(Quick little blogger’s edit: If you think I’m going to allow your tired ass, shamey, or deliberately ignorant comments to see the light of day, think again. If it’s trash, it goes in the trash. I’m not hosting a debate here.)
Hello, Dear Taxpayer:
Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak too loudly. Should I stand to the side? I wouldn’t want to take up too much room.
I *ahem* receive welfare, and I feel terrible about it. I don’t make enough money to support myself, so I have to steal yours to make ends meet. I’m sorry. So very sorry.
Every day I sit at home and think with gratitude about how you other hardworking Americans work long days to earn me my pittance. I wouldn’t want to go outside and have you see me. I wouldn’t want you to know I exist.
Oh wait? You want me to get a job? Alright. I’m so sorry, but the wages are so low that I have to beg for a little of your money still. I’m so, so sorry! Please forgive me!
When I shop, I do it carefully. I wouldn’t want to mismanage the money you gave me. Do I buy prepacked processed food and seem wasteful, or do I buy fresh cuts of meats and veggies and good stuff and look frivolous? Please, Dear Taxpayer, tell me what I should buy to make you less angry about my thievery of your precious tax dollars.
The things I buy with the cash benefit (I’m sorry! I need more money to spend on things that aren’t food! Please don’t hate me) are simple and basic. No name brands. I’m sorry, is that not good enough? How about Dollar Store brands? Nope, nothing that might not fall apart or break within months for me. Thrift store outfits all the way. I wouldn’t want to look too rich in your sight.
Joys? I have no joy. I am poor. I do not deserve joy. Occasionally eating outside of the house? Why would I waste your money like that? Gifts from friends and family who are doing better than me? Nope, I won’t accept a single one because I am poor and do not wish to be seen with something that is “too good’ for the likes of me. All of the nice things I may have owned before I needed to put my hands in your hardworking pockets? Gone. I threw them all away. Any children I may have foolishly had while on poor? Gone. A temporal vortex swallowed them the second I applied for benefits. What was I doing having sex while poor anyway? When you see me, I want you see someone who looks as poor as you think I should. What choices should I make for my life, Dear Taxpayer? Please tell me.
Because it’s all about you, Dear Taxpayer.
Hold please, urge to barf passing.
Now that we’re back to me, where the fuck do people get off trying to talk about welfare while knowing fuck all about it? Seriously. I’ve been in several Facebook “discussions” in the past three days about government assistance and it’s like Groundhog Day minus Bill Murray and less funny.
So, allow me to tackle some of those shit excuses for arguments here, where I can be an uncivil as I please:
“I grew up poor and lifted myself up by my own bootstraps and so should everyone else!”
– You want a cookie or something? Congratulations, you’re better than everyone, you special snowflake you. Now what will we do with those who aren’t as super-dee-duper awesome as you are?
“People shouldn’t have kids they can’t afford!”
– Mm-mmm that’s some good Just World fallacy! Now, what exactly should we do for the kids born to people you disapprove of that are alive right now? Also, telling people not to fuck has never and will never work.
“People are selling their food stamps for drug money!”
“People live their entire lives on welfare!”
“Illegals get welfare all the time!”
– I’m just gonna lump all of these into the “Hi, I’m stuck in the 80s.” Update your bullshit, please. Also, and I’m gonna put this in bold and all caps: SNAP IS FOR FOOD. ONLY. Stop saying otherwise, you ignorant shits.
“Welfare is so easy to get!”
– Says someone who has never had to sign up for it. Bank statements, paychecks, royalty statements, landlord statements, copies of utilities, the personal information of every person you live with, whether they are getting the benes with you or not. And that’s just to sign up. Then you have to cough it up again every six months. You can’t work too many hours or you lose it. You can’t get married (if you’re broke and your intended isn’t), or you lose it.
Tell me again how easy it is?
“I saw someone use an EBT card and they had an iPhone/a nice purse/a tattoo/new shoes/a nice weave/something I don’t think they deserve!”
– First of all, fuck you for trying to judge based on one look. Maybe it hasn’t dawned onto you, but people in cooperative societies manage to get their needs met in a lot of different ways. Maybe they had that fancy object before they got poor. Maybe they got it for free with one of those “sign your soul over” data plans. Maybe the purse is a knockoff, or traded babysitting or something for someone to fix their hair/do their nails (oh, and nice racist dogwhistle, btw). Maybe that tattoo is getting paid in installments.
Or maybe, and this might hurt your feelings, but I don’t give a shit, when that cash assistance money hits their account, it’s none of your fucking business how they spend it. Does your boss have a say in how you spend your check?
I know, I know, “But I earned my money. Poors didn’t earn theirs!”
And? The state, the social worker who had more access to their financials than your nosy ass does decided on the amount to give, not you. It’s their money. As long as they’re not breaking any of the rules attached to it, they can spend it however the fuck they want. Basic household supplies, clothes and shoes, make up, a nice aftershave, a cup of fancy coffee, a .99 phone app, whatever. It is ours to save or spend.
Poor people aren’t some cast offs living where needs above food, clothing and shelter are different. Not making enough to make ends meet doesn’t mean we check out of all the good parts of being human. I’ve heard people piss and moan about seeing someone using SNAP for a birthday cake for a child.
A motherfucking birthday cake for a kid.
Because being poor apparently means you get no joy (and being born to a poor family means you’re just shit out of luck). No temporary comfort. Nothing that makes you feed good in a world that is shit and even more so when you apparently are too poor to exist without some ignorant motherfucker peeping in your shopping cart for shit your not “supposed” to have.
There is nothing easy about being poor. If you think otherwise, you try it. If that’s too scary for you, then climb the fuck off our backs.