As horrific as the author’s life was, she had grown up in the suburbs, was white, and had a plan to escape her poverty which included going to college. This increased her odds of success. She is wealthy today. “I had grown up in the suburbs—a privilege that perhaps created my confidence that things would get better… Many of my decisions came from an assumption that things would, eventually, start to improve.”
Poverty came with many negative assumptions. “I’d attended a three-hour seminar on how to use electricity most efficiently. The information was so redundant and common-sense, … learning how to turn off the lights was required in order to receive a grant for $400 of heating fuel. More and more, I got the feeling that people who needed government assistance were assumed to be a very uneducated bunch and were treated accordingly.” Also, “It seemed like no matter how much I tried to prove otherwise, “poor” was always associated with dirty.” And, “Anyone who used food stamps didn’t work hard enough or made bad decisions to put them in that lower-class place. It was like people thought it was on purpose and that we cheated the system, stealing the money they paid toward taxes to rob the government of funds. More than ever, it seemed, taxpayers—including my client—thought their money subsidized food for lazy poor people.”
People who listen say, “I don’t know how you do it.”
Many people offered direct charity, but these small gifts didn’t address the real problems of living in poverty. “Accepting their small token—a new pair of gloves, a toy—in their impulse to feel good. But there wasn’t any way to put “health care” or “childcare” on a list.”
The author benefited from knowing how to advocate for herself. “By filling out several forms, I finally convinced them to lower my bill through a program they offered for low-income patients. All I had to do was call and ask. It always struck me that programs like that were never mentioned.”
Useless advice from the doctor, “Then you need to move.” “I can’t,” I said, putting my hand on Mia’s leg. “I can’t afford anything else.” “Well,” she said, nodding at Mia, “she needs you to do better.”
Like J.K. Rowling Stephanie went from poverty
to wealth through her writing.
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