Poor...me?

I have learned quite a few lessons about poverty since beginning my term as a VISTA. I'd like to share two that I learned firsthand this week. Keep reading.

As you know, I've been struggling with my driver's side car door for quite some time now. Back in September, the door handle started sticking, making it very difficult to open the door. I was lucky that I had a training near Urbana, so I stopped by to have my dad take a look at it on my way home. He knows my car inside and out, so he fixed it that day--but about a week later, the handle was stuck again, and this time it was broken. I spent the next few weeks mastering the art of leaning across the passenger's side to push open my door from the inside. But at Shared Harvest, it never failed that I was always parked on a slope causing my door to fall shut when I tried to push it open. It was this exercise in gravity that caused me to start entering my car by crawling into the passenger's side and over the console into the driver's seat.

The acrobat act was getting old, so we decided to have the car fixed. We took the car to a GM dealer (my car is a 1995 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme), and for $90 we found out that yep...the car handle is broken. We were this close to having the replacement part ($300) ordered and installed (another $90) when my dad said STOP! He could fix it for $25. We canceled the order and waited for the opportunity to get the car to my dad so he could work his little voodoo car magic.

This past Monday my mom took the day off to come visit me and to work on wedding stuff. When she left, she drove my car home to my dad and left her car with me. Ah, finally, a working car door! My back was grateful, but my feet were not--part of the arrangement required me to park as far away as possible from other cars that could ding and tarnish the car's pristine doors. Anyway, my dad kept the car for a few days, talked with mechanic friends, then ordered and installed a much cheaper part (indeed, $25). At the end of the day Friday, he and I left our respective jobs, got on I-75, and met at a halfway point between Fairfield and Urbana to exchange our vehicles.

At first I was very excited to see my old friend, that is, until my dad gave me a report on its behavior. Apparently, the little grunting sound my car makes every once in a while is an indication that my rear struts have snapped. And yes, for all you non-mechanical people out there, that's as bad and dangerous as it sounds. The diagnosis--fix this thing immediately. Oh and while you're at it, he added, the car seems to struggle accelerating, especially on the interstate. Better check/replace the spark plugs. You might as well check out other ignition parts.

Oh, brother. The point of this story was not to get all technical about my beloved car. Besides, I really have no idea what I'm talking about--I've stolen these bits from my dad's jargon-laden explanation today. But it was to show you a couple of things:

1. When your income is limited, necessary expenses are painful.
Obviously, I have to have a car--it's my only practical mode of transportation to do what I do. (Imagine biking 100 miles to an OBB training.) But that doesn't change the fact that a couple hundred dollars for a repair is any less difficult to face. People with money--people in the middle class and up--might be annoyed that their car is in the shop or that they have an unexpected expense, but they'll take care of the problem without much of a second thought because they have to. But people in poverty agonize over expenses like this--and they'll do exactly what we did to pay as little as possible for service, which leads me to my next point...

2. People in poverty really have to rely on relationships to meet basic needs.
Let's face it. Without my dad, we'd be down about $400, plus whatever these new expenses will cost, all to keep a very necessary part of life in tact: transportation. My mom and dad have been very generous to exchange vehicles for a week and fix my car to save us a big expense, even at the cost of their own comfort.
With this second round of expenses coming up, my dad has done quite a bit of research to help keep our costs down. Later this morning, we'll be going to a reputable mechanic that many people at Shared Harvest have recommended. Being completely unknowledgable about cars, though, my dad will look out for me by talking to the mechanic via phone about the car's condition. And if the cost is too high here, he'll connect with one of his mechanic friends in Urbana to keep our costs as low as possible.

Of course, I'm lucky that my relationship with my parents is a healthy one. Unfortunately, many people in poverty are involved in abusive relationships, but can not break them off because they rely on them to meet basic needs. Once again, it is this small, yet major, distinction that makes me a mere interloper in poverty.

Nonetheless, today could be rather costly for this low-income household.