I didn’t really think I’d be rich either, except for a very small part of my brain that thought I’d be rich and famous when I grew up. Like, you know maybe I’d grow up to be a band.
I guess I thought I’d be middle class like my parents. My dad was a fireman and on his off days he had a house painting business. I don’t know what they do now but when I was a kid, firemen worked 24 hours a day. Work a day, off a day, work a day, off 3 days, so most of them worked another job as well. My mother was a secretary.
They did ok. We had a nice house, my parents each had their own car, we had a housecleaner and we went on vacation every year. That was with 5 kids.
Things haven’t worked out that way for me, I’m poor.
I haven’t always been poor. I was married once to a guy who had a lot of money. Even when we divorced, I wasn’t poor, I just had less money.
I am partly responsible for that, I made some bad choices. I studied dance from when I was 4 till I was a teenager. I was pretty good; maybe I could have been a star. At some point my parents made me choose between dance classes and boys. No brainer for me, I picked boys.
In high school, I made bad choices also. No math or business classes for me. I picked shop and a 3 hour a day vocational printing class (learning how to set type and run printing presses) because, well, these classes were full of boys.
To be fair to myself there weren’t really computers back then, no cell phones, no high tech. I didn’t know that was the future. I went to a college with a good business program and got a degree in child development. A bad choice, but I loved kids. I didn’t know from money.
Even though 30 years ago I was the director of Tennessee State University’s Evening Child Care Center and the highest paid director of any day care center in town, it still wasn’t enough to make a good living. Like my dad, I had a second job, during the day I cleaned houses.
As I began to learn the importance of money I realized I could make more money cleaning houses than working with kids. Yep. Maids get paid more than day care teachers. So does your yard guy.
I loved cleaning houses too, I still do. If you want your kitchen cleaned, just invite me to a party at your house. I’ll spend the time in your kitchen cleaning. My business cards used to say:
HOUSECLEANING
Tracy B Ann O.C.D.
Let my dysfunction be your good fortune.
Twenty-five years ago I rescued my first dog and got interested in dog training. I apprenticed with an Animal Behaviourist for a few years and then started training on my own. I was cleaning 2 houses a day and teaching 5 dog classes in a row on Saturdays. I also started boarding dogs. I was working a lot but I loved it AND I was making a lot of money. I made enough money to buy a house, or at least get a mortgage on a house.
Then I got cancer. I remember some of the first people I told were old clients of mine who had a new puppy and wanted to sign up for my next set of classes. I told them my classes were on hold because I was having surgery for my cancer in a few weeks.
I ended up having 2 surgeries and Lymphedema as a side effect. I couldn’t work for quite a while after treatment, my jobs are very physical. I used up my savings during this time and got behind on the mortgage. Bank of America jumped at the chance to try to foreclose.
Luckily some wonderful friends of mine came to my rescue. They hired lawyers and used their contacts with my congress critter, Jim Cooper, to get me in a home retention program. B of A restructured my mortgage by making it a 40 year loan. It lowered my payments so that I could afford them, but my house won’t be paid off until I’m 94.
I don’t know if I can still clean houses when I’m 64, let alone, 74, 84, and 94! As it is right now, I can only do 1 a day. After 5 hours of cleaning a house, which I do every Friday, I can barely lift my right arm.
I never went back to running dog training classes. I’m just too nervous now, even with Xanax. I used to be the only trainer in town who had play time in class. 30 minutes at the beginning or end of each class for the dogs to romp and play. Dogs. Adult dogs. Not cheerful little puppies that get along with everyone they meet.
Looking back, I can’t even believe I did that so calmly for so many years. Dogs arguing, snipping, snapping, baring their teeth at one another didn’t faze me. I used only positive methods also. No punishment, just a lot of interception and redirection.
Even boarding dogs can be nerve wracking. During my recovery, I had different people come every day to make sure I had food, was ok, and hang out with me for a bit. I did board some dogs during this time. One night while a friend was here a client dropped their dog off and I had to introduce 2 dogs to each other for the first time. Two female dogs who were each a little snarky.
My friend watched as I moved bodily in between the dogs, giving them a chance to get to know each other and signaling without saying anything or touching them that all was well, “be calm”. My friend, amazed, said “I never knew so much work was involved, I thought you just played with dogs all day”. Right.
Driving home the other day, I realized that I need help, life has just gotten too hard. I called a guy I had heard of who works at a senior community center “Fifty Forward” to see if I could get any help applying for food stamps. He set me up with a Care Advocate.
I met with her last Wednesday and she gave me the forms to fill out. I’ve been eligible for a few years now but when I looked at the TN DHS website on my own it always said (and still does) that you are disqualified if you own a car that is worth more than $1500.
I drive a 10 year old Toyota, but it’s worth more than $1500. She thought we could work around that. (I thought that if your car was only worth $1500 chances are it wouldn’t get you to a store so you could use your food stamps.) The Care Advocate gave me forms to fill out so I can get help with my utilities. I’ll take all the help I can get.
She also said she could help me get a GED. I was a bit stunned. I hung my head and as tears came into my eyes I said “I have a college degree”. A college degree, a middle class family and I’m poor. I just really never thought I’d grow up to be poor. It’s not what I hoped for, not a part of the dream I had for myself.
Monday Night Cancer Club is a Daily Kos group focused on dealing with cancer, primarily for cancer survivors and caregivers, though clinicians, researchers, and others with a special interest are also welcome. Volunteer diarists post Monday evenings between 7-8 PM ET on topics related to living with cancer, which is very broadly defined to include physical, spiritual, emotional and cognitive aspects. Mindful of the controversies endemic to cancer prevention and treatment, we ask that both diarists and commenters keep an open mind regarding strategies for surviving cancer, whether based in traditional, Eastern, Western, allopathic or other medical practices. This is a club no one wants to join, in truth, and compassion will help us make it through the challenge together.