Thus began a diatribe of judgmental opinions openly accusing “those people” of using “our hard-earned tax dollars” to buy lobster and steak instead of spending wisely. Of using their benefits card to purchase alcohol and cigarettes instead of actual food. Of making more money selling drugs on a street corner than the rest of us working a real job, then taking advantage of the system because they can.
This, of course, lead to a discussion of why “these people” can’t just go get jobs and work for a living like everyone else. For example, they can’t get a real job until they get through rehab, because, you know, “those people” are all drug addicts and alcoholics.
The consensus tends to be that people who receive public assistance are lazy, ignorant and feel entitled. They don’t really need help, but are just being greedy and taking what they can get. They don’t bother working because, why should they? The state will take care of them. “These people” are just freeloaders who are taking advantage of hard-working people. It’s disgusting.
As I sat quietly listening to the vitriol, I realized my family and I are “those people.” The people I was sitting with just didn’t know it.
They didn’t know it because we don’t advertise our situation. I felt like I was deceiving everyone.
My husband wrestles with (MMD) Major Depressive Disorder and (GAD) General Anxiety Disorder and has been unable to work outside the house in several years. Prior to that, he worked 40-60 hours or more per week to bring home enough money for us to live on. Now, he also wrestles with Social Security Disability because some days he can’t leave his bed, let alone the house.
My 10-year-old stepson was finally diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome last year, in addition to severe ADHD, and we are finally starting to learn how to reach him. He rarely has outbursts that result in physical harm, to either him or others, anymore, but he still has days where he just completely melts down. Because he’s different, the other kids treat him differently. Some tease and make fun of him. Some ignore him. Some just think he’s weird. But he notices all of it and doesn’t understand it.
My 5-year-old daughter had her life turned upside down when her stepsiblings moved in. She’s been trying to understand and adjust to that for two years. She doesn’t understand that, although her brother and sister do it, it is not okay to scream, throw things, slam doors and be rude or mean when you are angry. They’re still learning this despite their ages. So she imitates everything they do. She idolizes her big brother who can’t tell when what he’s saying or doing is mean or impolite.
I do as much as I can, but some days it’s hard to get out of bed myself. I have fibromyalgia, as well as PTSD and depression. I get severe migraines that make it hard to think, but easy to vomit. I went back to school to get my Bachelor’s Degree in business at nearly 40 years old. I graduated with a 3.4 GPA, and I was very proud of my accomplishment. Until the university I attended came under fire for questionable practices. Now my degree is virtually worthless. But that’s okay, but cause if I had a traditional, 40-hour per week job, I wouldn’t be able to step in when my husband is having a “bad day.” Or take the time I need when my body hurts so bad I can’t move. Or volunteer at the school so I can be available when my stepson gets out of control. Or email several times per day with my stepdaughter’s teachers, guidance counselor, therapists and coaches to try to stay ahead of her anxiety and stop her before she cuts herself again.
My husband and I work from home in an attempt to provide what we can for our family. It’s not much, and the income is sometimes unreliable, but it gives us the flexibility to work around our other limitations. We’ve managed to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table with the help of SNAP benefits, insurance and food banks. All five of us are in therapy each week, both individually and as a group. We’re learning to cope, but it’s taking time – a lot of time.
So I sat with all this on my mind and listened to these people, my “peers,” pass judgement on “those people,” and I was ashamed, because I realized I was “those people.” They couldn’t distinguish between society’s stereotype and the reality that many families are struggling to make ends meet, not because they are lazy, or addicts, or feel entitled. But because the economy tanked a few years back, and life has been hard for everyone. Most people are one step away from our situation but they can’t imagine living as we do because they’re not one of “those people.”
Take a step back, people. Take a good look at the people around you. “Those people” are everywhere and your judgement doesn’t help them regain their foothold on life. It simply pushes the further down and holds them there.
Don’t judge. Help.
If you would like to surround yourself with an amazing group of women who are working their butts off to lift each other up instead of break each other down, then make a MOMMITMENT.
Mommitment is a movement started by one woman who was tired of having her life and her parenting criticized by people who weren’t walking in her shoes. She is amazing and has given so many women a safe place to be human. Thank you, Julie.
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