Forgotten by the Oscars But Not Gone: The Florida Project and Poverty Policy

Joy Moses
Extra Newsfeed
Published in
6 min readFeb 9, 2018

--

Photo Courtesy of Depositphotos

In late January, a number of 2017 movies died. Oscar nominations were announced, narrowing the list of the year’s “best” movies to a precious few. But some of the “not best” movies are worth a second look because they are politically relevant in Trump’s America. Conveniently, they are currently being released for home viewing. One of these films is The Florida Project.

Largely told through the eyes of an adorable six-year-old (Moonee), The Florida Project appeared to be an awards season contender. Writer/Director Sean Baker captured engaging footage from largely first-time actors, some of whom were so young they were still learning their ABCs and how to read. Neither preachy or poverty porn, the film spends nearly two hours focused on literal child’s play. All the while, it expertly illuminates multiple challenges (and policy failures) being experienced by low-income single mothers and their children.

The Oscars largely forgot about The Florida Project. It only received one nomination. Audiences forgot it. It only grossed $5.7 million. However, it’s never too late to remember and discuss it.

#HerToo

One of the few things we learn about Halley (little Moonee’s mother) is that she lost her last job after refusing to perform sexual acts. This kicks off a string of events that put Halley and Moonee at-risk of hunger, life on the streets, and still further sexual abuse and exploitation.

Halley and Moonee’s story is a reflection of the #MeToo movement. They are fictional characters but researchers, including the authors of $2.00 a Day: Living on Almost Nothing in America, have documented the stories of real-life women and children who have experienced abuse rooted in the vulnerabilities of poverty. When you are a child’s sole provider, jobs are hard to quit — even if you’re being sexually harassed. Boyfriends who provide income or housing are difficult to leave — even if they are abusive.

Policy is a problem. Once upon a time, mothers were guaranteed a minimum cash income if they experienced a setback. Clinton-era welfare reform changed all that, slashing program participation by more than 60 percent. While aspects of the system needed to change, something went very wrong. Today it is hard for women like Halley to get welfare (now known as TANF) benefits when they really need them. As a result, Halley’s child was dangerously close to not having a place to sleep or enough food to eat. As a mother, she made increasingly desperate and dangerous moves to fix the situation.

This is an American problem — a problem destined to be made worse by the tax reform bill passed by the GOP last year. The party typically pairs its tax cuts for the rich with spending cuts for low- and middle-income programs. This morning’s budget deal may temporarily prevent cuts. However, the threat still looms as long as leaders like Paul Ryan have “welfare reform” on their agenda and the deficit continues to grow. Children like Moonee will be the ones to suffer.

Moonee Vision

Through Moonee’s eyes, The Florida Project is about a summer spent playing with her friends. Childhood comes with its own brand of joy. Yet, as adult viewers, we know that her life contains challenges that she has yet to fully understand.

She is homeless. For various reasons, the term fits Moonee, Halley, and all the other families living at the motel that is the setting for this story. Occupancy time limits and struggles to pay room fees create a risk of numerous residential moves. Further, motels can’t really be considered “homes” because they are unsuitable for children. Safe places to play, physical space for multiple people, and ways to cook meals are often limited.

Educators worry about the 2.5 million children each year who live in motels, shelters, and other homeless situations. Frequent residential moves often result in frequent school transfers. Learning is disrupted. The stresses of homelessness are reflected in distracted classroom behavior and missed days of school. The federal McKinney-Vento program helps to stabilize school placements and aids schools in serving students like Moonee. However, Congressional funding has always been paltry.

House (Market) Fire

In The Florida Project, homeless families ironically live next door to empty houses. The latter appear to have been abandoned during the foreclosure crisis punctuating the end of the George W. Bush administration. Moonee and her friends dream of someday living in such homes, having their own rooms and enough space to play and grow.

Ultimately, the empty homes catch fire. The destruction mirrors the destruction that has been occurring in the larger housing market over the last couple decades. A foreclosure crisis has been accompanied by an affordability crisis. Low- and middle-income families spend far too much of their incomes on housing. Halley has multiple hustles but is barely able to keep a roof over her head. One of her single mother friends maintains steady work as a waitress. But she is also homeless, living in the same motel as Halley.

Addressing the needs of low-income families would require a lot — 7.4 million new and affordable rental units. Government programs like public housing and housing choice vouchers (aka Section 8) have limited resources. They only reach 25 percent of very low-income renters. Trump and the GOP Congress added fuel to the fire by enacting their recent tax reform legislation. They increased the likelihood of housing program budget cuts and threatened the National Housing Trust Fund. Moonee and other children’s dreams of a real home remain in serious danger.

The Other Welfare

We’ve talked about TANF, the program that provides cash income to mothers experiencing various types of setbacks. Welfare Reforms of the 1990s weakened TANF, burdening a whole other type of welfare — child welfare. Essentially, poverty accompanied by a lack of government aid leads some families into a system that involves court supervision and potential foster care placements.

Child welfare looms large over the mothers in The Florida Project. Moonee has a playmate named Scooty. His mom, a diner waitress, clearly can’t afford formal child care arrangements. Without them, Scooty gets into some trouble that leaves his mother deathly afraid that her child will be taken away. Halley lives with similar fears. When she makes some desperate decisions aimed at sheltering and feeding Moonee, child welfare comes knocking at her door.

It doesn’t have to be this way. Good policies can connect mothers to living wage jobs, child care, affordable housing, and temporary income support in times of emergency. Any of the above would have caused less trauma to Moonee and Scooty. And, realistically, the child welfare system costs money. Government resources can either be directed towards tearing families apart or keeping them together.

Underserving the “Undeserving”

It’s easy to cast stones at Halley. She had a baby early in life. She has been in prison. Arguably, she could better supervise her child. She goes to the club. She uses profanity. Some would say that she is among the undeserving poor, people who simply aren’t good enough to get help from the government (or anyone else).

However, The Florida Project elegantly delves below Halley’s surface. Defining a person’s life is never simple. Halley looks for work but no one will hire someone with a criminal record. She works hard at the side hustle of selling perfume in parking lots. Her jokes and playfulness mask the stresses and desperation of needing to support a family with limited resources. Despite it all, she goes out of her way to create happy experiences not only for her child but other people’s children.

The filmmakers challenge audiences to think twice about good versus bad, deserving versus undeserving. Even if viewers conclude that Halley deserves the stoning, it’s hard to miss the truism that innocent children like Moonee also get hit.

--

--

Joy Moses
Extra Newsfeed

Policy professional, social justice advocate, and entertainment lover. My work can be found at joymoses.com.