By Matthew Shepetin
Artwork by Mei Liu, Staff Artist Mei WUPR_rot_and_rebirth_

Headlines like “Halle Berry once slept in a homeless shelter” and “Oprah went to college on scholarship” create an idealized and unrealistic image of American egalitarianism. With the right mentality and a whole lot of hard work, just about anybody can “Pull themselves up by the bootstraps,” we’re told. Sure, for those that get lucky, the American dream can deliver exactly what we have come to expect: 2.5 children, a golden retriever, and a house with a white picket fence. But what about people who don’t have bootstraps? What about people who don’t even have boots? Most are forgotten, left behind to learn that more often than not, poverty only begets more poverty. Princeton sociology professor Matthew Desmond explores this phenomenon in his novel Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City. Following eight families facing eviction in Milwaukee after the 2008 financial crisis, Evicted reveals that the costs of poverty-whether it be financial or psychological-often only lead to more poverty. Desmond gets right what many get wrong about America’s economic structure: Poverty does not exist because of laziness, complacency, or inadequacy. Poverty exists because we have failed to create social safety nets that prevent families from falling into a self-perpetuating cycle of loss, eviction, and debt.

 

Desmond’s novel opens with Arleen, a recently evicted mother of two living in a drab, overpriced, and dangerous apartment on Milwaukee’s North Side. Arleen and her children are facing eviction for the second time that year. After visiting 25 apartments across Milwaukee, Arleen finally found a landlord willing to rent to her back on the North Side. This particular apartment was far from Arleen’s first choice, but it was her last hope to find a place to stay before she and her boys were evicted. When Arleen called to secure the offer later that night, the landlord informed her that she had rented the apartment to a tenant with a better record. After hanging up, Arleen “let out a long sigh and balled herself up in a chair. ‘I’m back to square one.'” Just moments later, she got up, packed up some of her personal belongings, and got her two children ready to go to the shelter. The family left their kitten, Arleen’s antique love seat, and other sentimental belongings behind. There would be no room for them in the crowded shelter.

 

 

The differences between stable and unstable poverty (what Arleen and her children are experiencing) are extensive. A family living just below the poverty line is most likely experiencing stable poverty. A steady and reliable income, even one that is exceedingly low, can provide sanctuary from the worst that poverty has to offer. A stable income means stable housing, stable education for one’s children, a more stable way of life. “Residential stability,” Desmond writes, “begets a kind of psychological stability.” Housing stability allows individuals to build bonds and connections that afford greater satisfaction with one’s living situation. People constantly at risk of eviction-whether its unstable family structure or unreliable income-do not have this kind of luxury. Often, they see their housing circumstances as temporary or transitory. As a result, unstably impoverished individuals are less likely to cement themselves in a given community and less likely to secure long-term employment. 

 

After a couple of weeks of living in an inner-city shelter, landlord number ninety rented Arleen a place on the North Side. But a series of misfortunes-an asthma attack, an unwelcome guest, and her brother’s funeral costs-resulted in another eviction. Even though Arleen was pretty sure that the stated reason for her eviction was illegal, she did not have enough knowledge about her rights as a tenant to fight the landlord. For the third time that year, Arleen packed up what little they had left and moved into a shelter.

 

As Arleen’s story reflects, one bounced check, one broken window, or one day of missed work, can begin a cascade of events ending in homelessness. “Poverty could pile on,” Desmond writes, “There [are] moments of calm, but life on the balance [is] facing one crisis after another.” Primarily, this system is a result of our nation’s method of documenting eviction. No matter the circumstances, an eviction can stay on a tenant’s record for up to ten years. Whether it’s a consequence of job loss, family trauma, or any other misfortune, one missed rent payment will often lead to an eviction. Because most landlords and public housing projects refuse to rent to tenants with an eviction record, many are forced to accept sub-par housing or unfair rent rates in the name of shelter. Often, subprime renting schemes increase a tenant’s likelihood of eviction. Then, the cycle starts again. It’s easy to see how a single moment of bad luck can lead to months, even years, spent in unstable poverty.

 

 

Beyond the trauma of eviction, the state of unstable poverty has severe psychological consequences itself. Choosing whether to forgo paying the water bill or buying groceries for the weekend has implications well beyond physical well-being. The mere act of having to pick between two services necessary for survival is agonizing. Poverty can be so arduous that many have little emotional bandwidth to perform everyday tasks. Between searching for housing, moving, and trying to figure out where the next meal will come from, most individuals struggle to take the necessary steps toward escaping poverty. 

 

Throughout Desmond’s time with Arleen, her ongoing distress is palpable; her inability to provide stability for her children slowly ate away at her. This was a common feeling shared by mothers experiencing poverty. “You could only say ‘I’m sorry, I can’t’ so many times before we began to feel worthless,” Desmond says. Many mothers deem their children unworthy of help in an unconscious attempt to spare themselves. Instead of acknowledging her inadequacy, Arleen would subtly tell her children that they were undeserving of more than she could give. “Don’t be getting in the kitchen because I know you ain’t hungry,” Arleen would say when she didn’t have enough cash to stock her pantry at the end of the month. It was not Arleen’s intention to make her children feel unworthy, but her actions did so anyway. Of course, this behavior has a long-lasting effect on children of poverty. Children experiencing persistent poverty are more likely to report higher levels of unhappiness, anxiety, and dependence. These symptoms are often exacerbated by the stigma associated with homelessness, which infiltrates a child’s social relationships and development. Instability means that children are less likely to form long-lasting social bonds and less likely to be self-confident, qualities vital to a child’s social and emotional development

 

Individuals experiencing unstable poverty often feel that the hole is so deep that no amount of penny-pinching will allow them to climb out. Consider Lorraine, a middle-aged woman living in a Southern Milwaukee trailer park. Instead of spending extra money covering rent or utilities, Larraine would often buy two-hundred-dollar beauty creams or expensive hair products to enhance her appearance. Larraine operated under what her pastor called “Poverty Mentality.” Impoverished people “live with so many compounding limitations that it is hard to believe that [any] behavior would lift [oneself] out of poverty.” Instead, many attempt to “survive in color.” For Larraine, it was buying products to maintain her beauty; for others, it is gambling away what little they have left, even buying a lobster dinner on food stamps. 

 

 

When Larraine was served with eviction papers, she applied for public housing. A few weeks later, she received a letter from the Wisconsin HUD office. Her application was rejected because of outstanding property taxes and her eviction history. Larraine knew that the first reason was wrong-she had never owned property-but she was too drained to deal with it. Even if she had the energy, she did not have enough money to afford legal representation. Instead of investigating, she bought a pack of cigarettes and went to sleep.

 

To the non-poor, these behaviors seem illogical, even self-sabotaging. But for those in the throes of instability, a new pair of shoes may be the only thing getting them through the week. Again, it’s easy to see how poverty self-perpetuates. Individuals live with so little for so long that they no longer feel capable of getting out; they content themself with what they have now without realizing they have the resources to escape the cycle.

Real stories and empirical research demonstrate that poverty has become a cycle rather than a temporary condition. Lack of social connections, frustration with one’s current state of living, an individual’s inability to look past their present financial peril all contribute to one’s inability to escape poverty. But what can we do to protect families suffering from unstable poverty? As one of the wealthiest nations in the world, we have an obligation to ensure safe and affordable housing for every citizen, regardless of their race, class, or eviction status. Much like SNAP benefits, federal and state governments can provide low-income individuals with housing vouchers instead of mandating rent ceilings. Additionally, we need to strengthen our legal protections for low-income tenants. Far too often, renters succumb to avoidable evictions because there are not enough legal structures in place to protect a tenant’s rights. Eviction is a traumatic and destructive event; low-income individuals should have every protection possible to avoid unnecessary displacement. In the meantime, America must understand that poverty is a matter of circumstance rather than character. We need to begin building the safety nets that impede this cycle. Nobody chooses to fall into poverty, and we shouldn’t punish those who do.

 

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