Across the Great Divide

Abuse Stories Take a Different Form on the Streets.

Abusive relationships have been all over the news lately because they involve well-known figures and sympathetic victims. In some cases, relatively minor exercises of male privilege are held up to represent a long-suppressed and much deeper problem.

At places like the Day Center, there's no shortage of examples of how abuse plays out in extreme ways against powerless people. But these stories are not salacious or satisfying to uncover. No wealthy monsters are called to account. No articulate and talented individuals receive belated recognition for what they endured.

Tricia, we'll call her, came into the Day Center for the first time Wednesday morning. 

She's been homeless since December 11th after being slapped with a restraining order by a woman who shares her house in a very small Western Slope Colorado town. She can't get back into the house to obtain clothing or other possessions without a judge's order. 

The other's woman's claims of physical abuse by Tricia are false, she says. The real issue is the friend's alcoholism and conflict over the fact that they bought the house together but only Tricia has been contributing to the payments. Filing for a permanent restraining order is a move to force a sale of the house so the woman can take half the proceeds, according to Tricia.

Her situation is complicated by the fact that she is employed in Rifle, a town large enough for a WalMart but too small for a shelter or other resources for homeless women. The shelter in Grand Junction has openings, but the hours don't align with her work hours and hour-plus commute to her low-wage job.

The last two nights Tricia couch-surfed at the house of a Grand Junction acquaintance, but the woman has a new boyfriend and said she didn't want to risk the relationship. A married co-worker has offered to put Tricia up until the situation gets resolved, but she doesn't want to impose on the couple.

Her plan is to sleep in her car and hope she can get the restraining order lifted at a hearing next month. Either way, it sounds like the living situation will remain untenable. The other woman's name is on the deed.

Tricia was clearly stressed and preoccupied with not coming across as needy. I encouraged her to accept the co-worker's offer of a place to stay. Neither pride nor instability was going to help her right now. She'd benefit from the support of someone who understands her situation.

Before she left to consult with a lawyer about her upcoming court date, Tricia took a shower and fixed her hair. Meanwhile, we checked around to see if we could find a sleeping bag so she could stay warm in her car without running the heat all night. None were available. I told her about some other places that had blankets and clothing and urged her again to consider the offer her co-worker had extended.

Tricia seems like a decent person in a tough situation, but I've only heard one person's side of the story. I've learned not to leap to conclusions or try to lift burdens from those who won't relinquish them.

On the county assessor's site, there's a picture of the house in contention, a manufactured home first sold in 2001. In 2007, when area unemployment was at a decade-low and the housing bubble had yet to burst, the house sold for more than twice its original price. By 2010 the house belonged to the lender and changed hands between mortgage companies before eventually being sold in 2012 for $1 to the U.S. Government.

County records list a zero-dollar sale price to Tricia and her friend later that year. I don't know the terms of the sale or the prospects for taking out equity if they do sell the home. It's possible that a working woman in her fifties could end up on the street with nothing to show for her five years of investment.

Maybe two people. There's no rich guy's downfall to spice up this story. No cushion. Just a net that will have even bigger holes in it if the powerful people have their way.

Winter Shopping.

A fleece jacket had been left for some needy street person. Over the course of the day, people picked it from the table, held it up for size and set it back again---but not before subtly checking the pockets. 

Do handouts weaken initiative? Is it true as I heard someone say, they'll walk two miles for a free bus card but not a block to put in a job application?

The bus card is now. It is certain. It represents mobility, freedom.

The job application is future. It is a maybe, more likely, a rejection based on the past. It represents commitment, complication, restraint. 

I do not think like a person who has nothing. It does not occur to me to look a gift jacket in the pockets.

Unlimited Hope and the Rusty Edge of Charity

Chances were fair that I would not see that bicycle again. It was a gift after all, and what of giving grants us the right of keeping?

I'd bought the Frankenbike long ago from the man who'd built it for himself out of parts from several cast-off bicycles—an old AMF "Sky Rider" coaster bike paired with a generic mountain bike fork and new Schwinn chrome fenders. A single speed with a moderately low gear that allowed you to climb any hill in the city, with fat tires that made it stable on snow and ice.

I kept it at the office for errands and downtown client meetings and once rode it home in a blizzard that locked down city traffic. Later, when we moved to a building that didn't allow us to bring bikes inside, I took it home, outfitted it with a newsboy basket and used it for grocery and beer runs. One spring I stripped it down to the bare steel and repainted it, but the rust from winter riding crept back again.

Adorned as it was with lost toys and stuffed animals I found on my rides, the bike never required locking when I went into a store. Who would want it? Or would risk the wrath of the crazy guy who rode it?

The bike had served me well, but a few weeks ago, I decided to part with it.

A fellow we'll call Marsh was looking for a bike to transport his stout self and shifting daily inventory of belongings. His previous one had either disintegrated or been sold for a few dollars. I told him I had an extra I scarcely used any more, and I showed him a picture. He was interested in the bike but not the rubber alligator, baby shoes and Barney Castle I employed for security.

He didn't have lock right now, he said, but he'd take the bike into his building at night. I knew he lived in a tower about a mile away and I warned him that the bike was heavy.

He told me he had an elevator, no problem, so we arranged for him to check out the bike the next week.

Without its decorations, The Sky Rider still looked cool, though Marsh was not particularly into its more subtle features, such as the rotary bell I bought from a Chinese street vendor, the vintage Mesinger seat and the front wheel's spokes braided by Namond, the Satanic Mechanic. I told Marsh the basket could haul forty pounds of groceries. He wanted to know why it was set at an angle and whether he could level it. 

After cautioning Marsh to remember the bike had coaster brakes, I watched his slow test ride down the alley and back.

Yes, I thought, I'm ready to let it go. But I also realized I wanted to pass along the bike's history as well as the steel. I had loved that bike and I wanted it to have another loving home.

Duh. It was going to a former homeless guy, not a bike geek. To Marsh, my rolling repository of stories was a caravan of compromises. 

A few days later I saw Marsh and the bike. 

That bike bloodied me up five times! he said. My face, my leg, my arm.

You've got to remember to use the foot brake, I said.

I forgot.

You'll get used to it, I said.

He said he was taking it to the hardware store to raise the basket and get a hand brake installed on the rear. 

Yeah.

After a week and half away from Peace House, I saw Marsh but not the bike. He wore dark wraparounds so it was impossible to make eye contact, and the fact he was avoiding me told me the bike was gone.

Calvin filled me in. He said Marsh complained the bike was too slow. Calvin said he told him, it's not the bike. You're too fat and carrying all that stuff. 

The Sky Rider had passed through several hands already, Calvin said. He'd seen it on Lake Street the other day, still bearing the basket and fenders but without its Sky Rider gas tank. Marsh could never hold onto anything, Calvin said. He'll buy a bike or a DVD player in the morning and get high and sell it that night for a fraction of what he'd paid. 

One day years ago I was riding the Sky Rider down Lake Street and I ran into the Satanic Mechanic himself. He told me he'd had no intention of selling the bike and now wished he'd kept it. 

I don't regret giving it away. I knew this outcome was a possibility, although I'd hoped to follow the bike's adventures for awhile longer. I'd hoped it would give the next owner pleasure or at least make a small difference in his life. 

But this is a story I can only tell. I don't get to write it.

Maybe the former Sky Rider will survive. Maybe it'll come back into Namond's hands as junk and he'll resurrect it once again. 

The universe is an unpredictable place where things sometimes work out on their own.

[UPDATE: This story has evolved since I posted it. For more, read The Peripatetic Bicycle.]

 

Marsh's new bike

Shelter Report: Menu of the Day.

Since I was last at the shelter, a small art exhibit has appeared on the classroom storage cabinet doors. Ten children have colored in Gingerbread Man shapes and labeled the picture by describing their mood.

On another wall is a menu of feelings, with accompanying emoticon-style expressions: Frustrated Embarrassed Happy Sad Surprised Shy Excited Mad Lonely Loved Proud Worried Scared Angry Nervous Silly Worried.

Can you guess how the artists completed the statement "I am _____?"

Answers at the end of the post.*

The afternoon shift is much less active than the morning—or it's supposed to be—as we try to bed down the preschoolers for a two-hour nap period. It's rare that everyone is asleep at once, and yesterday, we had a new boy, named for an iconic Democratic president, who was bouncing off the walls the entire time.

He finally quieted when we allowed him to sit in the library and look at books—something not normally done, because then other kids think they should be able to get up, and then...

Anyway, since I no longer had to patrol him so his forays didn't disturb the other nappers, I became available for another assignment—one welcome to a guy who has his own issues sitting quietly without a book.

I was given a stack of newspaper advertising supplements from KMart, Aldi, Walgreen's, Target, Procter & Gamble, Rainbow and Cub with an instruction to cut out pictures of food.

(Direction to any future caregivers should I spend my days in a nursing home: When Mr. Quimby gets restless, give him scissors and advertising inserts and tell him to cut out pictures. If newspapers and magazines no longer exist, remove his feeding tube.)

I asked if candy and soda were considered "food," and was told it was all right to include in this case, since the children would be using my clippings to describe their favorite meal.

Perhaps, like me, you have reached that place in life where you no longer peruse advertising inserts. You have your habits, your brand loyalties, an adequate sum of worldly possessions and sufficient income that you will not travel across town to save 49¢ on frozen peas.

But I can tell you, in the day center where I also volunteer, every bit of the daily newspaper is closely read by the guests, including the inserts selling consumer products you're unlikely to find in any homeless camp.

Part way through my work, rising children came to the table and began to help me find pictures. As we worked, I learned:

• Most pictures of food were actually of consumer packaging
• Fresh produce photos looked good, meat products rarely did, and cheese, bread and pasta looked like nothing
• Children could easily identify pizza and macaroni and cheese from the packaging
• Every retailer had sales on soda, sweetened juices, water, salty snacks, candy and preserved meat products
• Featured produce consisted of tomatoes, lettuce, bell peppers
• The closest items to "ethnic" foods were Tostitos, Greek yogurt and an unidentifiable picture of collard greens
• I found only one picture of milk and no eggs.

I look forward to seeing which images the kids select. Will they want Kraft or the generic mac & cheese, soda or juice, roast beef or hot dogs? Will anyone actually choose the bottle of fish oil I included after the whole table insisted they loved it?

At the shelter, the families can enjoy nutritious, balanced meals each day. When they find a place of their own, will it be, as one boy told me, "next to Family Dollar"—a store that to him is a cornucopia? Will their shopping bags fill with fresh produce or with cheap and ubiquitous empty calories, sugar and salt?

Is it even necessary to ask these questions, when the menu of options seems to consist only of bad answers?

_______

*The tally from the art gallery: Four "I am Sad"; three "I am Happy"; one each "I am Worried/Angry/Mad."

I'd caution against reading too much into these selections. The moods of preschoolers can shift through many modes in the course of a day, and some kids tend to mimic the first response given, so if the first artist had said, "I am Silly," the entire mix might have shifted.

 

Shelter Report: Strangers Holding Hands in a Monument to Consumption.

Today we filled the preschoolers' morning with a field trip to the Sea Life Aquarium at Mall of America. I can now state with assurance that most of my lifetime visits to MoA have been driven solely by my responsibility as an  escort of small children.

If the Mall depended on people like me, sheep would still be grazing in the fields of south Bloomington.

Based on this morning, children with no disposable income must constitute a majority of the pre-lunch crowd.

The Aquarium is a commercial entertainment venture, like everything else at the Mall. For our kids, it was the first chance they'd had to see jellyfish, watch rays soar overhead and compare their adult buddy's size to that of sea life. Some tickled starfish, but for the most part they seemed to soak it all in at once rather than pay much attention to specific creatures or learning experiences.

Thankfully, that's the way they walked through the Mall, too.

Like most of these outings, this trip was accompanied by a contingent from a local corporation—in this case departments of Cummins Power Generation.

It was the most diverse group I've seen in my three years volunteering—not counting the fact that all but two were male. I didn't get a chance to speak much to the other adults, but I'd guess we had one African, one Chinese and a broad representation from the Indian subcontinent along with a three garden variety Minnesotans.

This was the America we keep reading about but not quite encountering in this state. It's the demographic spread meeting the economic divide. Kids without homes stolling through a monument to consumption. Strangers holding hands.

I don't know how well these trips inform our visitors about the kids or the work the shelter does, since the outings can seem closer to gym than to classroom learning experiences. Anyway, I appreciate their effort and hope some of them come away inspired to do more.

Because these kids will grow with every friendly hand they meet.

Mr. Bolt's Tax Problem Isn't Mine.

Punitive tax policy had kept the world's fastest man from competing in [the U.K.] for the past three years. Explaining Mr. Bolt's decision to skip a 2010 race in London, his agent told reporters: "He will earn a lot less by competing in Britain if he maintains his current endorsement level." Mr. Bolt competed in Paris that August instead.

Few high earners in other fields would choose France over Britain on tax policy, but athletes are a different story. [...] [N]ormally Britain takes a cut of an athlete's worldwide endorsement earnings—that means overseas sponsors in addition to those in the U.K.—proportional to the time spent in Britain.

—Usain Bolt's Tax Lesson

I was steered to this Wall Street Journal item by Economist John Spry and frequent Twitter sparring partner Craig Westover.

Bolt ran six official races in 2011, including the IAAF World Championships. Had one of those events been held in the U.K., his fees for the race would have been subject to the income tax—as well as one-sixth of his world-wide endorsement income.

One source estimates Bolt's current year income totals $20.3 million, which means $3.83 million of his income would be taxed if he ran in London instead of say, Oslo.

(In the U.S., professional athletes pay income taxes in the states where they perform, as a pro-rated percentage of their salaries, but they don't pay state taxes on their endorsements.)

The article also quotes No. 1 tennis player Rafael Nadal, who makes an estimated $33 million, as skipping a Wimbeldon warm-up event because he was "losing money" by playing in the U.K.

Although making less is not quite the same as losing money, no one would blame Nadal or Bolt for exercising their right to pick where they compete and avoid the tax.

Seen another way, each event Bolt runs does contribute to his worth as an endorser. If he ran no races at all, his value would decline, as it does for all athletes, even self-declared legends.

But is it fair to say Bolt "earned" part of his endorsements in a particular race?

Perhaps. But his sponsors determine what they think his name is worth independently of a specific performance. I personally don't think one-sixth of his endorsement income is attributable to one of six races.

As tax policy, the U.K. law seems extreme, doesn't it? And the example certainly underscores the article's conclusion, "that taxes influence behavior."

Less obvious, though, is the second part of the conclusion, that "punitive taxation hurts everyone."

Bolt skipping a London race deprives maybe 50,000 spectators of less than ten seconds of live ecstacy, since Bolt races only in a few countries each year anyway. The lost "economic benefit" of him performing in London is also dubious, since sports fans will still spend their discretionary dollars at soccer matches, in pubs or other entertainments.

No one needs to change the tax code to help out Mr. Bolt who, excluding his training time, will run for about three minutes a year to earn his $20 million. He's perfectly capable of avoiding the unfairness.

But by publicizing such exceptional circumstances, the low-to-no-tax advocates seek to spread the sense of unfairness to the rest of us, thereby reducing support for any taxation schemes—but especially those that tax the wealthy.

Wherever you look, the call for smaller government and lower taxes benefits most the people who have the most and have the most power to evade taxes already.

Shelter Report: Romney's Little Welfare Princesses.

We had a full house of 20 kids in the preschool today. About five children are preparing to enter kindergarten and had some outside classroom work in the morning. There was also a session for their parents helping to orient them to kindergarten and to know what to expect when their child starts school.

I suppose for people who've never visited a homeless shelter, the image is about cots or bunk beds and free meals instead of support programs to help families get back on their feet. Here at People Serving People, the walls and elevators are papered with announcements about programs to help residents find work, prepare for interviews, take classes, develop techniques to deal with stress, tutoring kids, improve parenting skills, etc.

According to Mitt Romney, none of this would exist if President Obama is re-elected:

Under Obama’s plan, you wouldn’t have to work and you wouldn’t have to train for a job. They just send you your welfare check.

Follow the link if you want more background. Obama's offer of a waiver to states on welfare requirements means states can try new ways to get people back to work without the states losing their federal funding. Governors have to request the waiver, and some GOP governors have already asked for more flexibility of this sort. Obama himself won't change anything; the state must have a plan to get people off welfare and into jobs sooner.

Romney's statement is what used to be called a lie. The media are reluctant call out lies, so they're even less likely to point out why the lie's being floated. It's all about resurrecting the mythical welfare queens of the Reagan era and stirring up resentment of the poor.

If conservative voters really understood what's left of welfare after the reforms of 1996, they might be more supportive of the program. If they saw the programs available in our shelter, they'd see how they contribute to more stable families and better outcomes for kids.

But the discourse isn't even close to that level.

For example, did you know a family of three in Minnesota has to earn less than $12,804 (all data from 2007) to qualify for "welfare" cash assistance? And if they earned the maximum and raked in every eligible dollar for a full year, at best, they'd still only have just over $19,000 to live on.

Of just under 67,000 total recipients in the state, 26% were adults. Of the remaining 74% who were children, nearly half were kids who did not have a parent receiving benefits.

Yet read Romney's statement again. It's not only wrong about the job training; it's misleading about who is actually getting that welfare check.

I don't know how many of the kids I work with receive Temporary Assistance to Needy Families, but I do know any little welfare princesses in my classroom won't be on it for long. There's a 60 month lifetime limit on their families receiving federally funded benefits.

 

 

 

 

Four Years Ago

I wondered what I was blogging about on leap day exactly four years ago, when I posted just about every day.

It wasn't about homelessness.

The Five-Minute Argument or the Full Half Hour?

So, far Craig Westover and I seem to be doing better than the fellows in the Argument Clinic.

We started our conversation with this story about social services providers continuing to work through the government shutdown, and then we discussed his "first lesson" here and the second regarding the private sector/government relationships here.

Though we may continue hammering away in the comment sections of those posts, it's time to move onto the third lesson, which Craig formulated this way:

A third lesson is one shouldn’t put all one’s economic eggs in the state basket. It’s also another reason “tax the rich” doesn’t work.

Williams was in a financial bind because all (most) of her revenue came from the state. In her case, the problem was a state shutdown; in the future, it might be a recession that reduces the income of the “rich,” which significantly reduces state revenue from taxes. The problem with highly progressive taxation is in dollar terms a relatively few people are supporting everyone else. They take a hit, and the ripple effect is disastrous.

The solution for Williams is multiple revenue sources, which implies a market solution.

Craig, you'll get no argument from me about the "all-in-one basket" caution, but your explanation of it betrays you once again peering from the fat end of the telescope.

The clients at All About Kids daycare are indeed subsidized, but we don't know how much of Williams' revenue came from the state. The story says, "All of her clients are low-income and struggle just to pay their $2 to $24 sliding fee." Sounds like multiple revenue sources to me.

This is one reason I picked the story to discuss. The subsidy is supplemented with client funds based on their ability to pay — sort of a progressive scheme, just like the income tax. As their circumstances improve, they pay more.

Perhaps this model could be employed more widely. Not simply, as in the case of health care vouchers, as a way to throw people out of public plans, but as a client-centered, outcome-based approach to helping people at the margins Republicans seem none too interested in.

You argue Williams' problem came from being too dependent on the government payments. I'd argue her revenue shortfall came her choosing to serve a segment of the population that is disproportionately affected by policies that favor your favorite constituency.

The shutdown occurred because the representatives of wealthy Minnesotans didn't want them to pay higher taxes, and guess who paid the price? A recession definitely affects the income of the wealthy and lowers government revenues, but it affects the low-income clients Williams serves even more.

Well-to-do taxpayers have lots of options that don't affect their lifestyles one whit. They can lay off workers, book losses against future tax bills, draw from savings or take capital gains. And the progressive income tax rates on high earners, remember, are historically quite low.

Last year, with the "help" of some tax losses, our combined effective state and federal income tax rate was 13.1%, although our household income put us right on the cusp of the top ten percent of earners in the state. We aren't hurting, and I'd be surprised those making substantially more are, either.

The Private Sector Makes Government Possible.

If you're just joining us, Craig Westover and I started our conversation with this story about social services providers continuing to work through the government shudown, and then we discussed his "first lesson" here.

His original response to my post continued:

The second lesson is about economics and my statement “Government cannot do anything for anybody until it first takes the resources from the private sector that produces the wealth that makes compassion possible.”

Roxanne Williams is able to provide the service she does – even at her own expense – because there are millions of people going to work everyday to produce products and deliver services (and pay taxes) that ultimately provide her the resources (not just money) that make her service possible. These people go to work for their own reasons and not to help low-income parents find daycare.

Yet one of the consequences of their action is Roxanne Williams can provide daycare. Without their effort producing wealth, Roxanne Williams can’t provide daycare.

And my response here starts a second thread in the discussion:

No argument from me, Craig. The nature of government is to fund its activities through taxes. Some of us consider it a duty to pay taxes; some consider taxes theft; and most of us do what we can to keep our personal taxes as low as possible.

Also agreed, we go to work for our own reasons — and for the most part, we are not thinking about others all that much. Even when I show up as a volunteer with preschool children in a homeless shelter, I am not working purely for the children in the room that day. If I did not feel personally rewarded by my efforts, I would do something else.

So far, we're in reasonable alignment with each other. Hooray for everyone who goes to work every day to provide services, create wealth and pay taxes!

Then you say: "Without their effort producing wealth, Roxanne Williams can’t provide daycare." Roxanne Williams, though, is a private contractor. She happens to serve a low-income segment of the market, which receives some subsidy.

So perhaps you meant, without others producing wealth, her poor clients couldn't afford daycare.

Many years ago I interviewed a man who was instrumental in the massive urban renewal effort that erased the Washington Avenue skid row in Minneapolis. What happened to all those people who lived and worked there, I asked.

They just went away, he said, as if that were a satisfactory answer.

That seems to be subtext of what small government advocates call "reform."

You punted my last attempt at this question, but it matters to progressives: "What happens to these low-income families and children if the government gets out of the daycare subsidy business?"