National Missing Children Day

May 25^th, 2010 is National Missing Children’s Day.

I encourage those of you who have, are close to, or work with kids to check out the following resources to educate yourselves, friends, and most importantly, the youth in your life, about youth safety:

• 25 Ways to Make Kids Safer is a pdf that you can print out and share with others.
  
• National Center for Missing and Exploited Children
  
• National Safe Place
  
• National Runaway Switchboard

Please feel free to contact me if you'd like more information about youth safety. I don't believe in living an alarmist lifestyle - but knowledge is the ultimate weapon against fear.

Taxes

I found filling out my taxes to be decidedly more difficult this year than last year. Today my stress paid off and my tax return was deposited to my bank account.

There's now more money in my account than there has been in almost a year. It was strange to see that much money. But even stranger because it didn't feel like the windfall I was expecting it to feel like; it's still less money than one paycheck from my old job.

Part of the reason I'm not continuing with AmeriCorps is my need to become more financially stable. See: "Study finds median wealth for single black women at $5" for the source of some of my concern. I have negative wealth right now, thanks to credit card and student loan debt. Earning money is the only way I'm going to reverse my current financial state, especially I look to return to school.

What is difficult is trying to accept that I'm entering a job market which is at a different place than it was my first time around. It's only been a few years! A lot happens in a few years. Gaining experience is my new number one priority, which means I may continue to live at near-poverty (1st World level poverty) until I finish my Masters degree and will hopefully be qualified for more well-paying jobs. I say that after a year of doing AmeriCorps, I am well prepared for living on a tight budget...I hope this is true. I hope a part of myself wasn't waiting to exhale, waiting to go and start spending money more freely again.

The times are a changin' and it may mean tightening my belt just little bit more...and not getting too comfortable with my bank balance.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Being a Doorman

Originally posted at Safety Net For Youth Blog.

In his "I See the Promised Land" speech, Martin Luther King, Jr. expounded on the famous Biblical parable known as the "Good Samaritan" and had this to say:

[T]he first question that the Levite asked was, "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: "If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?".

I have spent a lot of time waxing philosophical to any who will listen about the impact that joining AmeriCorps has had on my life; I quit a job I genuinely enjoyed, left the big City, my friends, my apartment, the life I had built for myself and traded it for a car that b/rarely works, a miniscule income, a strange town, and a profound sense of uncertainty. I can even go on and on about why I did it: restlessness, a desire to give back, my passion for education, an urge to reprioritize my life. But at the end of the day, I have to remind myself that these things really shouldn't matter very much.

The week before this past Christmas, I found myself in Homeward Bound's rec room, a guest at a party that was being thrown by a group of community members for the youth staying in the shelter. The space was full of people: employees, kids, volunteers, cheer-bringers. In the middle of the festivities, a policeman appeared at the door with a young man in tow, a runaway who was far from home. The shelter coordinator, Kate Arthur, went into immediate action, rallying together the shelter employees to process the new addition. The young man not only received immediate counseling and support but was soon in the thrust of the party, receiving gifts as just another member of this unorthodox family.

I don't know what the future has in store for that young man, but with an unfortunate number of runaways trying to survive on the streets, I think it's important that he was able to sleep on a bed, under a roof, surrounded by people with a genuine concern for his welfare.

What is my role in all of this? It feels so small. When I hit constant road blocks, see constant disappointment, I feel as if I have done nothing to help youth like that aforementioned young man. I wonder if it is even worth me being here. These are the moments, at the end of days such as this, when I must remember that it does not matter why I have chosen to be here, why it does not matter how this makes me feel. I was the first person to open the door for the policeman that night and it is easy for me to take on the attitude that anyone could have done it, that others would have been more initially helpful to him, but if it had not been me, who would it have been? Who should it have been?

As MLK day quickly approaches, it is easy for me to stop to consider how fortunate I am to be an African-American female with a college degree, to be thankful that I can sit in the front of the bus, eat at a lunch counter, use a public restroom, etc. and I do believe that it is important for me to do so. I also believe that it was part of Dr. King's dream for all to be so fortunate and, as it stands, there are still youth of myriad race, class, intelligence who don't have a chance to live so safe a life. Because this chasm has been naught to me, it is my responsibility to turn around and help to build the bridge for the youth who follow, regardless of how good or bad the effort makes me feel at times, regardless of whether or not, in the end, I gave up everything only to be the person who opened one front door for one young man.

Marian Kelly is the Safe Place VISTA at the Homeward Bound Runaway Shelter in Covington, KY.

If money fell like snow

It is finally snowing.

There is a short somewhere in my car which causes it to drain my battery when I do not drive it for days. I have a brand new battery purchased right after I got back from a trip home for Thanksgiving. I spent a few days in Cleveland for New Years and got back to my car once again not starting. I jump started it all by myself (a fact of which I am very proud) and it has been riding ever since (though I haven't tried to start it today) but I do need to take it to a shop at some point in the nearish future. I'm trying to hold out until February.

My electric bill for this month is twice what it was last month.

My new car insurance rate is $15 higher per month than it was the last 6 months. That's like taking half a tank of gas out of my car every month.

Today is rebudgeting day as I have exciting plans for some of my money and I have to find a way to make it work.

Hmmmmm

The Stars

I feel as if I am on the verge of something, on the verge of knowing if I can have a life here. I almost have friends I almost have a routine I almost have a sense of familiarity. Roads, landmarks, directions are becoming increasingly familiar. The woman at the gas station, the guys at the library, the manager at the Family Dollar.

Tonight I saw the stars.

Money is still hard. I get food stamp benefits and that is hard. Knowing that so many of the people I know disapprove of government financial assistance. I say to myself, "My situation is different because I'm helping people and it's only temporary and your tax money already pays my living allowance and I paid lots of taxes for years myself." But really, my work is no better than that of the single mom working at McDonalds and getting EBT. She helps you get that Big Mac. She helps stimulate the economy. You make sure her kids get enough nutrition. We all have different ideas of the best way to help people, of the best way for people to lift themselves up by their bootstraps. If they can only get so high, why should they live less of a life than anyone else? Too little space to give this line of thought the full teasing out it deserves. It's never as simple as it should be.

The hardest part is that I get enough money that I could keep going to Kroger, with its decent prices and good quality products. But when I can, I instead go to Family Dollar and Save-a-Lot and Dollar General and Dollar Tree, where no one looks at me sidewise when I use my EBT card, the American flag waving bravely on it, reminding me of how priveleged I am to live in this country, to be supported by this thoughtful democratic society where we all have the right to the American dream. Stars and stripes.

My headlight went out again and tomorrow I will buy another and try to do a better job of making sure it doesn't fall out of place and burn more wires and blow itself out. I like getting grease on my hands and solving these problems I am not at all qualified to deal with. People are embarrassed of my car for me but I love it. It's mine.

The Reclamation of the Golden Shoes

Hands - Jewel

What I'm eating for dinner

As I was leaving work I saw a blond, Caucasian woman with dreadlocks secured neatly to her head, in a beautiful wrap skirt, walking with a beautiful little girl with a shaved head, save for long bangs, wearing a stylish, colorful outfit and I thought, "How appropriate. I wonder if their life is the way it looks it is, if it is really as romantic as I imagine it to be."

I got to drive more through other parts of Kentucky. It is so beautiful right now! There are cows and the leaves are bright oranges and reds and deep browns and mellow yellow tans. Some of the buildings are still quaint, men in trucks, women on tractors, eying me as any would eye a suspicious stranger. I drive along the highway and can't imagine ever not being there.

I made a delicious tuna salad. If you like tuna salad you might find tuna salad difficult to make not-delicious but I've made bland tuna salad before and eaten just regular boring tuna salad before. Now I know how to make it the right amount of spicy and the right amount of sweet; how to put in enough curry to be detectable but not too much to overpower the tuna flavor. I spread a spoonful of this tuna on slice of Aunt Millie's Lite Whole Grain Bread, sprinkled some pre-shredded "casserole" cheese on top, and put it in the toaster oven. It came out delicious.

Then I pulled one of the cinnamon rolls I baked (from scratch) a few nights ago out of the freezer and put it into the microwave. The taste was so perfect for this day, even better than it was out of the oven, that I thought I needed to make it more perfect. There was no sound in my apartment as I was bouncing from doing work work to scanning pages from recipe books to taking bites from my cinnamon roll. I put on a Joni Mitchell record and I am listening to it now and drinking an-alcohol-free, crushed-red-pepper-infused Hot Places I've Never Been Chocolate.

I love Joni Mitchell but I wonder who loved her first. Whose skin am I trying to wear? Where did I see that painting that I decided should be the ideal for my own life? I feel if the perfectness of this all was more authentic I wouldn't feel so strongly a need to tell the world about it. Or maybe it's too perfect to be spending it alone?

Cost of Living Comparison: compare New York, New York to Cincinnati, Ohio

When I told people I would be moving to do AmeriCorps, one of the things that would invariably come up was finances. I would of course tell people that part of being a VISTA is receiving a living allowance that was just barely above the poverty level, and that I wouldn't be allowed any other form of income. (Obviously financial gifts from family and friends is acceptable as is government assistance.) If I didn't mention the word "poverty" and just said that I wouldn't be making much money, no one ever failed to say, "Yeah, but the cost of living has to be a lot cheaper than NYC, amIright?" Yes, yes, you are right. However, my current gross income is approximately 28% of my gross income in New York. The good thing is that housing really is cheap here. I am able to live in a small, but comfortable, studio apartment. There are larger one bedroom apartments (with 4 to 5 rooms total) for a comparable price, but with fewer amenities. Below is a link to a comparison calculator to show how much money I would have to make here to compare to my life in New York...and to show the difference in the cost of housing.

Cost of Living Comparison: compare New York, New York to Cincinnati, Ohio

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Nice

I went to my sewing class for the first time in a month, after I'd only been twice, and one of the women told me, "You have really been missed;" I could've cried.

Things I Like About Living Here

If you almost cut someone off in traffic on accident, but wave and smile an apology, they wave and smile back, instead of calling you a "stupid bitch."

Whether be the weather

It had gotten cold and suddenly it's sort of warm again: high of 74° and sunnyish. I think to myself: I should ride my bike to work since this might be my last chance before the true cold comes. But I tell myself I need to replace the chain, that I'll hate riding home this evening as it starts to get dark. And so I tell myself that I will bike this weekend, to the library, the city, a museum. But I check the weather. There is an expected 20° temperature drop and rain. Rain. To add further rust to my bicycle chain.

Things I Like About Living Here

It is beautiful in the fall.

Things I Like About Living Here

I don't have to drive that far to see cows.

When it moves

Things are picking up.

I wake up every morning feeling anxious and worried and I sit in bed until I think of all of the things about which I could (whether or not I should) feel anxious and worried about so that these uncomfortable feelings are attached to many facts (or just fears)...and it is only then that I can get out of bed. This is a strange unpleasant way to live my life and so I pray about it but haven't really let go because I think I am so afraid of new feelings that I force myself to wallow in them.

But now, the facts that I attach my anxieties to are my progress. Things are finally going somewhere with my work and now, instead of being worried that I won't accomplish anything, I am worried that I will screw up the things I've finally started to accomplish. I stood in front of a room of firemen and stuttered and mumbled and stared at everything but their faces...but then tried to learn from my mistakes.

Non-work life wise, I am optimistic. I spend too much time alone but I have found a church that I am enjoying, a once-a-month movie event that I have been to once and had a blast at (I love biting my tongue and hearing the amazing, and sometimes not-so-amazing, insights of non-film buffs talking about a film in an honest and real way), a free sewing class that I hope will some day lead me to actually completing a project, and an organization that pretty much focuses on what I want to do with my life: InkTank.

My incredible parents fascilitated a vacation to Chicago, my first time in that beautiful city, and it was the further boost in morale that I needed. Today my tummy aches but tomorrow I look forward to going back into work and fighting my anxieties with consistent productivity.

Food

One of the biggest adjustments for me here is figuring out how to eat on a budget and how to eat healthily. I've managed to eat but I haven't gotten the healthy part down. I will occasionally be posting recipes and stories of my kitchen mishaps at my food blog, What I Like to Eat.

Fortunate Find

I found this fortune at the bottom of a box I was (finally) emptying. I wonder if it is as auspicious a find as it seems.

All dressed up

My anxieties
have returned with a vengeance
on Sunday morning.

It is difficult
to be sure of acceptance
from all God's people.

I am a Christian
I am not a Churchian
for people are flawed.

My Sunday Best

Last Sunday I went to a new church. It was nice and very different from what I've known. I've done big Baptist, tiny Baptist, and biggish Presbyterian. This is small (and less so when school starts back) and Christian Church. I will go back again tomorrow to decide how I feel for sure.

After church I went to a scrap yard with my car with the broken window. I was nervous. I took all of my tools in a cute hat box. I forgot to bring a t-shirt, so I was wearing the American Apparel body suit I had on under my church dress and jeans. I was there for a while before I realized I should take off my jewelry and the flower in my hair. There was nothing to be done about the make-up. I paid my admission fee, walked around, walked back out to get a list of cars with compatible windows and to go to the convenient store for work gloves, water, and cash to pay anyone who would help me out.

In the parking lot, a man asked me if I had someone to pull the part for me. "No but I guess I'll learn if I have to." (When I arrived men asked me good-naturedly if I worked on cars. I told them too that I was about to learn. They said to ask them if I had any questions, but they were leaving.) This man in the parking lot wanted to help me for a few dollars but he had his nephew. "There'll be plenty of guys inside who'll pull it for $10, $15," he told me helpfully.

I went back into the yard and arbitrarily chose a car with a window that should fit mine. I took my time beginning to take off the panel. Studied each part before I removed it. Drank my water. Soon, a couple of Hispanic men (I only mention that they were Hispanic because I had recently discussed how the lack of diversity was unsettling: this land is black and white, with a couple of Indian families thrown in for good measure) noticed my slow progress and asked if I needed help. I wasn't going to refuse. They were less gentle. Pried the door panel off. Worked the glass out. They warned me that because of the way the door panel was bolted in, I would need a professional to install it in my car. I told them that I:

1. Couldn't afford a professional and
2. Drove a slightly different car that would hopefully be less complicated.

They shrugged their shoulders, wished me luck, and refused to accept the money I offered them.

Triumphantly, I took the window, paid for it, and placed it in my car. I attempted to begin installing it in the parking lot, truthfully hoping another Good Samaritan or Good Businessman would come to my aid. But things were not looking good. I was struggling with my door panel and starting to get hungry, so I packed it up and went home.

After a meal and changing into my cowgirl clothes, I went back to work. It was hard work getting the panel off; there were many little oddities and secrets and mysteries that appeared...but I finally got it off. Getting the new window installed was then a whole new challenge. I almost quit for the day before I even started trying to get the window in, worried the men might be right, but I decided to give it a go. At first it seemed like I wouldn't be able to slide it in at all but after a couple of tries, it slipped right through. Then I worried that I wouldn't be able to get the mechanism that raises and lowers it onto the track. A little patience and even that happened...sort of. The window isn't settled in quite right but after hours of work, I knew it was time to call it a day. So I will work on it some more, see if I can't get it to roll up and down smoothly but I felt pretty accomplished. I still feel accomplished. The door panel is also still detached. I'd planned on fixing it today but why do today what I can put off until tomorrow or next week?

Lazy Saturday That Feels Like Sunday

Things I Should be Doing:

• Working on my car
  
• Washing dishes
  
• Writing
  
• Working on one of my many other art projects
  
• Cleaning
  
• Organizing
  
• Making dinner

Things I Will be Doing:

• Reading

Things I Miss Most About New York:

• My friends - but I talk to many of them quite frequently, so this is helpful
  
• Not worrying so much about money
  
• Knowing I would, more often than not, walk at least a mile every day just getting to and from the subway
  
• Taekwondo
  
• Having a church
  
• Having time to read on the subway
  
• Delivery