This is a two part comic about Lily, a character who carries some autobiographical stories, observations from my work with community leaders living in affordable housing and daydreams about a reimagined world.
When I first started a family, my financial resources were limited. I was making so little month to month that I qualified for food stamps, but I never had the time between juggling multiple part-time jobs to keep up with the frequent recertifications.
Fortunately for me, I worked for food providers, grocery stores and farms - and while the pay wasn’t great, the food was plentiful.
While working as a community builder for an affordable housing provider, I saw this time and time again: hard working single moms trying so hard to keep their benefits, but not having the time between low-wage jobs to make appointments. Applications sent, were sometimes deemed late and benefits were threatened. requiring additional certification, phone call holds, and meetings.
And even those lucky enough to receive benefits, it rarely stretched far enough to cover all the needs of the month. Some things were hard to put on paper, like when a child’s father, or boyfriend or best friend was unhoused and dependent on their care.
And when resources fell short, as they always did, something had to give. Almost every time - it was the parents, often a single mom, going hungry.
On the other side of Lily Works is the dignity of spending resources for pleasure. It is so easy to judge someone who looks like they shouldn’t be able to afford nails, a latte, even a pack of cigarettes.
One hot summer day, my four-year-old son had a handful of change and asked if I would take him to the convenience store to buy some candy. Always seeking independence, I let him go inside by himself while I watched from the car. It was taking him longer than I had expected, and I had to fight the urge to interrupt his experience. Just when I was about to give in, he came out behind two older men in ragged clothes. They hopped into a rundown truck. “Goodbye kid” they called, and he replied, “thanks so much!”
His hands were full with candy. When I asked what had taken so long, he explained his change wasn’t enough, and the men behind him bought all the candy.
He still had his pocket full of change.
I think of those men sometimes, the generosity of people who may not have much to spare, but saw a little boy come up short at counter and covered his bill.
During my years working as a community builder, I saw versions of that same generosity again and again. When financial resources are scarce, caring for one another becomes not just necessary, but deeply dignified: neighbors sharing childcare, food, celebrations, rides, time and whatever else they have to give. The brightest communities grow from the people who believe that what they have is enough to share.
All we have is each other.
Even from a distance, we have each other. :-)
In hindsight, I wish the board had allocated Rebecka-time for heartfelt and realistic "stories" like this. We all knew why we did what we did and why we were there, but profound purpose and meaning was sometimes lost in the decision-making process. There was never a time when it wouldn't have been helpful. All we have is each other. Thank you Rebecka...