On Being P.O.O.R.

I have had to accept some hard truths in my life lately. Some of them are easy, others...not so much. I've been dealing with some financial hardships, but I still manage to get the necessities paid off. I used to sit and be depressed about how much money I didn't have and calling myself poor, but I'm starting to get tired of that. I've decided to change the meaning for myself.

I want to Provide the Oppressed some Optimistic Richness and focus less on that mean green, which is the root of all evil. After watching a video on jw.org about how young people  perceive money, I was super impressed about how they understood how to keep it in its place. After working in a bank for three years, I have a balanced appreciation and a mild grievance towards money. I appreciate my customers sharing their stories and lessons on why they save and how they did it. It's so hard nowadays when the cost of living is going up and our income isn't. I mean, I heard my mother and a couple of other hard-working citizens express their anger about the utilities companies increasing their bills by the hundreds. On paper, I don't even qualify for public assistance because I "allegedly" have stable income and can afford to make hundred payments on living expenses. Rent is my most expensive payment as low as it is (Thanks to Jah). After my insurance payments, some credit card accounts, and consolidation plan, I pretty much break even. Yet, as a writer with two jobs, my perception has changed. I'm don't struggle, I hustle.

With the independence I have, I am learning more to provide for myself. After my father's unexpected passing during my adolescence, my mother stepped up and taught me what my father couldn't. She taught me to be self-sufficient. After my prom, she had me up and 8am chopping trees while she was charging up the chain saw. I joke about this constantly, but I am also grateful that she was tough like a father and still gentle when she needed to be. What most people don't understand about my upbringing is that my mother didn't become a single parent by choice. Most studies and research always focus on the absence of the father in Black families but never analyze why. Was it an untimely death, as in my situation? Did the father walk out? Maybe the mother or legal guardian legally forbade the fathers' rights to commnicating with his kids. There is always a reason. If you can create a philosophy or theory on these topics, you can dig a little deeper, don't leave us stuck in the hole.

So now you have this single, Black twenty-seven year old woman with well-earned college debt trying to nagivate the world with her Bible and her mother's wisdom, and society is shocked. Why?  Stereotypically, I should have some sort of problem with a drug or something selfish, living in the projects and have a high volume of sexual activity, and possibly a baby. I would love to clarify this:

• There is nothing wrong with living in the projects. I was raised to believe and understand that it didn't matter if you lived in a mansion, small house, apartment building or trailer, as long as you weren't living in a cardboard box on the street, you were ok.
• Everybody on this earth has at least three problems, even the financially rich individuals. You either don't have enough money or you just want more of it. Will you ever be content?
• I wrote this in a previous post, but it bears repeating. I actually had a person tell me with a straight face, "I thought all Black girls had a lot of sex after high school." What lesson did this teach me? No amount of money can write off pure, blatant ignorance.

These economic hardships could be the death of me, but I can't let that happen. There is so much to look forward to and learn. There are spiritual treasures waiting to be learned and taught. My sister helped me learn of my Sudanese origin, and I want to know more. I got to get some traveling done. Besides, this life we're living isn't the real life. Something better awaits us...

Photo courtesy of Crystal Lake Patch.