Are the poor
blessed or lazy? The prevailing answer in America is lazy. The
welfare revolution of the past decade put the poor to work. The
Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act
of 1996 changed the social support system. As the name of the
law implies, people are held personally responsible for getting
out of poverty by taking advantage of work opportunities.
This work-based
welfare system is now undergoing another round of scrutiny because
the legislation needs renewal. President Bush is asking the poor
to work more, invoking once again the goal of moving people from
"welfare dependency to self-sufficiency."
Work is a gospel that we live by, seemingly more than ever. Sociologists
tell us that the number of hours worked by American families have
increased and that Americans work more hours than workers in other
nations. The work ethic is a deeply held social value with biblical
roots. It's the gasoline of the American dream of getting ahead,
the sweat-equity portion of home ownership. The poor themselves
accept the gospel of work. In an essay in Welfare in America:
Christian Perspectives on a Policy in Crisis (1996), political
scientist Lawrence Mead writes:
In
dependency politics, values per se are not at issue, only the
realization of values. No one disputes that the work ethic and
obedience to the law are good things. There is no evidence that
the poor themselves question these values.
Yet the value
of work ought to invite questions if the work itself proves not
to be much valued. Those leaving welfare for work are earning
between $6 and $8 an hour at the bottom of the economic ladder.
For them, and other low-income working Americans, work and poverty
coexist. Work does not lead to self-sufficiency.
Statistics
on work and poverty paint the picture by numbers. In 2001, 38
percent of poor working-age adults held jobs. The Census Bureau,
in its 2000 annual report on poverty, observes that "having
a job, even a full-time job, does not guarantee an escape from
poverty." It is more likely today than it was seven years
ago, as the Census Bureau tracks trends, that poor households
have a working family member.
Some of these
households include children. A Department of Labor report from
2000 showed that 8.5 percent of families with children under 18
were "working poor." An Urban Institute study from that
year estimated that one in six nonelderly (under age 65) Americans
lives in a family in which adults work at least half-time but
family income falls below twice the federal poverty level. This
range is important because within it families are more likely
to experience hardship: to skip a meal or a bill payment.
Despite changes
in the economy since the Urban Institute's data were collected,
Gregory Acs, one of the authors of the report, says his one-in-six
estimate remains reasonable.
In Low Wage Workers in the New Economy (Urban Institute, 2001),
Richard Kazis notes that the incomes of more than 9 million working
Americans are below the poverty level. He and others who analyze
the jobs picture agree that low-wage jobs are a needed entry way
into the economy. But for those with families to support and lots
of bills to pay, "the challenge becomes what kind of policies
can help people move up," says Kazis, senior vice president
of Jobs for the Future, a Boston group that specializes in workforce
development issues.
In a 2002 study of 30,000 welfare recipients, the Manpower Research
Demonstration Corporation found that those who succeeded in staying
off welfare were older, better educated, and had more recent work
experience and fewer children and child care problems. (The average
welfare family size is 2.6; some families have two children and
a single mother, others only one child.) But success is relative
to the goal of staying off welfare, not of escaping poverty. According
to the report, "Many families who leave and stay off welfare
long term are still poor when they leave."
For poor working
families, the low wages of work aren't a vehicle out of poverty
but merely a bus ticket to the next paycheck. Barbara Ehrenreich
rode that bus for a year, an experience she describes in Nickel
and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America (2001). She chronicled
her attempt to support herself on a variety of low-wage jobs,
and reported on the economic difficulties of those with whom she
worked. The insufficiency of work to provide self-sufficiency
is behind the movement-backed by many religious groups-to ensure
that all employers pay a living wage, which is generally understood
to be the wage needed to support a family at or slightly above
the poverty level.
The minimum
wage is considerably less than a living wage. A full-time, 35-hour-a-week
job paying $5.15 an hour (the minimum) yields a yearly income
of $9,373. The federal poverty level for a family of three (with
one wage-earning adult but three bodies to feed, clothe and house)
is $14,259. If the pay scale rises to $8 an hour, the income rises
to $14,560, one week's paycheck above poverty level.
Consider the
case of Myrna, a 42-year-old single mother supporting two children.
The family lives in Aurora, a mixed working- and middle-class
city of 150,000 outside Chicago. Myrna worked hard enough as a
bank teller to get a promotion to teller supervisor. She got a
$3,000 raise, boosting her income to $25,000. She also became
eligible for overtime pay. Before her promotion, she had qualified
for a state-paid child care subsidy. She paid $27 weekly for after-school
care for her two boys, ages eight and nine. But she discovered
that her promotion disqualified her for the subsidy. Unsubsidized,
the cost rose to $108 weekly per child. So her advancement at
work cost her $8,450 a year in child care assistance.
To buy a condominium,
Myrna borrowed against her future, taking $3,000 from her pension
plan. The mortgage payment and association fee claim $864 monthly;
another $338 goes for payments on a used car she bought to replace
one that kept breaking down. Her day care bill of $45 weekly now
covers only her eight-year-old. The nine-year-old comes home alone
after school and calls her. She regularly uses "overdraft
protection" offered by her bank; if she writes a check and
doesn't have enough money to cover it, the bank loans her up to
$500, which she repays with interest. "I'm living on credit,
not a paycheck," she says. "There's a lot of us out
there living this way."
She explored
other avenues. Her own employer wouldn't refinance her mortgage
when she applied; her debt-to-earnings ratio was too high, she
was told. She went to court and was awarded child support from
the children's father, an undocumented alien who works in the
same town. He gets paid in cash. She's collected nothing from
him. "I never missed a court date and for two years they
would say "continuation." The judge awarded me $100
per week, $20 arrearage, and I haven't seen one penny," Myrna
said. "They tell me they can't garnish his wages because
he doesn't have a Social Security number." Myrna plays by
the rules. She reported, as required, the change in her income
that disqualified her for child care assistance. "I would
never abuse the system," she explains. "You know how
some people lie just to get the money. I pay taxes too."
The renewal
of funding for welfare, with its goal of turning the dependent
nonworking poor into self-sufficient workers, could offer a chance
to recalculate what it takes to make a worker self-sufficient.
In an essay for the Institute for Research on Poverty, Thomas
Corbett of the University of Wisconsin argues that the welfare
system should consciously evolve from a system of income transfers
to a tailored system of assistance for those experiencing economic
hardship. That change could take into account a broader understanding
of who qualifies for assistance, what assistance is, what is the
purpose of assistance and how success is to be measured.
"Reauthorization,"
he writes optimistically, "offers an opportunity to rethink
the nature of social assistance." Interpreted with vision,
the welfare laboratory might produce the rough draft of a new
social contract for former welfare recipients and other low-wage
workers.
Such
social assistance needs a lot of tailoring. On the economic margins,
one shove can send someone over. When I interviewed residents
of Hesed House, a homeless shelter in Aurora, in 2002 (the state
wanted information about what homeless people need), I heard stories
of disability, job loss or workplace closure, and eviction. One
event is enough to knock over the financial house of cards that
the underskilled or undereducated or underprepared inhabit.
Sometimes
even skills aren't enough when the cart of expectations overturns.
Vicky, 38, was never homeless, but her customary middle-class
lifestyle and expectations vanished when she and her husband divorced.
With two school-age children, a business degree, work experience
and financial support from her ex-husband, she still plummeted
into financial straits, losing three jobs in less than a year's
time. Eventually she qualified to receive job training from a
public agency that assists the poor. She also experienced hardship:
not having enough money for food and other necessities. "I
remember when they gave me toilet paper," she says.
Vicky received psychological aid and comfort from her small Methodist
church. Members offered encouragement and helped her cope with
her feelings of frustration and struggle. They also plugged her
into community volunteering, keeping her busy as a tutor for kids
at a low-income housing project. The job training she received
eventually bolstered her confidence enough to help her land an
administrative job in home health care management, which she's
held for two years. To enhance her income, she recently became
a part-time entrepreneur, selling Mary Kay cosmetics.
Vicky's economic
ups and downs were stabilized, but she had advantages to begin
with: an education, work experience, financial help from her ex-husband,
a house. Those assets make a difference, and when one or more
is missing, a low-income worker is more vulnerable to the next
job loss or cash-flow crisis. The National Low Income Housing
Coalition, an advocacy group, calculates that a worker would need
to earn $14.66 an hour to be able to afford to rent a two-bedroom
home. That's just for the shelter. Add transportation, child care,
and money to keep the lights or heat on.
Getting a
second job is one strategy. "We get them hired at $7.50 or
$8 an hour and they just can't make it and end up taking a second
job," says Mary Nelson, president of Bethel New Life, a Chicago-based
community development organization that seeks jobs for former
welfare recipients. "It's just very, very difficult to survive,
and these are people working hard and trying their best."
Bethel New
Life also runs subsidized housing, recognizing that affordable
housing is one piece of the whole picture that needs to be secured
for a working family. Nelson ticks off the other necessities:
transportation, health insurance, child care. "The conversation
now needs to change from helping people get a job to helping people
move out of poverty," she says. "It's going to take
a myriad of things."
The most successful
approaches to helping the very poor do take into account and coordinate
the many variables that affect workers and their family situations:
employment availability, job skills, housing costs, transportation,
child care. Beyond government and social services, successful
partnerships include employers, who control access to earned income.
Income supplements for things like child care, which stretch an
earned dollar, also need to remain for low-income working parents.
Alan Weil
of the Urban Institute, which has studied welfare reform extensively,
notes that the system has been slow to acknowledge the evolution
of responsibility from helping the nonworking to supporting those
who have advanced in the work world, as Myrna's case illustrates.
The Earned Income Tax Credit is another effective benefit for
low-income families that enjoys broad support. "It's a Republican
philosophy that could help make a difference, and it needs to
be expanded," says Nelson.
But disagreement
over how much work to expect and how much help to give is fundamental.
Welfare law is also social code that expresses values and adjusts
behavior. Corbett says:
Cash
welfare for families, although accounting for a tiny proportion
of federal outlays, touches upon our most sensitive public issues:
work, family, sex, abortion, personal responsibility and community
integrity. Welfare has served as a proxy for fundamental questions
about the quality of life in society and about how to allocate
personal and public responsibilities.
Hence the
welfare system is a social-engineering laboratory, encouraging
marriages and two-parent families. It has expressed a preference
between two alternatives. Household income can be increased if
a family has two adult workers. It can also be increased if one
hard-working employed person, whether a single head-of-household
mother or a married head-of-household father, can advance in the
workplace.
In the meantime,
the economy that cooperated with welfare reform by providing jobs
and economic confidence in the late 1990s has turned sour. The
vigorous labor market into which the nonworking poor were sent
is now characterized by 6 percent unemployment. The poor looking
for work are having trouble finding it. The Association of Gospel
Rescue Missions, representing 302 faith-based missions providing
emergency services to disadvantaged groups, surveyed 20,000 homeless
people and reported in November 2002 that more than 60 percent
of those surveyed said they had more trouble finding work than
they had six months prior.
Food pantries
are reporting more visitors. One of Congress's first acts this
year was to extend unemployment benefits for those whose job loss
last year pushed up the unemployment rate. The decline in welfare
caseloads, widely cited as a sign of successful reform, has reversed
course, heading back up: in the third quarter of 2002, 39 states
reported an increase, making for an increase for the nation as
a whole. In 2001, when the economic recession officially began,
the poverty rate rose for the first time in five years, to 11.7
percent of the population, or almost 33 million people.
Perhaps the
harder times ushered in by the recession can dent prevailing social
attitudes toward poverty. In January, a poll commissioned by the
Catholic Campaign for Human Development, the antipoverty effort
sponsored by U.S. Catholic bishops, showed that 29 percent of
those surveyed believe that lack of education is a principal cause
of poverty. "Personal laziness" was cited by fewer respondents-26
percent. Fifteen percent cited a lack of good-paying jobs.
The same group
was also asked who is responsible for helping the poor. The top
answer, given by 43 percent, was government. Of interest to those
who advocate faith-based social programs was the fact that, only
5 percent cited churches.
People like
Myrna rely on God as well as their paychecks. "I'm very blessed,"
she says. The blessings she counts include employer-provided health
insurance for her children, which makes her better off than 41
million Americans who don't have health insurance.
Marcia Z.
Nelson covers religion and public life for ReligionLink, a resource
for the media. She also volunteers at Hesed House, a shelter for
the homeless.
Copyright
2003 Christian Century. Reproduced by permission from the June
14, 2003 issue of the Christian Century. Subscriptions: $49/year
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