WWJD: What Would ‘Jana’ Do?
Seriously, what are her options?
She’s begging for money — again. Desperately. The motel franchise is pressuring the local manager to get money from “Jana” or kick her out. She’s hundreds in the hole, and will be there again next week, until she can get what she’s entitled to. How she’s managed to hang on this long is beyond me.
Jana, unexpectedly widowed in February 2023, has learned the hard way the penalty for not crossing her “t”s and dotting her “i”s. She and her common-law partner didn’t formalize their arrangements. His sudden death literally tossed her to the streets.
I’ve followed the saga as this woman in her mid-50s and her little dog are eking out an existence in southwest Alabama in all kinds of hellish weather. Living for months in her car, she finally had to succumb and scrape up money for a motel room while she navigated the swirly-whirly process of getting some kind of regular income. Even the no-tell-motels are expensive, $300–700 a week is the norm, especially in-season.
Severe health issues haunt her, and worsen with each day of heat and stress. Lack of housing and health care doesn’t help. While one might think a motel room provides a sense of security, I’ll assure you that you’re mistaken.
Security comes from having money.
She doesn’t have it, and has to relentlessly beg on social media. She’s long ago lost her pride or what remained of her dignity, which crumbled when her partner’s sons maneuvered her out of the house she’s entitled to and virtually severed any possible financial ties to his modest estate.
Jana’s stalwart determination has kept her in the fight. She astutely figured out what she needed to do to get widow’s benefits. She knew she’d need access to health care for her chronic and serious issues, and applied for that, too. I could wear you out with the details of her sagas to get these common sense survival benefits, but suffice to say she’s doing everything she can.
Spending time in her hot car with her faithful little dog (southern Alabama has humidity and heat that will kill you and your dog), she crafted a plan to sell her car to buy a cheaper one, surfing the wave of financial risk to survive. She’s stooped into the netherworld of legalized shady loan shops. She’s bared her broke soul on Facebook. It’s ugly. But she’s still in the arena.
A big part of the problem for Jana and countless others like her is the time it takes to qualify and finally receive disability payments. Red tape, sluggish bureaucracy, and systemic dysfunction add to the challenges which will kill you even if you manage to survive blistering ‘Bama. The little and expensive logistics — renting a post office box, finding a printer, driving to appointments, finding trustworthy and affordable mechanics, etc. — have been daunting. I don’t do justice to her copious struggles.
My decades of work in homelessness have given me insights into what it takes to get out of the vortex. It’s vindicating to see experiments with Universal Basic Income, like in Denver, confirm that having money keeps people out of homelessness.
I understand why Jana and millions more are mired in dysfunction with no place to call home. Ironically, since Jana is theoretically paying for her own room, she’s not considered homeless. And the “largesse” she’s managed to scrounge up could impact her qualification for disability payments. She needs a lawyer skilled in navigating the rocky shoals of disability benefits. They’re hard to find.
Few can imagine the stress her survival has created. Her physical and mental health continue to significantly erode. The financial hole she’s in gets deeper each day. Her flagging hope holds onto a thread based on getting her disability status approved and check in hand before she completely gives out.
Seriously. When you do everything you can do to get yourself the help you need to survive and you’re still in a 20’ hole with a 10’ ladder, WWJD?
As I was typing this, I heard from one of our Melissas. She doesn’t want to beg, and offered to do any job I’d ask her to do as best she can with her ailing body. Her meager child support income doesn’t begin to provide support for her and her daughter. She’s not going to rank high on a potential employer’s hiring roster because of her major health issues. (Do you detect a theme here?)
When a heatwave bears down on vulnerable people, air conditioning is essential. Or they get severely ill and require hospital care. Do you see the problem here? She’s not alone. Our limited funds make it possible for me to help her (an advance on her book sales).
If you’re inclined to help Jana or the Melissas, make your tax-exempt donation to HEAR US. 100% will go to them. I’m truly sorry that I cannot consider other requests for assistance.
I’ll close with this:
While the wealthy continue to amass their riches, more and more of the non-wealthy are legitimately and through no fault of their own falling into this abyss of poverty. Like Jana. And the Melissas. And millions more. Maybe even you.
We can’t dig our way out of this hole, but we can vote for the candidates who have some understanding of, and commitment to, poverty eradication.
We’ve got a bang-up book coming out later this summer! The Three Melissas — The Practical Guide to Surviving Family Homelessness will give you first-hand insights into what moms go through when experiencing homelessness. Not sugar coated. Sugar’s bad for us.
