One of my greatest fears has always been growing old poor and alone. I’m not sure why. But I’ve talked to other women who share this fear of poverty and homelessness even when it seems unlikely.
... I once fell completely in love with someone when he told me, “I’d like to grow old with you.”
Perhaps my fear began with a statistic. I once heard that the majority of women living on the street got there due to divorce, domestic violence, or mental illness.
I am fairly certain that I’m not mentally ill, but I have two divorces under my belt, as well as experience—both personally and professionally—dealing with family violence.
After my second marriage, I lost everything that constituted a safety net: a chance to pay for my son’s college or afford to retire before age 99. I was lucky enough to have accrued equity through a hard-fought purchase of a small house, but I took it all out to go into what was to be our family home.
On different occasions, I treated my business and home as one big kibbutz, but I discovered that not everyone here lives by: “give what you can, and take what you need.”
In our intended family home—the “big house”—I poured my heart and remaining equity into remodeling. I learned what it was like to feel enfranchised enough to have a completely new kitchen; a master bedroom with Jacuzzi bathroom; a deck big enough to look down onto a tropical, almost foreign-looking landscape—the hills of Glassell Park; soothing green-tea colors; and a built-in vanity-type desk.
We dragged the kids to various tile stores. The first real purchase I made—long before the remodel started—was the mosaic from Mexico with the village scene. I imagined cooking and looking up at this folkloric view of villagers, countryside, a little church, and children playing—much like those in my little blended household, which of course would have a mezuzah on the door.
Most of the time that I look back, I think, “Why did we need all that?”
Of course, that is with the knowledge of all that was lost.
California, with all its resources, ranks almost rock-bottom in terms of sheltering our children—at 46 out of the 50—in the study, “America’s Youngest Outcasts, 2010” (State Report on Child Homelessness put out by National Center on Family Homelessness).
It also cites key statistics on homeless mothers: Over 92 percent of homeless mothers have experienced severe physical and/or sexual abuse during their lifetime. And 63 percent of them report that the abuse was perpetrated by an intimate partner.
The same 2010 study reports that more than 1.6 million children are homeless in America: One in 45 children (National Center for Homeless Education 2011). Also, 79.6 percent of homeless adult women are in a family, compared to just 20.4 percent of homeless adult men (Annual Homeless Assessment Report to Congress 2007).
Are There Homeless People In South Pas?
Recently I began to wonder: “Where are the homeless in South Pasadena?” I haven’t seen people sleeping in front of the library or , or asking for money by the freeway—as we do in other local communities.
Are there kids living in cars who somehow make it to school, but who have no place to sleep well or to shower? No real residence where they can study? Have they been exported to other cities?
In Long Beach, I recently learned that homeless are sent away during the Annual Grand Prix to keep the city tidy and free of “clutter” for visitors (“Homeless Long Beach – Out of Site, Out of Mind” by Living Long Beach).
I never take my home for granted. I recently lamented on Facebook that I missed having new kitchen cabinets. I was staring with bitterness at my grimy old apartment-grade metal drawers, feeling that I’d never get to remodel a kitchen. As soon as I wrote it on my wall, I realized how wrong it was. I’m lucky to have drawers to open, a refrigerator I can still fill, and people I can call upon to fill it, should I fall short. I am not homeless.
We live in a complex where some neighbors would feed and clothe us, and often we do that for each other when we have meals we can’t finish, food we won’t get to, and clothes that no longer fit.
While pondering the questions, “Where are the homeless in South Pas?” and “Why do some of us retain that irrational fear of becoming homeless?” I realized how unlikely that possibility is for my son and me.
The Power of Family
I have discovered the power of family pulling together for whatever crisis or simcha arises—weddings, funerals, heartbreak, and ailing parents. We’ve supported each other through life transitions: pregnancy loss, childbirth, Bar/Bat Mitzvahs, home purchase, and death.
I recently called a “family meeting”—a “gentle intervention”—to address my son’s challenges in school, and I was reminded of how much my family has stuck by me. My brother, sister, my brother-in-law (who was my camp counselor at 16 and later met my sister on kibbutz), Gabe’s dad, and Gabe’s dad’s girlfriend were all present. They proposed a calendar on which the adults would sign up for times to be with my son while he studied.
Speaking of family, my older sister, Jane, reminded me, "It seems a good time to ponder those of us with and those of us without,” referring to Passover.
We tell the story of wandering 40 years through the desert. We once were slaves, and now we’re free, but so many in the world aren’t. So many are wandering without shelter or “manna from heaven” or basic healthcare or human rights. An obvious connection to the theme of this column, Jane commented: “Those of us with, must do whatever we can to help those without. It is (or should be) a moral imperative.”
To find out more about the “Affordable Housing Crisis in Pasadena” and what we can do, please come to the upcoming event at 7 p.m. Wednesday, April 18 in the Pasadena Jewish Temple & Center’s Galpert Sanctuary, 1434 North Altadena Drive, Pasadena.
An expert panel will examine the issues and controversies surrounding affordable housing and how it relates to homelessness. The discussion is open to the public, and a reception will follow. The event is co-sponsored by the Pasadena Jewish Temple & Center Tikkun Olam (Hebrew for “repairing the world”) Committee and Greater Pasadena Jews for Justice.
Local resources for homeless in the South Pasadena area include: . Check out the attached video to see Holy Family Giving Bank sharing food for the holidays.
Those in need can also call 211 for local resources—food, shelter, etc.