January 29, 2014

I’m sitting down to write this post with a cup of organic green tea and a couple of Pepperidge Farm cookies. The Big Valley is on television. (Remember The Big Valley? It’s really on just for background noise, although Jared is trying a court case that has the whole town all riled up…)

First some random things and then back to the point…

When I was driving home from Starbucks (using the Internet and downing a bonus cappuccino), I saw something in the road in the distance, on the opposite side from where I was. As I got a little closer, I could see that it was a small red fox. A beautiful, brightly rust-colored little red fox. I slowed to take a better look and it just sat in the road, looking at me. Its face had such character, a real spirit. I kept driving because I knew I had just seen a car behind me But seconds later put my foot on the brake…I was thinking about what a nincompoop I was, not to try to make a picture of it! When I checked my rearview mirror, I saw the car quickly approaching and hoped that it too would see the fox. I realized then, that it was too late to make a picture and I regretted that, the whole drive back to Mom’s house. There’s very generally a lot of wild life to see when driving from place to place around here, but that was the first fox I’d seen close enough to greet. Wild turkeys, cranes, deer, pheasant, owls; all crossing the road in front of you or just hanging out in the fields and brush along the roadway. It does make the commute more interesting.

When I pick Harry up from school each day, we like to watch the shadow that the 4Runner makes along the side of the road (the sun is at just the right angle at that time in the afternoon).  We watch it as it whizzes along next to us, disappears into the shadows and reappears. Harry can even see his own shadow in the back seat of the truck. He giggles and asks, “Who is that in our truck, Mommy?”

Today when I was leaving the library, I stopped in the women’s bathroom. There was another woman in there with the contents of her purse strewn along the counter as if she was intently looking for something. She looked up as I entered and immediately said to me, “Maybe you can help me?” I said that I didn’t really know if I could, but asked, “What is it that you need?” She went on to tell me that she was $1.25 short of a cab ride to get home.  I laughed briefly and then realized that I had, and stopped. She looked at me quizzically and I tried to explain, “Well, I lived in a big city for a long time and that is one of the most common scams that people run on the street…they ask for money for the bus, for a broken down car, for a phone call, a quick snack, lots of things." I can’t tell you how many times I was approached on the streets of Boston, and usually I tried to help, even though it probably should have been against my better judgment. If I had a couple of extra bucks on me, I didn’t really mind giving them up, just in case the assumed scam had a bit of truth to it.

I went on to use the bathroom.  She kept talking. And talking. And talking. In just two minutes, I learned that she lived in a nearby town, but was here to help her Grandma and Grandpa who were going through some difficulties and that she couldn’t walk because she had injured her knee, torn some ligaments, I believe. (She later showed me that her knees didn’t look the same through her blue jeans, one appearing much larger than the other.) She talked without stopping, the entire time…while I was in the stall, while I washed and dried my hands. After my hands were dry, I opened my wallet, saying that I thought that I only had about $3 to my name right now. I gave her the $1.25 and wished her luck.  She was still talking when I went out the door.

Heritage display at the Public Library.

When I got to Wal-Mart (my regular, every other day stop to pick up Mango yogurt for Harry), I parked my 4Runner across from a van in what seems to be an always-packed parking lot. The van was empty and not running. There was no one in sight. But the windshield wipers were swishing across the windshield, in regular intervals. I stood there a minute, watching them, and then I laughed…out loud. I still don’t really know why.

I was sitting in the living room last night, listening to the State of the Union address (with my Mother). Harry was dancing around the living room, running back and forth to the kitchen. I listened with heightened interest when I heard the President say “…this Congress needs to restore the unemployment insurance you just let expire for 1.6 million people.”

My ears really perked up as he went on to say, “Let me tell you why.”

And then he told the story of Misty DeMars:

Misty DeMars is a mother of two young boys. She’d been steadily employed since she was a teenager, put herself through college. She’d never collected unemployment benefits, but she’s been paying taxes.

In May, she and her husband used their life savings to buy their first home. A week later, budget cuts claimed the job she loved. Last month, when their unemployment insurance was cut off, she sat down and wrote me a letter, the kind I get every day. “We are the face of the unemployment crisis,” she wrote. “I’m not dependent on the government. Our country depends on people like us who build careers, contribute to society, care about our neighbors. I am confident that in time I will find a job. I will pay my taxes, and we will raise our children in their own home in the community that we love. Please give us this chance.

Change a few simple details, and that story is also my story.

I’ve been working since I was 13 years old. I put myself through college. I’ve never collected unemployment benefits – until now – and I’ve always paid taxes. I chose to have my son Harry as a single parent, who could afford to provide him a bright future. And now I wonder about the future for both of us.

I am the face of the unemployment crisis.

I didn’t just have a job; I had a career. I worked really hard and I was fortunate to be successful. I want that again.

I will build another career; continue to contribute to society, and live in a community that I care about with my son.

And like Misty DeMars, I just need a chance.

My state unemployment benefits expire in a week. Without the restoration of those benefits by Congress, providing a federal extension, I won’t have unemployment insurance either.

So, I’m hoping for that chance soon.

Opportunity.