I recently wrote about a neighbor / friend who was on public assistance through no fault of her own. She’s been treated abominably by Nassau County’s Department Of Social Sevices.
I will not go on about her fine manners, her love for her big orange tabby cat Angus, her forgiveness of the guy who put her here, or her can-do, make-do skills that she doesn’t even think twice about. (Note to self: Betts, New England thrift and frugality are simple beauty defined in a nutshell. But the Midwestern version is just breathtaking in practicality and genius. Take note.) Janine’s smile is tired, but it’s there, and her pride in her home and her appearance can be a bit deceiving to those who expect the newly poor to be slovenly. This is just her.
What happened:
1) Miss Thomas, the intake worker, ignored all of Janine’s carefully compiled bills and financial info. When asked about the Long Island Power Authority Disconnection notice, she said “If they cut the power, call us.” This is contrary to the Emergency Assistance booklet.
No one answers the phone at the number given by DSS. The voice mail is full. According to the departmental booklets, Janine was entitled to a payment on her behalf which she did not get.
2) Miss Ellis, Janine’s permanent worker, did not believe that an impending foreclosure action, utility cutoff, or phone / internet interruption were an emergency. She told her to call if there was a problem, and that she would call Long Island Power to “stall them”. She may have done this – the cutoff notice was moved from July 18 to Sept. 6. Miss Ellis claimed to answer her phone and return calls, but she does not and her answering machine has been full for three weeks.
3) Miss Greco, a low-level front desk functionary, informed Janine that despite her dire situation, there “was no emergency” and she couldn’t help her She saw the utility disconnect notices and ignored them.
3) An employment class was held today, geared mainly to high school graduates, not adults. But some of the tips were helpful. And then we had Susan, the head instructor.
Susan was harried and frustrated, but obviously a smart woman. I gave her an eagle-eye view of Janine’s situation. Susan glared at Janine, who had on a snappy navy dress and held a folder with her resume and all her paperwork, and it was pretty clear that Susan’s problem wasn’t with Janine. It was with the people who were jerking her around.
Susan hustled us into a room, then left. Through the wall, we could hear her losing her shit. “We don’t give people the runaround! We help them! That’s our FUCKING job. Ellis lied, and now I’m done. Done!”
Uh. Ok.
She snuck in a minute later. “The commissioner’s direct number.”, she quietly told me, shoving a crumpled paper into my hand. “And I’m here the rest of the week.” She smirked. “You call him tomorrow. The shit will hit the fan.”
4) Janine work(ed) in a white-collar job. Her re-employment prospects are excellent. All she needs is a bit of short-term help. It should not be this way. Not after the hundreds of thousands she’s paid to support these programs.
5) I’ma say something about Susan. Decency is not a nature/nurture conundrum. It just IS. You either have it or you don’t. So! On the walk from her car to her front door tonight, Susan may think: “I did what I know is right, I helped someone at my own risk, and her life is better because I busted some moron’s balls. And… I think I have to clip those chrysanthemums tomorrow.” Susan is an honorary NYPD cop, because she showed every attribute needed to be one. Brava, kind, hard-working woman. Brava.
6) To you who Have A Man or Have A Woman – here’s a newsflash. You don’t have them. They have you. He or she thinks you are some kind of divine gift and will protect you at all costs. Nothing bad will ever happen to you on their watch and every little thing they do will show it. An ill man or a depressed woman who buries a careworn face in the chest of their beloved needs no words to know that all will be well, eventually. Ancestors whom you will never know did this, and progeny who you cannot imagine will do the same. 2000 years ago, there must have been many a scared, confused Roman emissary lying in the arms of a Centurion near what is now Manchester, England, wondering how the winter would end and if he would see Spring and feel a strong, gentle hand pulling his face close.
A lucky Roman man got his wish. Many did not.
7) Ah, Roman women, like American women. Valued for generational replenishment. Treated like chattel otherwise – despite brilliance, kindness, and insight. In all this time, how little we’ve learned! Wise Romans – too few- sat and listened to your thoughts on education, civics and what it means to be a Citizen. Will we ever tell our ego to stop speaking over your genius?