Iona Winter

I’ve been pondering poverty today. Nothing new there, I often do, especially around Christmastime. I know it’s not light and happy and fluffy, but its real and exists and I am not blind to it.

I read a great blog this morning about poverty in Aotearoa, and how our governing politicians refuse to believe that children go hungry. Perversely, they believe (for reasons I am completely unable to comprehend) that the issue doesn’t exist. Instead they choose to run merrily around their rat-wheels, in states of denial, blame and avoidance. This is something that angers me.

For years as a single parent I ‘survived’ from one week to the next. I worked my arse off (in several part-time jobs) until my son said one night, “Can you not work at night anymore Mum, I miss you.” I took out a loan to go and get a degree. I wanted out of the cycle.

People around me couldn’t understand why I was tired, stressed and frustrated at times. Most of those people had never been in my position. Single parent, one income, living in rental accommodation (with increasing rents in a major city), etcetera…

I didn’t plan on being a single parent. And for a period of time I received a benefit. I had to ask for food parcels, food grants, assistance with school fees, assistance with medical fees…honestly the list goes on. I wasn’t a bludger, or milking the welfare system. I needed help.

I remember the shame at the supermarket, at Christmastime, waiting while the food grant vouchers were triple-checked for authenticity, before we could take the trolley away (with only the basics inside). Shame, because everyone could see (and hear) what was happening. But we needed the food. So I sucked it up.

It stopped one day in the welfare office, after an officious wee man announced in a very loud voice (so the entire building could hear), “No you’re NOT entitled to ANYTHING. You’ve USED up all your food grants.” I shifted my humiliation to rage that day.

I went home (on the bus) and wrote a letter of complaint. The next day I hand delivered it to the manager. I stood up for myself, after years of feeling shamed, marginalised and judged. We all have our limits.

People living in poverty don’t ‘choose’ to be there. Who on earth would? People living in poverty don’t need judgements, labels, or pathologies. They need compassion. It’s so difficult to ask for help, when you are stressed, poor, under-resourced and are then met with judgements and bureaucracy. Furthermore, it doesn’t mean we are ‘mentally unstable’ if we get angry or depressed sometimes. Many of us are probably just so damn tired of having to fight to put food in our children’s mouths.

There ends my epistle for today. Almost.

Think of those who will go without this holiday season. Volunteer at your local community centre to help out with Christmas food for those who need it. Do something. DON’T stick your head in the sand. POVERTY in Aotearoa is real and happening now, in your own backyards.

Be kind to one another.