When you first meet Janine, your overall impression is of softness – she speaks clearly in modulated Midwestern tones, her hair is a honey-colored cloud, and she has the kind of posture your Grandmother yelled at you for not having. Her casual clothes are sweet and feminine. Today she has on a denim skirt on which she hand-stitched a few tiny flowers, and a gauzy white eyelet blouse more befitting a high school sophomore than the 43 year old medical secretary she once was. And she’ll talk about that to me today, while she tells me all about what it’s like to be on public assistance for the first time in her life.
There’s the shame, of course, and we’ll get to that. But first, more about Janine. She moved to New York to follow a man. He was a contractor redesigning the billing system in the Midwestern hospital where Janine worked, and by their third date she was smitten. Continue reading