keeping it afloat but a glass factory. They grew their own food and made their own clothes, and still used kerosene lamps when the electricity went out. That's how I grew up. There was no money for college.

I joined the military but as an enlisted, you are still poor. When I got out I was really no better off and ended up taking the sorts of jobs this author did: retail, food service, security, inventory. I averaged about $9,000 a year throughout the 1990s.

Like her, I had no credit rating at all, no medical coverage, no dental, no nothing. Unlike her, I also had no car, no phone, and for most of it, no husband. And I never had any trouble opening a bank account. Those remarks I do not understand... even if the bank won't give you a checking account, they are likely to give you a savings account because there is no risk to them.

But I did figure out one very basic thing: if you cannot afford to take care of yourself, you most certainly cannot afford a baby. And this nonsense about not going to Planned Parenthood because it's too far away and you don't want to be seen...? That is ridiculous. I rode the city bus for however many hours I had to and walked past whatever strangers were there to get on the Pill. And if you can afford cigarettes, you can afford condoms! So there's your first problem, having children.

I read her article

I did too, or tried. Stopped about halfway through out of disgust.

Truly, I think the author assumed that she's the only person who ever had to work before, or had it tough. I'm not sure if she was looking for pity, but all that she got from me was contempt.

Like you, I too have been poor. Dad got laid off - Thanks, Jimmy Carter!! - and, rather than sit around lamenting his fate, he went back to school to better his situation. Mom worked, and made $3.78/hour, or just a few cents above minimum wage. Contrary to Obama's demented rantings, you *can* get by on minimum wage, at least for a couple of years. I know, we did it. It wasn't easy, I remember eating a lot of PB Sandwiches (I was a kid, I didn't care), and Dad - when he wasn't in school, pulling a double load of classes so that he could finish quicker - put in a garden, which helped the food bills. There were *no* extras. I remember a couple of lean Christmases. When Dad got his 1st job, we went out to eat to celebrate. I remember, specifically, because 1) It was such a treat and 2) Mom and Dad had no idea where to go, because we'd not been out in years.

Vacations? Ha.

Unlike the author, they had credit cards. Didn't matter, because there wasn't any money to pay them off. They were "There for emergencies", though I don't remember Mom and Dad ever using them. I was just a kid, though, and I'm sure there were emergencies that I didn't know about. No idea what the author is talking about, not being able to get a CC. They're getting handed out like popsicles on a hot day...if you have a heartbeat, you get one. Though, as irresponsible as the author is, it's probably just as well that she doesn't have one.

Ditto bank accounts. If you have money, you can open one. I've done it a number of times in the past few years. Didn't take any more than some money and a signature. Unless she's transferring massive amounts of $100 bills from her secret accounts in Gstaad, I don't see how the Patriot Act even comes into play, here.

I never cease to be amazed at the hoops people jump through to PROVE that their circumstances aren't their fault. It does happen, but Occam's Razor states that you're usually the sumtotal of your decisions.

After being raised by a single mom and going through three ‘fathers’ I realized young that the most important decision that I was going to make as a mother for my future kids was to choose their father well.

Part two was learning how to cultivate a relationship with that very important man. How to support him and make our relationship stronger every day.

Marriage lifted me and my children out of poverty.

Now, I’m disabled, but I’m still not poor. I never will be. He’s set me up for a life without him (if need be).

Marrying a man who cannot provide is unwise. Breeding with a man who has no ambition or motivation is unwise. Marrying a good man, then nagging him to death is unwise.

I’ve seen the same success story you have lived, and HOPE was what your folks had that is the result of responsibility and self discipline; delayed gratification.

I see, all day long, this woman’s story. I have a business on a busy boulevard that sits between the cheapest flophouse motel and the nearest minimart/gas station. The tenants get their beer, cigarettes, nachos, soda fountain drinks, etc. from the most expensive source while they beg, scam and steal. These poor people have come begging to me with an 18 pack of beer under one arm, and their current sperm receptacle under the other as though I was born yesterday. THEIR kind of poor is terminal, and is what the poor girl in this thread explained. They don’t have HOPE to experience better, so they take instant pleasure every time, regardless of what an hour from now will repay in consequences.

There are a million paths in life and attitude is the thing that steers people out of poverty. I don't know if the household I grew up in classified as poverty level for sure, but we had a lot of nothing and life was a big struggle. My parents worked the same schedules this woman did, when they weren't layed off. Rural poverty has different variables, and more options probably. We ate potatoes and beans 5 days a week. The bulk of our food came from the gardens, otherwise we would go hungry. If our car WAS working under it's own power, it was on baloney slick tires, the muffler was either gone or held up with old clothes hangers and there was a hair curler holding the choke open so it would run. I remember going down the highway looking through the rust holes in the floor to see the road going by and since most of the roads were gravel, the car filled with dust that choked us. The passenger door was held shut with a piece of bailing twine.

Our home was a glorified shack, partly insulated with empty feed sacks. Air conditioning was something we only got to enjoy when we went to the grocery store for bread. I cleaned farrowing houses starting at 10 years old to help with money. My parents loved me and my sister very much... even though we chastised them for the relentless teasing we got for wearing horribly outdated yard sale clothing. Today, I feel pretty bad about giving them the business for that, they were doing the best they could. I could go on and on, but the point is there. when I was a kid, I didn't completely realize how poor we were, it was normal for us and to be honest, most of my local friends were in the same position. It wasn't until around 6th grade, seeing other kids from other areas that I realized how different life was for them.

Here's where the story changes. This didn't depress me or make me work hard to make other people understand, it resulted in a vow. I remember sitting in my attic bedroom, cold as hell because there was no heat except what leeched through the stairway opening form the wood stove downstairs. I remember that moment, I was about 10 years old or so. I decided at that moment that I would do whatever I had to do in order to avoid living on the fringes when I grew up.

It took me 20 years. I had no money for college, but I had motivation. I had an average brain and not much else to work with.

Fast forward 35 years. I'm now a seasoned, respected and in-demand data center architect with no college degree. Our combined household income is far more than above average. I don't even get dirty for a living. My kids attend private school, we drive nice, but modest vehicles, live in a quiet, clean and modest neighborhood and I already have enough stocked to retire if I wanted. Wealth is not even something I strive for, I work to make my family comfortable and without worry. Nothing more. I came from nowhere and I am nobody special. I'm not incredibly intelligent, no more than average. My story is one that is possible for just about anyone. In fact, I could have done SO much more than I did... had the desire motivated me to.

My mother and father have also graduated, just at a much slower pace... geography does dictate a lot of things and there are fewer opportunity for those not wiling to uproot and move. Mom is retired and dad is getting ready to retire this summer. They still struggle a little, but they are worlds better off now than they were in the beginning.

The point in this long-winded post is that I recognized one thing in that woman's write-up. She gave up and has no desire to think her way out of the situation. If the story is true, she appears to be willing to work for it, but has no sense of direction or ability to believe in herself. She's been taught that her life is hopeless and will never change.I assure you, I'm not aesthetically pleasing either, but that never stopped me. Failure is nothing more than a crossroad. If you sit down in the intersection and give up, your destiny is etched in stone. You can pause and pout for a minute, but choosing another road and trying again is how you will get there... never surrender.

This woman’s account of her problems began with the violation of one of the ten commandments: Thou shall honor your mother and your father. She’s wearing an anti-God tee shirt. I would have nothing and be nobody economically if not for God. I started out poor - most middle class kids around me did. We worked our way up; but this globalism animal has squelched that possibility for many because their labor market is global - including in the US - and people are now widgets.

The ethics of businesses have changed to the dark side with globalism. Treat others as you would want to be treated comes to mind. Many businesses violate this commandment from Jesus. Everyone suffers as a result.

And I do thank janitors and people cleaning up outdoors, in stores, restaurants and office buildings. If not for them, we would be living in crap up to our necks. Their service/work is hugely important to all of us.

Those times in life when I could afford it, I tipped good wait staff generously - way beyond minimal expectation. I have paid people for services more than they are charging - like window washers - because their service is more important to me than what they charge.

In my family we were raised to look at no job as “lowly.” All jobs have to be done and the people doing them are important.

And I think she brings out an interesting point that she also doesn’t consider.

While the rich may take the poor for granted, ie not thank them, not understand their stresses, the problems they face, the job issues facing them and such,

she forgets not everyone better off was always that way, and may understand that life and their issues,

and further, the poor have little understanding of the stresses of a ceo, of an analyst, of a middle manager who can be fired pretty easy if things go south, or can be outsourced or replaced by a temp. Have a mortgage hanging over their head. Car payments. College payments. Health payments. These are people expected to pay for stuff. They aren’t poor enough to be written off because they have nothing. They have something to lose.

Just about every tier has stressers and their own pressures. She has the idea that it’s just so much easier, and in some ways it is, but more is expected too. More responsibilities and more demands. They can’t sit around doing nothing, smoking and drinking and eating junk food. They have to be planning long term.

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