An Open Letter

I don’t think there’s one person I know who hasn’t had a rough life or who doesn’t hit a bump in the road every now and again; and that includes me. You’re no exception. I understand that things in your past haven’t always gone well; and I understand that you’re having a tough time with your life now, but I also understand that you can overcome your problems if you really want to. I have and so have all of my friends. All it takes is a little acknowledgement from you that you can’t do everything alone.

You need to realize that the only person you can control is you and, although you feel like your life is out of control at this minute, it won’t always be that way if you choose to ask for help. I’m here to help you in any way I can, but I won’t offer unsolicited assistance. Rather than ask me, though, you opt to try to make me feel bad for my shortcomings because you can’t handle your life by yourself the way you thought you could. That’s a shame, too, because it won’t work. I won’t let you make me feel bad about anything.

I, along with everyone else I know, have had to ask for help at one time or another. I didn’t always like asking for help; sometimes asking was very humiliating, other times it was liberating. But I came to realize that there are definite times in my life that I have to get outside help because I’ve done all I can do by myself. During whatever the situation may have been, though, I never once tried to forget my problems by pointing out someone else’s. That’s what you do, though. You seem to think that if you can’t control your own life you’ll try to control everybody else’s and you just can’t do that. It’s your way of trying to justify the lack of control you have in your own world and it makes you feel better knowing you can try to control, at least, something.

Let me ask you this, though. How is that method working for you? I’m willing to bet it’s not working at all because every time you try it you end up being more miserable than when you started. I can see it on your face, I can read it in your body language, and I can hear it in your voice. You always end up feeling defeated, but, at the same time, you’re trying to figure out how you can possibly win the next battle. Let me answer that for you: You can’t, not against me, anyway.

You will never win against me again. I know that for a fact because when I finally came to terms with the fact that I needed help to get me past my hurdles, and when I finally asked for it, I got more help than I ever could have imagined. I not only learned how to find the resources I need whenever I need them, but also how to defend myself against people who feel the need to tell me I’m not good enough. No, you may not say it directly using those words, although you have in the past, but your attitude, and your little digs, and trying to fight with me when your issue has nothing to do with me; those are all your methods of trying to tell me I need to make some changes in myself.

Let’s get this straight: While your life is in such a state of upheaval, and until you become 100% perfect in every way, you have no right whatsoever to tell me, or anyone else for that matter, that I’m not good enough. You don’t even have the right to suggest it. I know it sucks for you to have to hear that. For some reason you have this image in your head that you’re better than most people and I don’t know why. I know that you’ve spent most of your life trying to live up to the expectations you think others have for you, and that when you can’t live up to them you feel like a failure. That’s when you try to push others down; it’s an effort on your part to build yourself back up again.

That’s not working for you, either, because I can see right through you and it saddens me. I feel sorry for you because you still haven’t learned to just be you and probably haven’t even figured out who “you” are. There’s nothing wrong with that because a lot of people I know are still working on finding out who they are. I’m still working on me. But at least we all take responsibility for who we are to date, and our actions from the past and present, and we will continue to do the same in the future. You, however, refuse to accept that for yourself. It’s never your fault, you never do anything wrong, and you don’t need any help.

As long as you keep trying to use me, and others who are close to you, as a verbal punching bag for your egotistical boost I’ll fight back, and I will win. I promise you, too, that until you come to terms with your own truth you will never break free from your past; and you will never be able to move forward. You have some thinking to do, some decisions to make, and some help to request. In other words, you choose what happens to you.

Until next time…peace to all.

 

Discussion Is a Two-Way Street

I’ve been sitting here for a while now trying to decide whether or not to discuss this issue and I finally decided that I want to put it out there. I have to preface it, though, by saying that I’m a critical thinker; I question everything. I also teach my kids to question everything. “I don’t care if your teacher told you that? What do you believe and why?” I make them think, and re-think, and ask questions on all sides of an argument. And I expect adults to do the same, although I think I’m expecting too much. I’ll tell you why.

A friend of mine posted something on Facebook about how she doesn’t believe in religion. She said it wasn’t intended to offend anyone; it was simply a reflection of her own beliefs. One of her friends, who apparently is very religious, got offended and began a verbal attack on what my friend had posted. Why? What was the point of the attack and why did she get so offended? Isn’t my friend allowed to have and express her own opinion?

It’s not my friend’s fault that her friend got offended but my friend then felt like she needed to further explain why she posted what she did, and why she believes what she believes. She actually tried to downplay it so her friend wouldn’t continue to be so angry. I think that was wrong. My friend ought not to have had to lighten her words simply because someone else disagreed with her. I guess she felt she needed to, though. That’s not fair, folks.

I really wanted to throw a wrench into the mix and make the religious chick explain her opinion and why she believes so whole-heartedly in her religion. I wanted to lay out a whole line of questions for her to answer with something other than “because it’s what I’ve always been taught/told.” I wanted to start a huge debate with her simply for the fact that I wanted to make her defend herself with solid facts. But I didn’t do it.

I did post that I thought the conversation was interesting and that I wanted to throw in the wrench but that I wasn’t going to. I haven’t seen a response yet because it’s late here, so I don’t know yet what my friend will say to my comment. I don’t want her to feel like she started a war just because she posted about her beliefs. She and I believe the same way so I’m sure she’ll be interested in my comments; she just may not want her friend to get any more offended than she already is.

I just want her friend to understand that there are two sides to every argument, sometimes more, and that she doesn’t have to stand on a belief just because someone told her to. I can’t recall ever meeting anyone in my life, so far, who, as a child, liked going to Sunday school or Catechism, or whatever class they had to attend for their religion. Everyone I ask tells me they hated it and they hated having religion forced on them as children. Yet, as adults, they believe what they were taught as kids. Why?

Didn’t anyone ever tell them it was okay to ask questions, to look for answers elsewhere? Granted, most people have their beliefs and are fine with mine, yet some people get downright defensive and antsy when I question why they believe what they do. That doesn’t make sense to me. From past experience, anyone I’ve ever known who got defensive was hiding something.

I’m not even just talking about religion here. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with healthy discussion on any topic yet so many people get offended when they get challenged. If you don’t want to discuss the topic just say so; don’t get angry and start throwing out a bunch of bullshit that has nothing to do with why you hold that particular opinion or belief. Either back up your beliefs, or shut up completely. And don’t make someone else feel bad because they don’t believe what you do, or because they question you about it. If that’s the way you want to be I’ll throw so many questions at you that you’ll end up more confused than when you started. That’s my guarantee to you.

Until next time… peace to all.

Need To Vent A Little

I was too tired to post last night; I guess all the talk about Cathy just drained me. I don’t feel like continuing the shelter saga tonight, either. I need to rest my brain a bit. You don’t mind, I’m sure. I just think I need to realign and get my thoughts in order again before I can continue; it won’t take long, it never does. I hope it doesn’t, anyway.

Lately I can’t go to sleep before 2:00a.m. even though I’m exhausted and have to get up at 7:00a.m. to get the kids ready for school. Once I fall asleep I have funky dreams; this has been for about two weeks now and I don’t know why. I hung a dream catcher next to my bed the other day hoping it would help but so far it hasn’t. My dreams are milder but still funked up.

The only reason I can think of for the dreams is that I spend a lot of time lately trying to get things in order in my home and in my life. I’m still unpacking things and I’m having an issue with getting motivated. I just haven’t felt like getting up every morning and going through boxes but I think I’m ready to start now. I got some things done today and have about eight more boxes to sort through so I’ll get started on it tomorrow – I think.

It’s only a matter of opening them and sorting through all the paperwork and deciding what to keep and what to toss. It’s stuff I can do while sitting in front of the TV so it really isn’t that difficult of a chore. Lately the thought of it, though, just drains my energy. I think the reason for that is because after all my unpacking and sorting are done, and the house is semi-complete, I have to move on to the next step in my life – getting an internship.

Getting an internship means I have to leave the house during the day while the kids are at school and go to work in the legal field for a few hours a week to gain the experience I need to get a full-time job as a paralegal. No, I’m not lazy; no, I’m not averse to hard work; I’m scared, that’s what it is. Although I worked from the time I was 15 years old I haven’t held a full-time job outside my home since Tyler was born in November of 2001. I actually worked for just about 20 years when I became a stay-at-home mom.

Now I have to get back into the work force to put my $40K degree to some good use. I’ve got banks hounding me about my school loans but that’s not an issue for me. They can wait; I’ve only sent them the deferment papers three times. It’s not my fault if they can’t keep track of them. Regardless, I need to get a job to support my family, and I want to do it, I’m just really scared to go job hunting. I’ve been searching for a job for a couple of years but nobody wants to hire me as a paralegal because, and I’ve told you this already, I don’t have the requisite experience.

I figured an internship would give me the experience I need to add to my resume so I can get a full-time job that will eventually lead to me being able to freelance and work from home. I’ve got a lot of plans; it’s just that putting them into action is what scares me. I try to be positive about it but I keep thinking about starting a job at my age and people younger than me, who already have experience, looking at me like I’ve been in an institution for the past twenty years.

No, I don’t really care what other people think about me. I’m just trying to rationalize my fears and rambling to you is allowing me to vent. Maybe if I lay it all out here I’ll be able to think more clearly tomorrow and get a plan in place and actually put it into action. I love the time I have here at home, alone, but I think it affords me too much time to think and re-think and think some more and then I confuse myself and then I get more scared. But at least I’ve said it out loud, sort of. Hopefully I’ll be able to realign now and do what needs to be done. I’ll let you know; thanks for listening.

Until next time…peace to all.

So Done With Cathy

Fair warning to all, this will be a really long post because I’m going to finish with Cathy tonight; her story’s almost over and I’m tired of talking about her. I just want to get her out of my system. I’ve already mentioned this incident in my January 2, 2012 post but now you’ll get all the details. I told you, after the house meeting where everything was chalked up to a personality conflict between her and me I backed way off of everything. I was still friends with L but pretty much stayed away from everyone else. I did what I had to do and that was it. I was cordial to everyone because I believe that, regardless of how much you dislike someone, you can still be respectful. That I was.

Cathy, on the other hand, began to change, and it wasn’t for the better. She’d gotten away with so much that she figured she’d add to the list. Just before Christmas she was due to get kicked out for her antics but CM fought on her behalf because she felt bad putting Cathy and her kids back in rotation at Social Services during the holidays. Fuck that! If the chick deserves to be tossed, toss her. But CM fought with central housing to allow Cathy to stay. Big mistake.

Cathy continued breaking the rules whenever she got the chance; Chatty still did what he wanted to do because “my mom says it’s okay”; Cathy argued with staff who confronted her; and staff kept putting in their write-ups only to have them ignored. Cathy was living the high life around the PRD house. Unfortunately for her, or maybe it was fortunate for the rest of us, she began to go too far with her bullshit.

She was still taking about L and me and we knew because Marcy would tell L about it. L was still friendly with all of them because that’s what her religion told her to do. She was studying to convert to a different religion than she currently held and, ironically enough, Cathy was studying to convert to that same religion – and they both had the same teacher because of the area in which we were located. Imagine that. They didn’t discuss religion with one another often but they did occasionally. L, however, told me that Cathy’s behavior countered what she’d supposedly been taught. L had the same lessons so she knew what Cathy was learning and she said that their teacher would be appalled at Cathy’s behavior.

Since L was still friendly with all the residents she’d find out from Marcy what Cathy was saying about L and me, and then Cathy would speak to L about Marcy and me and other residents. Cathy was also discussing the mom and her teens who’d recently moved out to live with relatives. They had been friends but I guess them leaving gave Cathy license to discuss them too. Another girl had moved in upstairs with her daughter and she spoke to me in the kitchen one day telling me that she’d heard a lot about me. She’d heard that I gossiped about everyone and that I thought I owned the place. I just laughed and asked her what she thought. She said she’d been there for a couple of weeks and that I didn’t seem like anything she’d been told. She was friends with Cathy, too, so you can imagine where she got her information. I just told her to be careful and wished her a nice day before I left.

Staff was even beginning to dislike Cathy. FC, who’d been friends with her, had a hard time tolerating Cathy anymore. She’d told me, of her own accord, that she’d been the one to try to get Cathy discharged before the holidays because she saw the upheaval Cathy was bringing to the house but that CM had allowed Cathy to stay. FC wouldn’t even speak to her because Cathy had lipped off to her when she was reprimanded. My favorite staff member, GG, who never liked Cathy, had reprimanded her often and every time Cathy would give attitude then would go off on him to other residents to the point that he’d return to her and actually yell at her and tell her that his job was more important than her attitude.

Chatty was also taking it upon himself to take over the house, as set by his mother’s example. L came to me one day telling me there’d been a confrontation with her daughter, D, who was a teenager, and Chatty, who was eight. I don’t recall the exact nature of the first confrontation between them but I do know that Chatty did his best to get in D’s face and D, who had mental issues, had to work really hard to control her temper with him. She can be dangerous when provoked because of her issues – which are being medically treated – and staff and other residents knew it. If you treat her right she’s one of the sweetest kids I know. Regardless, Cathy decided to intervene on her son’s behalf and L got angry. I guess she decided it was her place to discipline D which is a big no-no in the parental circle. L calmly and politely told Cathy to come directly to her the next time she had an issue with D. Cathy said she would but just turned away with a “whatever” comment.

A week or so later, on New Year’s Eve, another confrontation took place between the two kids. L had texted me about it but without the details. I was working with Mark and Ursula so I didn’t have time to chat. When I was done working I had to go pick up my kids at a relative’s house and asked L if she and D wanted to ride along to get out of the house. They did so I picked them up and they filled me in on the details of the incident.

D had been in the upstairs common room watching TV when Chatty came in and changed the channel without even asking permission. D, who didn’t like Chatty at all, took the remote back from him and changed the channel back to her program. Chatty, who was a bit of a crybaby, ran into the kitchen to tell his mother what D had done without ever telling her what he’d done. Cathy got angry, waltzed into the common room, snatched the remote out of D’s hand and changed the channel again. Then she told D never to do that to her son again but ignored D when she tried to defend herself. Cathy tried to apologize to D later but it was too late for L.

New Year’s Day L and I gathered our kids to go food shopping and when we returned Cathy was still in the kitchen, where she’d been when we left mind you, and she was talking to Marcy, or rather, at her; Marcy wasn’t really paying attention. Dolly was in there with Marcy’s toddler and my boys went into the common room to watch TV. Cathy wasn’t about to move so I put my bags on the table in front of her and began packing out my groceries.

L walked up to Cathy and very politely and calmly – I was standing right next to them – requested that the next time Cathy had an issue with D Cathy come to her. She said she’d asked her before and was asking again to be polite, but the next time something happened they’d have a big issue. Cathy and her dumbass attitude decided to take offense and she jumped from her seat and got directly in L’s face and started screaming at her. She told L that if she’d teach her daughter some manners nobody would have to say anything to her. L was angry; we all knew D wasn’t the problem child. But L held her temper and told Cathy to back up out of her face to which Cathy just laughed and said she didn’t have to do anything anybody told her to do.

She was screaming so loudly that GG, who was staff for the day, came running upstairs. I told all of my kids – the boys had come running in – and Chatty to leave the kitchen. I was going to let the women do what they had to do but the kids didn’t need to see it. I continued putting away my groceries, Marcy continued cleaning her dishes, GG tried to interrupt the argument, and L tried really hard to control her anger but it didn’t work. The women began screaming back and forth – Cathy talking shit about D and L telling Cathy to back out of her face. I guess L’s anger got the best of her because she shoved Cathy backward to get her away and Cathy started swinging. L yanked off her boots to get better footing and they went at it. On instinct I jumped in between them, Marcy pushed her toddler out of the kitchen and grabbed L from behind, and GG helped Marcy.

Meantime I had one arm up to block L and my other arm against Cathy, using my body weight to push her backward away from L. At some point I got slammed in the back of the head with Cathy’s cell phone, which was in her hand. I found out later that she thought it was funny that she hit me in the head. What a fucking bitch. Anyway, I kept pushing against her. It wasn’t an easy task because I already told you she was about twice my weight, and only my height. My adrenalin worked, though, and I got her back to the wall through all of her swinging and screaming at L. Once she was against the wall she yelled at me, “Get the fuck off me!!” Lucky for her she didn’t try to push me off or I’d have belted her. I moved, L went into her room, Marcy and I checked on our kids and on ourselves – she’d been scratched a couple of times, and GG went downstairs to call FC. I gave my kids lunch, got some ice for my head, and went outside to calm down.

A few minutes later FC arrived along with the head FC, HFC, and her really large son who also worked for PRD. The senior case manager, SCM, also arrived. The house was on lockdown which meant no TV and everybody had to be in their rooms. I wasn’t happy about that because I hadn’t done anything wrong. GG, FC, and HFC all told me I was okay to sit outside with my kids. And they all went inside to do what they had to do, which carried good news and bad news.

Cathy was getting discharged for the fight; she had no choice in the matter. All of her write-ups and attitude and arguments with staff were also a part of it but the fight wrapped it all up neatly. She was out. Unfortunately, L and D were also discharged. Apparently one of the major rules of PRD is that fighting is an automatic discharge regardless of the circumstances; no defense is good enough. Since the next day, Monday, was a holiday both families had to stay at PRD but would return to Social Services on Tuesday. Until then Cathy and her kids were confined to their room and staff had to be up in the kitchen when Cathy was up there to make sure Cathy didn’t start any shit with L.

They spent Monday packing their belongings and Tuesday they were taken by separate cabs, at separate times, back to Social Services. L and D dealt with it and were placed in a motel about a half hour away from me; Cathy, however, called CM numerous times during the day, bawling up a storm, begging to come back, but was told by CM that there was nothing she could do to help. CM told her she’d done more than enough to help Cathy in the past but Cathy chose to not follow the rules so now she had to deal with the consequences of her actions. Cathy and her kids were placed out in East Bum-Fuck Long Island miles and miles away from her family and friends, who all lived in Brooklyn. Sucked to be her but I, for one, was extremely happy she was gone.

Apparently so was everyone else in the house. Marcy had a nice talk with me and apologized for the way she’d treated me. She said it took her a while to realize what a shit Cathy was but she’d pretty much been cold to Cathy for the couple of weeks prior. She’d listen politely then walk away. Staff was more at ease without Cathy there and tension in the house dissipated. I missed L and D but we still talked on the phone, and still do today even though they’ve moved to Florida to start their lives over.

I have no idea what happened to Cathy and her kids after that day other than to find out they were placed so far away. I was told that, although they had their own little suite in the shelter they went to, the rules there were much stricter and that the staff wouldn’t take any of her shit. Maybe someone finally got her to understand that she’s not a fucking queen and that she will be treated like every other resident that lived there. I don’t know, and I don’t really care. I’m done talking about her, although her name may come up briefly in the future. For now the Cathy chapter is closed and I can move on from here. Thank goodness.

Until next time… peace to all.

Cathy...Part Three: Almost Done

When CM arrived the next morning and went over whatever report had been written about the event from the day before she called a house meeting. All residents had to be there unless they were working, which they weren’t, so we all followed her to the upper common room. She began by saying that incidents had taken place on the weekends and she wasn’t happy about it and she asked me what had happened the day before.

I tried to fill her in but Cathy and her attitude kept interrupting and trying to interject something or call me a liar. It got to the point that I flat out told CM that if I wasn’t allowed to speak I was leaving the meeting whether she liked it or not and that she could just write me up for it because I didn’t care. She told Cathy to keep quiet and I continued. I’d no sooner said a full sentence when Cathy interrupted again. I stood up and said I was leaving; I told CM that apparently I wasn’t going to be allowed to say what I needed to say so she just needed to let Cathy fill her in on all the details since she obviously knew better than I did.

I was halfway down the stairs when CM called me back up and very forcefully told Cathy to keep her mouth shut. I finished telling CM what had happened including Cathy’s way of referring to my kids and her telling my son to mind his own business. Cathy’s said she never swore in reference to my kids so I asked if she wanted me to have Zach talk to CM when he got home from school. She didn’t answer. Then she said that my son had no right interrupting an adult conversation and I told her he did if the conversation was about him and he felt the need to correct the incorrect information. She was not happy.

Then she proceeded to tell CM that I had no business diagnosing her son and telling my kids that he had the flu. Again I was being accused of something I hadn’t done. CM asked Cathy what she was talking about and she told CM that she’d overheard Dolly telling Chatty that my kids couldn’t play with him because he had the flu. L, who was sitting next to me on the sofa, spoke up and said she was the one who’d suggested Chatty had the flu. Cathy just stared at her and said it had to be me because it was my daughter who’d repeated it. Big fucking deal! I guess kids don’t hear anyone but their parents, right?

CM asked me if I’d told my kids Chatty had the flu. I said I didn’t but that L had been speaking to Cathy in the yard about Chatty possibly having the flu. L then said that Dolly had been standing nearby so that was probably where she’d heard it. CM agreed and Cathy wasn’t happy. Then she went into a tirade about me telling my kids not to play with her son; I had no right, there was nothing wrong with him, blah, blah, blah. She was shot down there, too, because CM said that if Chatty had been sick all weekend to the point that he couldn’t get off the sofa then I had a right to keep my kids away from him until Cathy found out what was wrong with him. Another point for me.

Cm then asked me what the other problems were so I filled her in on all the broken rules, the changing of the diapers on the sofa, having to explain to my kids why we had to follow rules when Cathy didn’t, and, most of all, about me being accused of saying shit I’d never said; specifically that weekend and the incident a few weeks before with teen boy. CM didn’t even want that incident being brought up but Cathy was yelling at me that I needed to take responsibility for what I’d said. She and Marcy copped attitudes, laughing at me like I was an idiot. L responded again that she was the one who’d made the comment about the ashtray but nobody wanted to listen to her. Again, CM said she wasn’t going to rehash past events.

All she said was that all residents had to follow the rules and that the house was so out of control that if we didn’t start getting along she’d have to discharge all of us. Fuck that!! I was so angry I couldn’t stand it. CM actually said that it seemed like the entire problem was a personality conflict between Cathy and me which I vehemently refuted. I flat out said that it had nothing to do with a personality conflict; that it had to do with Cathy getting away with whatever she wanted and the rest of us having to deal with it. CM just looked at me and said she was done talking and the meeting was over. As we walked down the stairs I started to tell her that she didn’t hear a word I’d said but all she did was brush me off saying she didn’t want to hear another word about it. What-the-fuck-ever!!

I grabbed my smokes and my phone and went out front. I was so angry that I wanted to explode on someone. I sat on the curb, away from everyone and called a friend of mine to vent. I’d been there about 45 minutes or so when CM came to the front door calling my name. I ignored her the first couple of times but the third time she called I snapped at her, “WHAT!? I’m ON the PHONE!” She said I had a phone call in the office that I needed to take. So I told my friend I’d call her back and I started to walk toward the back door. Residents weren’t allowed to go in and out the front door unless we were moving in, moving out, or had lots of groceries to bring in.

CM walked with me saying that she understood how I was feeling but that staff wasn’t allowed to discuss other residents with us. I just ignored her. She went on saying that she knew there was a problem with Cathy and that it was being handled. I responded, “Bullshit! If it was being handled she wouldn’t still be here after five months of write-ups and attitudes.” I told her that from that point on I was going to keep my mouth shut about anything and everything that didn’t have to do with my family. I told her that if there were other incidents in the house not to bother asking me if I knew anything because as far as I was concerned I didn’t know shit about anything. I told her someone could be beating the shit out of their kid and I wouldn’t care in the least; it wasn’t my problem to be concerned with anyone but my kids. She wasn’t happy but said she understood why I felt that way.

Ironically enough, after that meeting Cathy began to change and CM ended up eating her words about the personality conflict. A lot of shit went down after that day and I just sat back and laughed at all of it. It was no longer my business and I didn’t care. As bad as I felt for the other residents I didn’t feel like any of them, other than L and her daughter, deserved my assistance after the way they’d treated me. They were on their own. But the shit continued building until it exploded to the point of no return; and that time it had nothing at all to do with me.

Until next time…peace to all.

 

Cathy...Part Two

As weeks passed Cathy began speaking to me again, trying to be overly nice and friendly. As much as I disliked her I responded to her because I’m not the type of person to really shun anyone and since we had to live in the same house it was better that we were all cordial to one another. She still pulled all her bullshit crap and I still hated it but there was nothing I could do about it so I did my best to tolerate everything.

There was one Sunday when a relative of hers came to the shelter to visit her and her kids and they completely took over the lower common room. My kids had been sitting there watching TV and decided they wanted lunch so we went upstairs to eat. By the time we got back downstairs there wasn’t a space left on the sofa so I collected the toys my kids had left there and we all went into our room to watch a DVD together. My friends Mark and Ursula had given me a laptop as a Christmas gift so the kids could watch Netflix or videos in our room. The kids weren’t happy to be in our room that day but I just explained that the common room would be available soon enough. It wasn’t.

Visitors could stay until 6:00 and that’s exactly what her relative did. My kids couldn’t watch TV in there all day and the upper common room was occupied by other residents so the kids and I just hung out together. At one point I left our room to go outside to have a smoke and was disgusted. Cathy was changing her baby’s shitty diaper on the sofa where everyone in the house sits. Her room was about three steps away from the sofa but the lazy bitch didn’t bother getting up to do the right thing; another broken rule on her part.

The following weekend Chatty had a headache. Apparently he had a headache so bad that he couldn’t do anything; he lay on the sofa all day long on Saturday and Sunday watching TV. Another two rules broken by Cathy. First of all because no resident is permitted to lie down on the sofas because it doesn’t leave room for anyone else to sit there. Second, because if your child is sick the child must stay in the resident’s room unless the family is eating. When Dolly wasn’t feeling well and stayed home from school one day I had to keep her in our room even though none of the other residents were home. I guess that didn’t apply to Cathy and to make matters worse she let him stay downstairs while she was upstairs watching TV with her friends.

That Sunday my kids were outside playing with L’s daughter and L and I were chatting. Cathy came outside for whatever reason and L walked over to ask her how Chatty was feeling. She suggested that Cathy take him to a doctor and offered Cathy some headache medicine for him. L told Cathy that usually when a kid has a headache that bad it means he’s getting the flu. They finished talking, L came back and sat with me, and my kids decided to go inside to watch TV. Chatty had gone upstairs to eat so I told my kids to stay downstairs away from him because I didn’t want them getting sick. Well, I guess he finished eating because he appeared downstairs and tried to play with my kids.

Did I mention that he not only talks non-stop but that he was really pushy and got in people’s faces to talk to them? Well that was him. My kids told me he wouldn’t leave them alone so I told them to go upstairs and leave him downstairs. He followed them and Zach came back downstairs to tell me. I told them to come back downstairs. Out of the blue Cathy storms out onto the back stoop and yells at me, “Am I going crazy or did you tell your kids not to play with my son because they might get sick?!” I told her I did say that. She proceeded to scream at me telling me I had no right to tell them to stay away from him because he wasn’t sick.

I simply told her that he’d been sick with a headache for two days straight and I didn’t want my kids around him until she found out what was wrong with her son. Then she went on to discuss my kids who she apparently thought had been sick weeks before but had been all over the house. Zach had come back outside and heard her and started to tell her that none of them had been sick but Ty had allergies which would account for his coughing. She looked at my son and told him to but out because she was talking to me and it was none of his business. I got really defensive and told her not to speak to my kid that way.

She continued to scream at me, and I mean scream. Then she really got to me and was lucky she was across the yard from me. I don’t recall the entire sentence she said but it contained the words, “your God damned kids…” Fuck that!!! I lost my temper real quick. I yelled at her that nobody refers to my kids that way and that she needed to shut her mouth; I was taking it to staff. I flew past her into the office where staff was on the phone. I very rudely told him I needed his attention, closed the door and told him what had happened. Since he couldn’t do anything to help he had to call FC who, after getting all the details simply told him to tell me to keep my kids away from Chatty and for me to stay away from Cathy, that it would be handled the next day when CM got there.

Was she fucking kidding? Did she really think I was going anywhere near that bitch on purpose? I think I’ve already told you that FC didn’t do much and apparently was on call for problems but left them to be handled by CM. What the fuck was she getting paid to do? I still have no clue. Regardless, I loaded my kids into our room and got them ready for bed. The next morning I knew there was going to be a house meeting because this was the second incident that had happened on a weekend involving the same residents. Mind you, I was the target in both incidents yet I hadn’t done a fucking thing to provoke any of it. The outcome of the house meeting basically confirmed to me that Cathy was queen of PRD and the rest of us were just there to take her abuse. You’ll see why when I come back tomorrow.

Until next time…peace to all.

Cathy Incident Number One

My apologies in advance because this will be another long post, but this story is difficult to shorten. After Cathy and her kids moved in two friends of mine and their families had come and gone, and two more families moved in. One was a young girl, Marcy, and her baby; and the other was a mom with three kids – a preteen daughter who was very sweet, and a teenaged boy and girl who were typical street kids. No disrespect or offense intended toward anyone but these two kids were the types of kids who really won’t amount to much if someone doesn’t step in. They were both failing in school; they used worse language than I do; they both smoked, at 14 and 16; their answer to any problem was to “beat someone’s ass”; and they treated their mother with such disrespect I wanted to slap them.

Marcy became fast friends with Cathy with that same “follow the leader” attitude that Josie had with Betty, and the teens became friends with Cathy when they moved in because she had the same attitude that they did and they thought it was cool that an adult understood them. Their mom was a bit  messed up also because one day she’d be telling Cathy not to associate with her kids because they were just kids even though they appeared older; and the next day she’d let the kids leave the shelter with Cathy to go hang out at Marcy’s friend’s house. The entire group of them was like a high school clique that thought they were better than the rest of us.

Their basic objective was to spend their time making fun of us “old” people and to spread shit about us, even when it wasn’t true. That’s how the incident I mentioned came to pass. L and I had been sitting in the kitchen one morning just talking about our kids and whatever came to mind. Then Marcy came into the kitchen and began joining in our conversation. She brought up the teens acting as if they were getting on her nerves – yet when she was with them they were all best friends – and telling us she was tired of them always asking for food and whatnot from her. L mentioned that they’d asked us for cigarettes but that neither she nor I would give any to the teens. Then L mentioned that she’d seen teen boy looking for clips in the ashtray in the back yard.

Marcy and I both admitted that it was gross and I left the kitchen to go do whatever it was that I had to do. I told L I’d meet her in the yard when the kids went out to play, and that’s what I did. We’d been out there for about a half hour or so when teen boy came out to the back stoop with his older sister in tow and proceeded to berate me for telling people I’d seen him digging in the ashtray for cigarette clips. This 14-year-old little shit was talking to me like he was my lord and master. I very calmly told him that I’d never said such a thing and that he needed to take his attitude back in the house. He ignored me and continued to tell me to mind my own business and not to be spreading rumors about him. I repeated what I’d said the first time, with a little more authority and ended it by telling him that if he didn’t get back inside with his attitude I’d take the issue up with staff.

That snot-nosed little shit looked me in the eye and said, “Go ahead!” And when I didn’t immediately jump off the bench I was sitting on, he sucked his teeth and said, “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” and he turned and went back inside the house. My anger raged inside me and my very first thought was, “Don’t fucking challenge me, mother fucker!” Good thing I kept my mouth shut. Nobody in that house had ever seen me as angry as I was right then, and it took every ounce of my self-control not to race after that boy and beat the ever-loving crap out of him. Zach, who was eight at the time, was livid because nobody talks to his mama that way and he took off after teen boy screaming, “I’m gonna kill him!!” I literally had to grab the back of Zach’s shirt to stop him and I made him sit with L, but I was inside the house and up the stairs to the upper common room in a heartbeat. That’s where H was and she’s the one I needed to see about it.

Right in front of all the clique assholes I went straight up to H, who could tell I was holding back some serious anger, and I told her I needed to speak to her because I wasn’t pleased with the way the little boy had spoken to me or accused me of something I didn’t do. I described teen boy coming into the yard, yelling at me with his accusations, and refusing to leave when I asked him to. Then he started to interrupt me while I was telling her and I looked directly at him and said, “You shut up, I’m not fucking speaking to you!” His mother was stunned because she hadn’t realized he was being so rude to anyone but her, he was stunned because he didn't realize I could be so rude, but Cathy and Marcy sat there smiling, enjoying the chaos they'd created.

H went back downstairs with me and we talked in her office. I explained everything about the incident and how it was L who’d made the statement about the ashtray, not me, but that Marcy had mentioned to Cathy what was said and Cathy had decided to change the story for her own personal pleasure. I know that’s how it happened because Marcy wasn’t the type to speak spread anything herself, she’d wait until Cathy did and then join in the fun. But I didn’t just tell H about that incident, I told her everything that had been happening in the shelter with regard to Cathy and her little group.

I told her how I felt about the broken rules, the constant attitude, the spreading of rumors, not being able to feed my kids breakfast until lunchtime or let my kids watch TV because Chatty was always in control of it – I told her everything that had been festering inside of me. She agreed with everything I’d said and told me that she’d written things up time and again but that nothing was being done about it. She wrote down everything I said and then asked me to send L into the office to discuss it with her. And she went down the line with everyone in the house until she had all the information she needed.

She was going to put in a report for the case manager to deal with on Monday but L and I knew it wouldn’t do any good because FC would be there too and she was friends with Cathy. H did what she had to do but I also changed my attitude that day. I made it perfectly clear to everyone in that group that they needed to stay away from me, to stay out of my business, and to leave me the hell alone. The teens’ mom actually apologized to me for her son’s behavior toward me, she felt bad about it but I told her I didn’t want him around me for any reason. She agreed and was fine with it. Everyone else knew I meant business too because they didn’t even look me in the eye when we passed in the halls. They knew better because the next time something happened I was going to explode on someone.

I don’t know what happened when CM got the report or if any of them were even spoken to about the incident that took place; nothing was ever mentioned to me about it again. The little clique still hung out together, still had their attitudes, and still talked about us behind our backs, but nobody directly bothered me again – for a while. Then, a few weeks later, Cathy actually had the nerve to come at me for trying to protect my kids from getting sick. When you hear about that incident you’ll see just how manipulative she was, and probably still is; and how she got even worse in the aftermath.

Until next time…peace to all.

 

Let's Talk About Rude

Before I tell you any more about Cathy, I’m going to fill you in on how the system at PRD worked when it came to residents other than her. It was supposed to be the same for all of us but it didn’t seem to work that way. If a resident broke the rules the case manager was supposed to write it up. I don’t know how many write-ups we were allowed before getting discharged but I do know that depending on the type of infraction a resident could be discharged immediately.

There were numerous residents who got written up for not doing chores; I even got written up once in the entire 11 months I was there. I was late leaving for a meeting because staff had me in the office going over something or other and I forgot to do my chore before I left. I remembered it as I was on my way but didn’t have my Bluetooth hooked up so I couldn’t call to tell staff I’d forgotten, and I forgot to call by the time I reached my destination so I got a write-up. I didn’t care, it was my only one. On another occasion when I’d forgotten to do my chore in the morning I did call and was allowed to do it upon my return to the shelter. No write-up for that one.

However, four other families got written up all the time, some for things the parents had done and others for things their kids had done. The case manager would do her best to work with them to keep them from being discharged but that only goes so far. One family eventually found a place of their own and left but the other three were discharged for a combination of write-ups, attitudes, and missing curfew. Once they missed curfew the case manager had no choice but to discharge them, according to what I was told are the rules.

Yet, when it came to Cathy, she broke rules on a constant basis, had a seriously nasty attitude, and missed curfew at least twice that I knew about but she was never discharged. She even announced to us residents that she didn’t plan on following the rules and apparently that’s the only time she was true to her word. Her first night there my friend K and I were in the upper common room watching TV after we’d put our kids to bed. Cathy came up and sat on the second sofa and began talking up a friggin’ storm. K and I had an unwritten rule that you don’t talk while the show is on, you wait for a commercial. Cathy, however, never shut up. It was almost like she needed to make sure her voice still worked. So, as annoyed with her as we were, we were answering her questions about how life at PRD worked. Even though she’d been told the rules we went over them again when she asked us.

We told her about the chores, we told her about parents having to be with their kids at all times, we told her kids not being allowed in the kitchen without a parent, and we told her that the kitchen closed at 10:00 unless there was a medical need or a baby needed to be fed. She shook her head, sucked her teeth and said, “Shit, ain’t nobody gonna tell me what to do. I’ma do what I feel like doin’.” K and I just looked at each other and tried to go back to our show. Eventually I said good night and went downstairs simply because I couldn’t take Cathy’s voice anymore.

True to her word, though, the next morning she began her way of living whether anyone liked it or not. Her son was always in the kitchen getting himself something to eat; she had the TVs on during school hours when they were supposed to be off; she did her chore if and when she felt like it, and only half-assed when she did do it; she left her babies unattended in their room while she was in the common room or the kitchen. She was in the kitchen constantly for hours at a time preventing others families from getting in there. Her excuse was that her babies were hungry. Her babies were one and two, they didn’t eat that much, however Cathy was an oversized girl; she’d give her kids cereal and then proceed to make herself an omelet with sausage, and pancakes. Are you getting my drift here? It had nothing to do with her kids being hungry.

When the TVs were allowed to be on – after 6:00 or on weekends or holidays when all the kids were out of school – she’d plant her son in the lower common room to watch TV and she’d sit upstairs with her babies watching what she wanted to watch. She didn’t care that no other child got to watch TV as long as her son was out of her face. If my kids did get to watch TV Chatty would walk in and change the channel without even asking if it was okay. He learned that from his mother and I know that for a fact because before school one morning Dolly and I were watching TV before it was time to take her to the bus. Chatty sat on the couch next to us and complained to his mother that he didn’t want to watch what Dolly and I were watching. Cathy picked up the remote and put on what Chatty wanted to watch and didn’t think twice that my daughter was upset about it. What the fuck?

I’m telling you, this chick was the ultimate bitch, and two-faced at that. She’d smile to your face and talk behind your back to her friends in the shelter. My friends and I, who were older than Cathy and her friends there – she and her friends were in their early-to-mid-twenties, the rest of us were all 30 and over – couldn’t stand being around her and her attitude around the house was getting on our nerves. We were having great difficulty explaining to our kids why they couldn’t go in the kitchen alone when Chatty did it all the time; or why he was allowed to change the channel on the TV when the rule was that only an adult could use the remote, kids had to ask a parent or staff member to change the channel; or why Cathy and her kids were allowed to walk into the kitchen on our dinner hour when the rule was that dinner hours were private and for that family only.

She was making it really difficult to live in the house but there was nothing we could do about it. I tried my best to bite my tongue and answer my kids’ questions to the best of my ability, and I didn’t even complain to staff other than to mention that I couldn’t get into the kitchen to feed my kids or to do my chore when I had kitchen duty. I never mentioned names but they knew who the problem was and always chased her out, reiterating the rules at the same time. It made no difference. Then something happened one day that totally changed my attitude in that house, and it took every ounce of my being not to knock the shit out of someone. I’ll tell you about it but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow; if I don’t make this a little suspenseful you may not come back. J

Until next time…peace to all.

Back To The DOL We Go

I’m going to take us back to my second DOL appointment now.  Remember I said that I was given job search logs at my first meeting? I had four weeks to do 160 hours of job searches, 40 hours a week, and I was doing them, along with my housing logs. The first week wasn’t too bad although I had Dolly with me all day, but after the first week the boys were out of school. I’d spent a few days running back and forth to their schools for end-of-the-year performances, field days, school parties, and things like that. It was a lot of driving and a friend had lent me money for gas so I was good to go.

Trying to squeeze in housing logs and job search logs was tough, although I did them, sort of. The housing logs got done, all 30 calls; the job search logs, not so many. I only had about 17 hours of searches by the end of the week and it was all done via the Internet. It wasn’t what was asked of me but I didn’t care; I did the best I could with what I had. Then I had all three kids home with me, for a few days. When I went to the first appointment I’d been told that DOL would pay for day care or day camp. I called the people in charge of that department and got a list of day camps that take the DOL payment.

I got the kids enrolled in the approved day camp around the corner from the shelter and continued doing my job searches every day in the quiet of my room. Then I found out the rules changed. Betty told me about it; we were still friendly at that time. She said that shelter residents were now exempt from participating in DOL activities, but since nobody from DOL had officially told me not to do the job searches I continued doing them. I wasn’t about to get myself sanctioned for lack of cooperation.

On the day of the appointment I headed to the DOL after getting my kids to camp. I waited in the waiting area of the DOL for what seemed like forever although it was only about an hour. I’d been told that I’d be called to the back with a group of people for the class. What class? I wasn’t told anything about a class. I didn’t have time for a class; my kids got out of camp at 3:00. Regardless, I waited along with everyone else and we were finally called to the back.

When we got into the room we were instructed to sign in on the clipboard; our name, address, phone number, case number, and a box at the end to check whether or not we lived in emergency housing. I checked ‘yes’, of course. And I sat at the long conference table with about 12 other women/girls who’d also been told to be there for the class. I still didn’t know what class, but I did see a bunch of the other women with blank job search logs. Come to find out that the class I was supposed to attend that day was an instructional class on how to fill out the job search logs. I almost fell off the chair. Why was I wasting my time going to a class to learn to fill out forms I’d been filling out for a month? Stupid fucking rules.

I was sitting there waiting when a lady came out and called my name; I had to go back to her cubicle. She proceeded to tell me that since I lived in a shelter I was exempt from participating in any DOL activities for the summer and that I was free to go. What the fuck? I couldn’t believe I’d wasted an entire month working on those stupid job searches only to be told I didn’t need to. Now Betty had told me that but she’s not my case manager so I couldn’t listen to her. I grabbed up my belongings and went back to the shelter to report to the case manager that I was cut free from DOL for the time being.

The kids had been in camp for three weeks and only had a week to go, with a big party at the end of it. It was the first time they’d ever been to camp and they loved it so I was going to leave them there. About halfway through their last week I got a letter from DOL saying that I had to take my kids out of the camp because DOL wasn’t paying for it. Isn’t camp supposed to be paid in full at the beginning of the summer? I thought it was so I didn’t pay the letter any mind. Fuck the NYSDOL!! I wasn’t about to disappoint my kids yet again simply because of a change in the rules. I left them in the camp and left the problem with DOL. They’d wasted my time so now I was going to waste their money.

The whole issue of me having to go the appointments, stressing over the possibility of missing my son’s graduation, trying to squeeze time in to do housing logs and job search logs, and then returning only to find out that I didn’t have to participate made me sick. Someone had to know at my first appointment that the rules were changing, since they changed only two weeks after I began, yet I still had to comply with their bullshit. It’s almost like it was a joke on me.

I knew I’d have to return to the DOL after school started again in the fall but I put it in the back of my mind for the time being. I certainly wasn’t going to stress over something that wasn’t going to take place for weeks. Turns out it didn’t take place for months. I didn’t have to return until the end of January. Imagine that. School started in September and it was almost five months before I was called back into the DOL. That time they meant business, but I had one on them, and I won in the end. Fuck ‘em.

Until next time…peace to all.

In With the Worse!

I was sitting in the backyard one day with a friend from the shelter, we were having a smoke and our kids were playing in the yard. Suddenly a little boy came out the back door with a huge grin and introduced himself to our kids. All the kids that were playing outside introduced themselves to the little boy who then came over to my friend and me and introduced himself again. He said that he was going to live there now and that his mom was in the office. So they’d found a family for the empty room.

The first thing I noticed about this kid was that he wasn’t the least bit shy, not even around adults – that could be a good thing and a bad thing at the same time. The second thing I noticed was that he wouldn’t shut up. My friend, L, and I had been in the middle of a conversation when Chatty showed up and we wanted to get back to our conversation. But this child stood there asking us question after question, even when we suggested he go play with the other kids. We actually found it a bit rude that he kept interrupting us and even ruder that he wouldn’t listen when spoken to by an adult. Finally he ran off to join the rest of the kids in the yard and L and I got back to our conversation.

My kids were playing with L’s daughter and a couple of kids of another friend of mine there at the shelter. They were having light saber battles with my boys’ numerous toy light sabers. They invited Chatty to join them and it wasn’t but a few minutes until Chatty started playing too rough and hit one of the boys in the leg with a light saber. The kids told him to play less rough, and when the kids brought the problem to L and me we told him not to play so rough. He agreed but then resumed the rough play. L eventually told him he needed to go back inside with his mom. He didn’t like it and walked angrily back into the house.

I’m telling you this because what we found out later is that Chatty, while he could be a nice kid at times, was exactly like his mother. Kids learn by example and apparently he learned to be rude and ignore instructions from his mother’s behavior. That was her biggest problem, she didn’t listen and didn’t care what trouble it caused for her or anyone around her. See, she had her son, who was about my sons’ ages, and she had two other children, both much younger than her son, and she used her kids as her reason for ignoring rules; plus, she was really proud of the fact that she was rude.

She felt that she needed to behave the way she did to make it clear that she wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone, and she had to be tough because of the way she was raised. Whatever!! Everyone that I’d met in the shelter had a bad background but it didn’t mean that we got to behave so rudely to other people. This chick, though, I’ll call her Cathy, didn’t hesitate to make it clear that she wasn’t going to follow rules, and that nobody there at PRD was going to tell her what to do or when.

That wasn’t her only flaw, either. She was extremely two-faced. She’d say something to your face with a smile and then turn around and talk about you to someone else, making you out to be the bad guy. It happened a lot and caused some severe tension around that house. Staff shrugged it off and considered it a clash of personalities amongst the residents. Little did they know, but eventually everything boiled over like an erupting volcano.

I’m not going to go into details just yet; I simply wanted to introduce you to Cathy because there is a lot more to say about her. For now I’ll just let you use your imagination and see if what I tell you later matches what you thought it would be. It’s pretty interesting and I’m sure you’ve all dealt with people like Cathy before; but I’m guessing the ending you had with your Cathy was not like the ending we had with ours.

Until next time…peace to all.

Out With the Bad...

When I said that there were residents that caused problems for the rest us I mean they really caused problems; and most of their angst was directed toward me. I don’t know why but the only reason I can think of was because I just minded my own business. Years and years ago I was the type to gossip but I’ve since grown up. I’ve learned a lot over the years and one of the lessons I learned is that there are three types of business: The Universe’s business, my business, and other people’s business. If I’m anywhere but in my own business I’m in the wrong place.

So I did what I had to do at the shelter. I shared my business when it was needed, and I listened to other people’s business when it was asked of me. But, like I said previously, nothing said to me was ever repeated to the other residents. There were two occasions where I did butt in because I heard staff and residents making really ugly and severe accusations about a friend of mine there. I felt the need to tell her because I’d want someone to tell me if those same things were said about me. Other than that I never repeated anything; my conversations with others were kept private, regardless of the content.

Other residents had a problem with my attitude, though. When I first got there I met everyone in the house. One woman didn’t speak to anyone, another was really lovely but was on her way into her own place, and the last two had become friends with one another just from living there. One of them, Betty, was my age, had a couple of kids and had been there about two months; the other, Josie, was half our age, had a young child, and had been there almost a year. They were both really nice in the beginning and we all used to hang out, chatting and laughing, but they changed their attitudes a few months later.

Betty suddenly had an attitude toward me and I had no idea why. Josie followed Betty’s lead because that’s what she did. She was under the influence of her older friend and assumed that taking on the opinions and attitudes of her friend was the thing to do. I didn’t really care. They started acting like kids, though. I’d walk by and Betty would make a snide remark just loud enough for me to hear. Her comments were directed toward me about the way I looked, or the way I raised my kids, or some other stupidity, and some comments were even racially motivated.

See, aside from my family, there were only four other families that came through PRD while I was there that weren’t African American; and I’d seen 18 families come and go. Anyway, it’s not that I care because ‘prejudice’ is not a word that’s heard in my home. It never has been and never will be. Wyandanch’s population is 98% African American so my kids and I were in the minority. But that didn’t matter, I was just explaining about the racial comments Betty made. I didn’t even care about them, though; I just ignored her and went about my business. My kids often asked me why Betty was being so mean to me and I’d just respond that she had troubles in her life and she took them out on me.

Josie followed Betty’s lead and MG was always there to gossip about me when she was there on her shifts. Because I didn’t say anything to them they kept it up whenever they could. They never made comments in front of the case manager or the facility coordinator because they could’ve gotten into a lot of trouble, but my friends there told me I needed to stand up for myself against them and they’d stop. Why would I need to do that? I was setting a better example for my kids by not starting any shit and just ignoring the “children” that kept trying to torment me. I think it really bothered them that I didn’t get offended or let my feelings get hurt by their childish crap.

This went on for a couple of months, until Betty finally found a home of her own. Then a “miracle” happened. She was in her room packing to leave and a friend of mine from the shelter was in there chatting and wishing Betty luck. I was sitting in the lower common room watching TV and Betty’s room was down there. I got up to walk up to the kitchen and heard someone call my name but couldn’t tell who it was so I looked in the office but staff wasn’t in there. Nobody was around me so I just asked out loud who’d called me. It was Betty.

She called me into her room to and apologized for her behavior toward me. She said she’d been taking her frustrations out on me and felt bad about it. She gave me a hug and wished me luck. I did the same for her because I really did wish her well. I told her that I never took anything she’d said personally and that I had no hard feelings toward her. She left and we were on good terms. Funny thing, too, is that the very next day, after Betty had moved out, Josie was suddenly nice and friendly toward me again. It was almost like she was afraid not to be nice to me and I don’t know why she’d think that I’d treat her any differently than I had in the past.

So Betty was gone and things went back to being civil amongst all of us who still lived there. I was friends with three of the families and Josie and I got along fine again. Betty’s room was now empty and we all wondered who’d be put in there next. If we’d known beforehand all the crap that would take place with the arrival of the new tenant maybe we could have protested and had her placed somewhere else; instead, her actions almost got the entire house discharged. It was a mess.

Until next time…peace to all.

Not-so-nice Staff

Remember I said that it seemed as if nobody at PRD wanted to help the residents find homes? Well, FC was one of them. There was another staff member who was always bringing in computer-printed lists of local housing ads. She’d bring them in on her shift and would show them to those of us who were on the grounds at the time so we could pick any ads we wanted to call. Then she’d ask one of us to pass them along to the others. Since I was usually the one up latest she’d ask me. I had no problem sharing the lists but it was hard to catch up with other residents because we weren’t all around all the time.

So I’d hold on to the lists and try to pass them along to each resident I could as we’d cross paths but there was always one or two left out. So one day I decided to give the lists to FC and ask her to post them for the residents to see. I told her who gave them to me and about the pass-around request. FC looked at the lists, nodded at me, and closed the office door. The lists were never seen again. I wonder why. My guess was that FC didn’t like anyone offering us assistance in finding homes so she just discarded the lists.

The next time I saw the staff member who gave me the lists, I’ll call her MG, I told her what happened with the lists and she was annoyed. I don’t know if she ever said anything to FC about it but I do know she didn’t like FC any more than we residents did. Even staff complained about FC to us. MG, however, was not one who needed to be complaining about anyone. MG was extremely funny, helpful when she could be, and always brought in movies for the grown-ups to watch after the kids were off the floor; but she was the other staff member that some of us dreaded.

Yes, she was friendly and funny, but she also had a habit of being friends with some residents and gossiping about others. The ones who she was friends with got away with breaking the rules all the time; yet she was strict with the rest of us, but not all the time. She really blew hot and cold and it was hard to tell her mood on any given night.

I really tended to keep to myself and mind my own business at the shelter. If someone came to me to discuss something, whether about their case or something personal or even about another resident, I listened, offered advice if it was asked, and the conversation ended. Nothing anyone said to me ever left me. There were residents there, though, who would listen to others and then repeat what was said to whomever they felt needed to hear it, especially the person who was discussed. I hated that. MG, even though she was staff, would fall into the gossip-and-repeat category.

I’d sit in the common room watching TV – which she kept way too loud even though kids, mine included, were asleep in rooms just a few feet away – and I’d text on my phone to friends, just minding my own business. MG would sit there with a couple of other residents, one of whom had an issue with me a few months down the road, and they would carry on, laughing loudly, discussing other residents and staff. I never joined their conversations and didn’t really care what they were saying but I heard every word. They’d just sit there talking shit about whatever resident or staff member was in the spotlight that day, and MG would give her opinion on the topic. Staff wasn’t supposed to do that.

If residents were talking about others and staff was privy to the conversation they were supposed to keep it quiet, maybe write it in their notebook, and just do their job. They weren’t supposed to interject their opinions or get involved in the gossip. When those two residents moved out MG found other residents to be friends with and the same crap continued. They even got to the point where they were talking about me. How do I know? Because I was friends with a couple of residents who would sit with MG and watch whatever she was watching.

My friends didn’t get much involved in the conversations MG was having with whoever else was sitting there but they did tell me that I was the topic of conversation on more than one occasion and that MG was actually trying to impersonate me. I didn't really give a shit but it just showed me how two-faced she could be. She'd been friendly with me earlier in the night.I had started going to the upper common room on nights that MG was there because the TV downstairs was way too loud and I just couldn’t take all the concentrated noise from the TV and their talking. The decibel level drove me nuts.

So I’d sit in the upper common room and try to watch TV up there, which was difficult at times because of the noise downstairs. That’s how I’d see the rules being broken, though. The kitchen was upstairs and a couple of residents would make their way up there to have midnight snacks. MG never said a word to them. Had one of my friends or I gone in there she would have written us up for it.

It eventually got to the point that everything came to light in the eyes of staff that had no clue what was going on when MG was on duty and she was transferred to another house. But that’s definitely another story for another time because it actually involved an incident between a resident and me. Some of the gossiping residents I’ve mentioned also tried to start shit amongst the other residents by spreading lies and rumors. The first time they did it to me the shit really hit the fan because I don’t take shit from anyone. That’ll all come in time, though. For now I’ll let you rest from my long-winded post. Enjoy your day/evening.

Until next time…peace to all.

One Staff Member Down...More To Go

I mentioned the facility coordinator – FC – in my last post and I want to tell you a little about her. When I first got to PRD there was a facility coordinator there who was transferred shortly thereafter. The new one suddenly showed up and made her presence known by posting the rules all over the house again. All of us residents knew what the rules were but, as I’ve said before, not all of the rules were followed by everyone. And FC didn’t seem to mind, in the beginning.

She was pretty stern on the rules with most of us. I remember one day after school had ended and my kids were in day camp – DOL had told me that as long as I was fulfilling my obligations with them my kids qualified for day care or day camp and DOL would pay for it – I was sitting in the lower common room working on my housing logs. I was on the Internet on my phone, writing down in my notebook the numbers I was going to call. I had also put on the TV for a little background noise to drown out the conversation between FC and the case manager – CM – who were in the staff office just a few feet away from me.

I had randomly picked a channel to watch and it happened to be a game show followed by the news. I wasn’t even watching it so I hadn’t paid attention to what came on after the news. Suddenly FC entered the room to do whatever it was that she was doing and told me I wasn’t allowed to have a soap opera on the TV. She had to say it twice to get my attention because I was engrossed in what I was doing. I asked her why it couldn’t be on and she went over the TV rules again.

Stupid as it sounds there were specific types of shows we weren’t allowed to watch: crime shows, court shows, soap operas, talk shows, reality TV and videos on BET. The TV was supposed to be tuned to kid-friendly TV or the news at all times when children were in the grounds. On this particular day, though, there wasn’t anyone in the house but FC, CM and me. That was it. No other residents were in the house; all the kids were at camp or in day care and all the adults were running their errands.

When FC finished going over the rules again I, very blatantly, looked around the room as if searching for someone who wasn’t there. I told her there wasn’t anyone there but me so there wasn’t any reason for a soap opera, which I wasn’t even watching, not to be on the TV. I explained that I was only using the TV as background noise and hadn’t realized it was on but I still didn’t understand why I had to change the channel. She just smiled and said, “It’s the rules.” Seriously? So I changed the channel to Nickelodeon and asked her if she was happy. She just turned and walked away.

However, with a couple of the other residents she’d never say a word while they were sitting in the upper common room watching reality TV while their children were outside playing, which was also against the rules. Kids had to be with parents and vice versa, remember? And reality TV isn’t exactly considered kid friendly. But mine was not to question; I just did as I was told and kept my mouth shut.

I also kept quiet when FC allowed kids of other residents to enter the kitchen alone and make themselves cereal for breakfast or sandwiches for lunch yet told the rest of us that we had to be up in the kitchen with our kids. It was really difficult to explain to my kids why other kids were allowed to get food by themselves but they weren’t. I just told them that our family follows the rules.

FC’s problem was that she allowed herself to become friends with some of the residents. She’d be in the office chatting with a resident occasionally and, if the door was open, everyone could tell they weren’t discussing PRD or DSS business; it was all personal conversations on a friendly level. Now, discussing personal issues with staff wasn’t a problem for me because I’d discuss personal issues of my own with them at times. I’d discuss things when I needed advice or just wanted to vent. The types of personal conversations I’m talking about between FC and certain residents was talk against other residents, basically it was gossip.

That’s not the job of FC, to gossip about residents with other residents. I wasn’t quite sure what her job was other than to make sure the house was up to code and that we were all following the rules, not just in our house but in three other PRD houses. I said that the other day. I’ve already said that she following the rules was pick-and-choose with her and the house was definitely not up to code. Had the State ever walked in there, especially when we had the mouse problem, that house would have been shut down on the spot.

I don’t know how she did things in the other three houses, basically because none of us ever knew her to be anywhere but at our house, but I do know she didn’t do a whole helluva lot in our house other than to try to make some of us miserable. She spent most of her days hanging out in the office with CM, who I know didn’t want FC there all the time. CM told me on more than one occasion that she couldn’t get any of her work done with FC sitting in there chatting all day long. If FC wasn’t chatting she was surfing the Net, playing on Facebook, watching videos on YouTube, or checking her personal email. And she got paid for it because nobody above her ever knew what she was doing or not doing.

We residents knew, though, but didn’t say anything because there was nobody to tell. We had discussed it with other staff members on occasion but even they couldn’t tell anyone. The staff was afraid to complain to corporate for fear of reprimand and the residents were afraid for fear of discharge. Not that anyone could just be fired or discharged for no reason but we were all afraid FC would find anything she could to get rid of us.

She wasn’t a monster, or a raving lunatic, and there were times when she was quite polite and entertaining, but when it came to running the house she spent a lot of time harping on bullshit to some, letting others get away with anything they wanted, and sometimes stepping into our business when she had no right being there. Most of us dreaded seeing her walk through the door at 8:00 in the morning and did our best to stay out of her way. She wasn’t the only one we dreaded either; there was one more like her that I’ll tell you about tomorrow.

Until next time…peace to all.

Starting On The Staff

Not only did we have to live with five other families at times in the shelter, but there was staff there 24 hours a day. There were also security cameras and security officers who stopped by the house once a night to make sure all we well. The staff rotated on 8-hour shifts with the case manager having the 8:00a.m. to 4:00p.m. shift Monday through Friday.

When I first got to the shelter the case manager was a man, he told me what my obligations to Social Services were and that if I needed help with anything – resources for anything the kids and I needed – that I could ask him. He was gone a week later, just seemed to disappear. I found out months later that he’d been fired for making advances to one of the female residents. I don’t know if it’s true or not, it’s just what I was told. If it is true it makes me think that PRD has more to worry about than us parents watching each other kids when the staff is more of a threat than we are.

Anyway, they replaced him with a very nice older woman who was always cheerful but not very helpful. She’d make phone calls for us when we had trouble getting information from DSS or DOL, and she collected our housing logs. If we had an appointment or phone call with DSS or DOL she wrote it down along with the verbal exchanges and results and put them in our file. And twice a week we had to have a face-to-face meeting with her where she basically asked us how our search for housing was going and what our goals were. She wrote down the information on her forms and put those in our files. It seemed to me like she did a lot of talking and writing but no actual helping.

She was transferred a few months after the kids and I moved in; she had medical problems and didn’t drive so she needed to be closer to her home. Her replacement was a great lady, a little older than I am, and a lot like me. She wanted to see all of us succeed in getting out of the shelter and moving on with our lives. She was great to talk to if I had a problem or just wanted to chat, and she never failed to have some good advice when I needed it. She was one of a few of the staff members that I really liked.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t usually dislike anyone but there was some staff that caused problems for the residents because of the inconsistency in the way they all enforced the rules. Other than the case manager there was a facility coordinator whose job was to see that all the rules were being followed and that the house was kept up to code. She didn’t and it wasn’t but I’ll talk about that another time because I want to get to the rest of the staff.

I’ve already mentioned H who had more shifts than anyone. All the others were there for a shift or two during the week: 8:00-4:00 on Saturday or Sunday since that weekday shift was taken by the case manager; 4:00-midnight or midnight-8:00a.m. Those staff members, including H, although they had a specific title that I can’t remember, were glorified babysitters. They were there to sit at the house to watch us come and go and make sure we followed the rules.

There was a notebook that they had to write in every hour on the hour – who was still on the grounds and who wasn’t, who had an incident with the staff or another resident, who did and didn’t do their chore, whose kids threw a tantrum, etc. I kid you not. Our entire lives were written down in that notebook by every staff member only for it to be perused by every other staff member who came in on a later shift.

Those were the staff members who made it difficult for all for the residents, and not because they were trying to but because they all had a different outlook on the rules and how they needed to be enforced. Most of us followed the rules like we were supposed to but there were a few who didn’t and the rest of us just had to deal with it. It was just another aggravation that I had to deal with on a daily basis.

Some of the staff was really strict when it came to chores being done by a specific time and everyone being off the floor by curfew while others let people slide without doing their chores and allowing them to be in the common rooms after curfew. The kitchen closed at 10:00 but there were a few residents who ignored the rule and staff that allowed it. TVs were supposed to be off during school days but some of the residents were permitted to sit around all day watching it while the rest of us were out doing what DSS and DOL told us to do. Understand the aggravation?

It was hard enough to live in a house with a bunch of people I didn’t know and sometimes didn’t like, but it was even harder when those same people were permitted to get away with whatever they wanted. Having to explain to my kids why it was allowed didn’t help the situation any, it just made my life more difficult and I’m sure you’ll understand why when I explain certain instances in other posts. For now I’m getting some rest. My kids loved their first day of school and I enjoyed relaxing a bit. Now it’s off to bed to do it all again tomorrow.

Until next time…peace to all.