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sherron0So, did I mention 2 hours at DHR?
. I was way too nice, much nicer than what comes naturally to me, because one of the big things i'm trying to teach Shelby is patience, self-control, etc. So there we are in waiting room full of people who are completely at the mercy of DHR, and who are definitely being treated that way. And they have no obvious way to know that I am one of those tax paying citizens not only paying their wages, but making possible what little they are doing for those other people that clearly don't matter to them at all.
While there are some really good-hearted, dedicated people at DHR, on the foster care side, I have to remember it's the same agency that gives out foodstamps and WIC, and takes people's kids away, and feels in no way obligated to treat these people as human.
So, even though I had called Alicia (the social worker for Shelby, who, bless her well-intentioned heart, has too many kids—cases, and just isn't well organized, and besides, can't be much older than Shelby) and told her what we needed (one purchase order for clothing for Shelby), and that we could come to pick it up. So we get there, and sign in, which, of course, means I say my name 3 times, and spell my name twice. No one ever gets it right. I tell her we're here to see Alicia. She tells me she'll inform Alicia. We sit. And sit. and watch other people sit. and watch other people be treated badly. And all the while, I'm telling Shelby, be calm. Next thing, I know, It's been an hour. I start to look for Alicia's cell # to call and ask her if she's even in the building. Of course, I can't find it. A girl next to us, who got there an hour before us, started a conversation, commiserating, and we talk, and another hour passes. Now it's nigh on four o'clock, and I know government people start shutting themselves down and getting their purses so they can be in the parking lot by 5. I go to the front desk, and (after standing there while she answered 3 different phone calls, one really long,) ask if Alicia is even in the building, because we'd been sitting out there for two hours now and just needed one piece of paper, that's all. I even wondered aloud if Alicia could have left it up front. I am extremely nice. So said government employee begins to look around, and shuffles some papers and crap there on the desk, and finds an envelope. Did you say Sherron ... uh, uh (no one ever wants to try Ostrander, even tho its pronounced exactly like it looks —Oh strand er. If we just spelled it O'Strander, everyone would get it right). I take pity, have mercy, and say my whole name for her. She says, "Here it is!" I just thank her and take my envelope and get the hell out of there. I know there was no reason to be mean to her, it wouldn't matter, she might not even work there next week, and besides, I'm sure she's convinced that she's completely blameless.
Alicia, however, who is coming to my house for the required monthly visit, heard from me. Again, in a perfectly nice, even gentle way, even though she was an hour late, and didn't even call me to tell me she'd be late until she was a full half hour late, only to tell me she's be here in 15 minutes which were actually 30. I just channeled Grandmother. I invited her in, offered her refreshment, allowed her the first few questions, which I knew would include one about how the clothes shopping went. "Wonderful, we were able to get several more things than I expected because of the great sale they were having. It was a great idea to leave the voucher at the front so we could just pick it up. . . or would have been if you'd told someone." (Say, for instance me.) Of course, it wasn't her fault either, she's sure she told them, and told them to watch for me, etc, etc, etc. I told her they even told me they were calling back there to tell her we were there. "Oh, well, the phone system's been crazy." So no follow through, no effort to actually get the message to Alicia (assuming she is telling the truth, which she must be, or at least she believes what shes saying, because I'm pretty good judge of that stuff. And I could tell immediately when she had lied to Shelby earlier.) And no concern from Alicia that's she's not getting messages, and definitely no apology.
.
So anyway, I got a harsh reminder of what it's like being on the desperate end of the socio-economic end of the scale. How it feels to have nobodies at a government agency trample on you just because they can. To be told "No" and "wait over there" because that's all that government worker has the power to tell you, to sit in a very questionably clean lobby on wobbly plastic chairs, because you're obviously not important enough to even sweep for, much less use a clean mop for. And what really scared me is that I fell right into my designated place. The oppresive atmosphere just convinces you that there's no hope, that you truly are at least unimportant, if not downright sub-human.
And now I feel even more strongly that the government IS NOT NOT NOT who should be trusted to help the poor. Everyone who wants the government to distribute their tax dollars to benefit the poor should be forced to sit for an afternoon in a waiting room at DHR, and see exactly how well the government does that.
Oh, and from the brief visits recently to a government mental health center and a government health department (which is, for some reason also where they distribute WIC vouchers), please let me assure you that DHR is not an abberation. In fact, the health department was definitley worse, and definitely not clean enough that I wanted touch anything. Luckily, since I was just picking up a record that I had called ahead for, and had established with the doctor in question that the immunization record would indeed be waiting at the front desk, I only had to wait in line for about 20 minutes and convince two people that the record was already up there, in their accordian file, under O (so they could have a third person search everywhere but the big, obvious accordian file), and I did not need to be sent to the chairs that everyone in front of me had been sent to. really. Just let me have my little piece of paper and they could completely forget me.
Yes, are these the really the people you want to trust with even more money? And is this really how you want them to "help" the unfortunate?
Especially when there are so many fine organizations doing the job so much better that there's no comparison, and that these people can do it without stripping away people's dignity? Like the Catholic and Baptist and Methodist churches? (I'm sure there are many other denominations, those are just the three I'm very familiar with.) Like the Salvation Army? The Red Cross? Habitat for Humanity? The hundreds of other charities, small local ones and large organized ones? Did you know that the Catholic hospitals used to do everything the health departments did until the government regulated them right out of it? I think we should be allowed to designate where a certain portion of our tax money goes, DHR, or someone actually doing it right. (I know, tax break for donations, blah blah, 30¢ back for every dollar you donate BFD. I mean a portion of the part that we are FORCED to give so that the government programs can be so badly run.)
Do people really want to help the less priveldged, or would they just rather not think about them and let Big Brother take their money and pretend to use it for good?
Sorry if you find this offensive, but only if you've been there.
. I was way too nice, much nicer than what comes naturally to me, because one of the big things i'm trying to teach Shelby is patience, self-control, etc. So there we are in waiting room full of people who are completely at the mercy of DHR, and who are definitely being treated that way. And they have no obvious way to know that I am one of those tax paying citizens not only paying their wages, but making possible what little they are doing for those other people that clearly don't matter to them at all.
While there are some really good-hearted, dedicated people at DHR, on the foster care side, I have to remember it's the same agency that gives out foodstamps and WIC, and takes people's kids away, and feels in no way obligated to treat these people as human.
So, even though I had called Alicia (the social worker for Shelby, who, bless her well-intentioned heart, has too many kids—cases, and just isn't well organized, and besides, can't be much older than Shelby) and told her what we needed (one purchase order for clothing for Shelby), and that we could come to pick it up. So we get there, and sign in, which, of course, means I say my name 3 times, and spell my name twice. No one ever gets it right. I tell her we're here to see Alicia. She tells me she'll inform Alicia. We sit. And sit. and watch other people sit. and watch other people be treated badly. And all the while, I'm telling Shelby, be calm. Next thing, I know, It's been an hour. I start to look for Alicia's cell # to call and ask her if she's even in the building. Of course, I can't find it. A girl next to us, who got there an hour before us, started a conversation, commiserating, and we talk, and another hour passes. Now it's nigh on four o'clock, and I know government people start shutting themselves down and getting their purses so they can be in the parking lot by 5. I go to the front desk, and (after standing there while she answered 3 different phone calls, one really long,) ask if Alicia is even in the building, because we'd been sitting out there for two hours now and just needed one piece of paper, that's all. I even wondered aloud if Alicia could have left it up front. I am extremely nice. So said government employee begins to look around, and shuffles some papers and crap there on the desk, and finds an envelope. Did you say Sherron ... uh, uh (no one ever wants to try Ostrander, even tho its pronounced exactly like it looks —Oh strand er. If we just spelled it O'Strander, everyone would get it right). I take pity, have mercy, and say my whole name for her. She says, "Here it is!" I just thank her and take my envelope and get the hell out of there. I know there was no reason to be mean to her, it wouldn't matter, she might not even work there next week, and besides, I'm sure she's convinced that she's completely blameless.
Alicia, however, who is coming to my house for the required monthly visit, heard from me. Again, in a perfectly nice, even gentle way, even though she was an hour late, and didn't even call me to tell me she'd be late until she was a full half hour late, only to tell me she's be here in 15 minutes which were actually 30. I just channeled Grandmother. I invited her in, offered her refreshment, allowed her the first few questions, which I knew would include one about how the clothes shopping went. "Wonderful, we were able to get several more things than I expected because of the great sale they were having. It was a great idea to leave the voucher at the front so we could just pick it up. . . or would have been if you'd told someone." (Say, for instance me.) Of course, it wasn't her fault either, she's sure she told them, and told them to watch for me, etc, etc, etc. I told her they even told me they were calling back there to tell her we were there. "Oh, well, the phone system's been crazy." So no follow through, no effort to actually get the message to Alicia (assuming she is telling the truth, which she must be, or at least she believes what shes saying, because I'm pretty good judge of that stuff. And I could tell immediately when she had lied to Shelby earlier.) And no concern from Alicia that's she's not getting messages, and definitely no apology.
.
So anyway, I got a harsh reminder of what it's like being on the desperate end of the socio-economic end of the scale. How it feels to have nobodies at a government agency trample on you just because they can. To be told "No" and "wait over there" because that's all that government worker has the power to tell you, to sit in a very questionably clean lobby on wobbly plastic chairs, because you're obviously not important enough to even sweep for, much less use a clean mop for. And what really scared me is that I fell right into my designated place. The oppresive atmosphere just convinces you that there's no hope, that you truly are at least unimportant, if not downright sub-human.
And now I feel even more strongly that the government IS NOT NOT NOT who should be trusted to help the poor. Everyone who wants the government to distribute their tax dollars to benefit the poor should be forced to sit for an afternoon in a waiting room at DHR, and see exactly how well the government does that.
Oh, and from the brief visits recently to a government mental health center and a government health department (which is, for some reason also where they distribute WIC vouchers), please let me assure you that DHR is not an abberation. In fact, the health department was definitley worse, and definitely not clean enough that I wanted touch anything. Luckily, since I was just picking up a record that I had called ahead for, and had established with the doctor in question that the immunization record would indeed be waiting at the front desk, I only had to wait in line for about 20 minutes and convince two people that the record was already up there, in their accordian file, under O (so they could have a third person search everywhere but the big, obvious accordian file), and I did not need to be sent to the chairs that everyone in front of me had been sent to. really. Just let me have my little piece of paper and they could completely forget me.
Yes, are these the really the people you want to trust with even more money? And is this really how you want them to "help" the unfortunate?
Especially when there are so many fine organizations doing the job so much better that there's no comparison, and that these people can do it without stripping away people's dignity? Like the Catholic and Baptist and Methodist churches? (I'm sure there are many other denominations, those are just the three I'm very familiar with.) Like the Salvation Army? The Red Cross? Habitat for Humanity? The hundreds of other charities, small local ones and large organized ones? Did you know that the Catholic hospitals used to do everything the health departments did until the government regulated them right out of it? I think we should be allowed to designate where a certain portion of our tax money goes, DHR, or someone actually doing it right. (I know, tax break for donations, blah blah, 30¢ back for every dollar you donate BFD. I mean a portion of the part that we are FORCED to give so that the government programs can be so badly run.)
Do people really want to help the less priveldged, or would they just rather not think about them and let Big Brother take their money and pretend to use it for good?
Sorry if you find this offensive, but only if you've been there.
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no subject
Date: 2008-11-22 06:35 am (UTC)I hope Shelby had something to read...
no subject
Date: 2008-11-22 08:47 am (UTC)I grok what you say about the government and the stupidity of large organizations. They are only as functional as their lowest common denominator, and goodness knows the world (and the government) is full of petty, small-minded, bitter, mean people. When they are put in positions of power, it isn't right what they do to others.
But with all respect, what then do you suggest as an alternative solution to help the poor in our society, if you don't think the government has the ability to do it? Because the world is so full of mean and selfish people, I don't think we can have any better hope of people doing it on their own. And incidences like Haliburton and the recent financial crisis prove that there is no limit to the selfish greed of those who already have more wealth than they know what to do with. Is there a way to help those in need effectively and consistently? I hope? Somewhere?
-Samazon
no subject
Date: 2008-11-23 01:45 am (UTC)Did you read under the cut? There are plenty of fine organizations doing a much better job (and in the case of the Catholics, probably on a larger scale, since they are doing it world-wide).
And yes, I think if the government would get the fuck out of their way, there would be plenty of GOOD people, who +want+ to be doing what they're doing, out there, doing it well.
Don't moan at me about all those greedy meanies who wouldn't give a dime if the government didn't make them. I have met about 3 of those in my life, and 1,000's of people like me, who would give whatever they had. Lots who would give more if the government weren't forcing us to give to programs like those I've experienced this month. Look around you? What's the ratio of those people in your life?
Mark was laid off in 1992, along with 2,999 other Engineers ––in one town—— from GE. Mark spent 3 months groveling and being humiliated trying to get unemployment, and finally received some after about 6 months, after he'd moved us 3 states away and gotten another job (he felt so abused and demeaned and angry that he was going to send the money back and tell them to shove it us their collective... Well, anyway, cooler heads prevailed). In the mean time, EVERY person or family we knew (except of course for all those others in our same position) offered us some sort of help. Money, or free babysitting so I could work more, or a surprise dinner, or help selling our house, or asking us to move in with them if it came to that, or a temporary job, or came and packed us up, or let the kids stay in the co-op preschool for free, or called this person or that person in rocket science who might have or know of a job, or . . . whatever they could do, they did.
The world is full of those kinds of people, and some others who may be on the fence about giving, but think the government is taking care of it.