“I can’t afford to move out of the neighborhood where my son was shot.”
Latriya was taking care of her daughter with nonverbal autism when she got the call: her son had been shot. He’d been driving around their neighborhood; a wrong place, wrong time incident that left him hospitalized. Now, in addition to taking care of her autistic teenage daughter, Latriya had a wounded son. But for Latriya, making a way out of “no way” is her norm.
“I was lucky to have my sister, a nurse, help me care for my son. I’m so grateful that he survived. But I really want to move us out of this neighborhood. On my wages, we can’t live where I want. I’m afraid to walk my daughter around the neighborhood. I’m forced to drive outside my neighborhood just to get her to a safe location to walk.”
But Latria is patient. It’s something she prides herself on…
She focuses on her family. When the COVID lockdown began, Latriya and her daughter, Taragi, had to quickly adjust to school over Zoom. Those first days, in particular, were difficult. Taragi struggled to focus. But Latriya pushed on, talking Taragi through what was going on, step by step, assignment by assignment, until Taragi gradually adjusted. Over the coming days, Taragi felt comfortable enough to not need persuading to go to class.
Latriya earns barely above minimum wage. She’s a single mother and the sole breadwinner. It was hard to get by before the pandemic. It was hard to get by before inflation and gas prices began skyrocketing. And caring for Taragi is more than a full-time job.
Latriya wakes up at 7:30 a.m. to wash Taragi’s face, brush her teeth, make them breakfast, feed Taragi, and get her dressed for the day. Zoom classes start at eight-thirty, and the long day begins.
…yet the frustration is real.
Latriya has a degree — and dreams of a career — in Public Health. It’s discouraging that she can’t find work in that field. For one thing, the IHSS program doesn’t provide the care hours that her daughter requires. In other words, though Latriya works full-time caring for her daughter, she isn’t paid for all those hours, nor is she able to bring in another caregiver, which could allow Latriya to pursue her career while knowing Taragi was safely cared for.
“I dream of building my career. At the same time — I know it’s obvious to say — but I do this for my daughter. And this is more than a full-time job, so I can’t imagine how I’d leave her to go out and look for a second job. Who would care for her? The too-few hours and low wages are sort of a trap. It’s frustrating — I have this degree that I can’t use.”
Despite the constant hardship, Latriya remains hopeful for Taragi’s sake. She knows that her daughter is depending on her for a brighter future, and Latriya is determined to give her that.
“At the end of the day, I want my daughter to perform on the same level as other 15-year-olds, and I want to get as much knowledge as I can to help her live a happy, healthy life. I’m coping. I have to be strong for my kids. I don’t have a choice. I have to be strong.”
That’s why Latriya and other IHSS providers in Los Angeles County are speaking out and supporting their Union’s Time for $20 campaign to establish a living wage floor in the industry. Learn more at https://www.seiu2015.org/timefor20/.
