Recently, I came across a poignant post on the Humans of New York Facebook page that struck a chord with me. It featured an older gentleman discussing the notion of “bootstraps” and poverty. He shared, “I once thought I could simply tell a poor person, ‘Get a job, save your money, pull yourself up by the bootstraps.’ I no longer believe that. I was naive about the realities faced by those in poverty.” His words resonated deeply with me.
I embody the reality of the working poor. My partner and I both hold full-time jobs; I even have a part-time gig on the side. Yet, every month poses a financial battle. I used to feel ashamed of our situation. Despite following the blueprint of the American Dream—attending college, getting married, securing a job, starting a family, buying a house—I find myself suffocating in debt. At this rate, it seems I will pass away still burdened by my student loans and mortgage debt.
No matter how diligently I work, I feel one paycheck away from financial ruin. Each month, I meticulously jot down our bills on the calendar, attempting to align them with our paydays. When a school event arises that requires funds, I find myself calculating which bill I can defer. I’ve memorized the grace periods for each bill, so I know if I can’t pay the electricity this month, as long as I make a partial payment by the 15th, we won’t lose power next month.
Living this way is exhausting, but I’m too proud to ask for assistance. I know there are families in worse situations than ours, and I often remind myself that we are fortunate to have food, shelter, and safety. As for those “bootstraps” people often mention? I’ve held onto mine tightly, but it feels like I’m still not getting anywhere.
This Christmas, we fell nearly three months behind on our mortgage to afford propane for heating, buy a few gifts, and purchase new winter coats and boots for the kids. Meanwhile, our car’s tires are worn down, and my child’s rare genetic condition demands thousands in out-of-pocket expenses each month since we don’t qualify for assistance. I often lie awake at night, consumed with anxiety about how to manage it all.
We live paycheck to paycheck, and I know I’m not alone. According to the Center for Poverty Research at the University of California, Davis, the working poor are individuals who spend at least 27 weeks a year in the labor force but still earn below the poverty line. In 2014, the Census Bureau revealed that 45 million Americans were living below this threshold, representing 14.5% of the U.S. population.
While the current political climate feels daunting, particularly with the GOP’s control over Congress, I fear the future will only exacerbate our struggles. Reports suggest that cuts to programs aiding low and middle-income families will be more severe than any seen since Reagan’s presidency. If we lose our healthcare, the thought is unbearable, especially since my son didn’t ask for his condition. No parent is ready for the financial strain it brings.
When I think of “bootstraps,” I reflect on my grandparents who thrived during America’s post-war economic boom, when opportunities seemed limitless. They’ve had the means to uplift themselves. In contrast, I’ve worked tirelessly, yet I’m still drowning in debt from a modest home and an education that resulted in a job that doesn’t cover my expenses.
As my children head to school in their new winter gear, I’ll be trudging through the snow in my old sneakers because I can’t afford proper footwear for myself. We’ll manage to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads, but these sacrifices come at the expense of my health and spirit. There’s nothing lazy about our situation; being part of the working poor is a grueling and disheartening experience. The assumptions people make about escaping poverty are not only misguided but deeply hurtful.
When that man from Humans of New York expressed his newfound understanding of poverty, I felt a glimmer of hope knowing someone was publicly acknowledging the struggles many of us face daily.
I am the face of the working poor, and I hope you see me.