Another Long Day and We Were On Our Way

I took my kids back to my friend’s house that afternoon so we could finalize our preparations for the storage company to pick up our belongings the next morning. I was angry, confused, and, most of all, frustrated because it seemed like nobody at Social Services knew their ass from their elbow when it came to answering questions or actually assisting anyone in need.

We got back to the house where we’d already packed up everything but incidentals. We’d left the kids’ clothing in their dressers to save on boxes so I told them each to pick out outfits to last them for ten days, including pajamas, undergarments, socks, etc. I packed up one little box of kitchen supplies – plastic cups, a few pieces of cutlery and the like, and I made sure we had all our bathroom items. I also told them to get their video games and a few DVDs since I didn’t know if we’d be allowed to watch them at the shelter or in the motel where we could possibly be placed.

We took linens off the beds and put them in a plastic bag and we decided that we’d take our blankets and pillows with us in the van so we’d have them if we needed them. We had one last dinner with our friends and settled in on our mattresses to watch a few movies before going to bed. We were getting up at 6:00 the next morning to get everything together and wait for the movers to arrive.

The morning of June 1^st we were up in time and had everything ready to go at 7:00 but the movers didn’t show. So we waited – for two hours. They finally arrived at 9:00 and started loading our stuff onto their truck. Everything was going great until they decided that the dressers had to be emptied so I had to scramble for plastic garbage bags to hold all the clothing. So be it. After about two-and-a-half hours they finished, had me sign the paperwork, and left. The kids and I loaded everything else into the van, including our cats and their supplies, said goodbye to my friend and headed back to Social Services.

I stopped on the way to get the kids some lunch at McD’s because I didn’t know how long we’d be waiting, and then we raced to get there because I wasn’t sure what time the doors were closing that day. Social Services has different hours on different days of the weeks and I didn’t want to get stuck with no place to go that night. We arrived on time, however, and I got on line to “report in” again and we took seats in the waiting area – again.

The female from the previous day called me to the back to go over some paperwork that hadn’t been done the day before and I had a few more questions for her since the male caseworker wasn’t able to answer them for me. I was really upset about having to have an open cash assistance case and I asked her why it was necessary when I was already getting child support. All she could say was that it was policy for anyone going into a shelter. That made me angry and I told her so. I explained that I was still paying on my van and with them cutting my income in half the kids and I wouldn’t have anything to live on after I made a van payment and paid for my insurance.

I told her that Social Services was supposed to be there to help people get on their feet but they were digging me further into the system. She wanted to know how they were doing that to me. I told her that if I couldn’t make my van payment I’d lose my van. I’d been paying on the van for four years at that point to try to rebuild my credit after my ex destroyed it. I told her they were putting me at risk to further damage my credit, not to mention possibly lose my means of transportation. You know what she told me? She told me that my van payment wasn’t their problem, that they had rules to follow, and then she gave me bus tokens to get to and from my next Social Services appointment which would probably be in the same town as the shelter rather than way out in Riverhead.

She gave me bus tokens. She actually handed me bus tokens. It was serious fucking confirmation to me that the people who work for Social Services don’t give a rat’s ass about what happens to the people who come to them for assistance. It also made me realize that she already knew what shelter we’d been placed in or she couldn’t have scheduled my next appointment already. That’s when a guy walked in and told me we were still being placed at Project Redirect in Wyandanch and he asked me if I had transportation to get there. Why? Was he going to offer me bus tokens to get there if I didn’t? Actually he would have called a cab for us, and they would have paid for it. Imagine that.

It didn’t matter. I had my van, loaded to the gills with our belongings and our cats. He handed me slip of paper with the address and a computer printout with MapQuest directions on it. I kid you not. He wished us luck and was gone as quickly as he’d appeared. No mention of what to do when we got there, or who I was supposed to speak with upon arrival; just directions, an address and a phone number in case we got lost. That was it. The female had finished with her crap and I had the information I needed, so we loaded into the van and were on our way to a homeless shelter in Wyandanch, NY. It was to be the first day of something seriously new and unfamiliar and I was scared shitless.

Until next time…peace to all.