At first I was devastated by the introductory weeks of my new job. I felt as if I had landed in Oz again and this time there was no tin man, scarecrow or lion to help me. There were however, these amazing students who were not in the business of saving anyone. Someone should have been in business of saving them. As with all travelers of long and winding roads, if I may borrow from the Beatles, some of us make may have a bumpy ride but we find our way. Others get caught on the roundabout.

I usually teach adults who come to class of their own free will. However, I now work in a program that sponsors public assistance participants. If the atmosphere of the office is one of disdain for these folks, that’s putting it mildly. There is an unseen, unknown hierarchy that only the veterans know about and understand. I’m still unclear. Depending on one’s position, you refer to the public assistance participant workers as “clients”. I have even heard some folks refer to them as “rug rats”. I am a teacher. Everyone who walks into the classroom with an attitude of I are ready to learn is always referred to as a student.

The students have the option to use two of their workdays for a variety of training options. They vary from computer classes in, nursing assistant, food service, a driver’s license or GED classes. Participants have 6 months to complete the program, which includes resume writing, job search, and by the grace of those with hiring power, a full-time job.

A majority of my students are women of color. With the exception of one or two they all have children and some women have grandchildren. A number of women have relationships with husbands or boyfriends who are imprisoned. I have spent three months getting to know them.

As in any classes that I have ever conducted, I always manage to find the students who are really there to learn. They are the one’s who stand out like stars over New York City. Only the best, the brightest and most determined twinkle. I have a total of about 6 stars out of the 17 who started with me in August. Another 6 of a previous instructors class that got passed on to me, completed the exam in September. It was wonderful to share in their success. Some people in the office acted so surprised. It was as if they had never seen people fulfill a dream.

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I know that many people believe what is said about people living on public assistance. The old myths and misconceptions of people living on welfare and driving Cadillac’s are still with us. Only expensive sneakers have replaced the Cadillac’s. I am a witness that really poor folks are just working folks. They are working for welfare checks.

Imagine working for $8.00 dollars an hour with two children, one school age and the other in daycare. Every day you drop them off and go to your job picking up garbage New Yorkers cast off. Imagine your school age child suddenly having behavioral issues in school, because his teacher, with whom he was so connected, went on maternity leave in October. The school calls you at work, and request you come pick up your child. You cannot leave. You need to fulfill your hours or lose pay. Your boss threatens to fire you. He reminds you that this is the third week in a row you had to leave early. He or she says this to you in a way that borders harassment. Imagine that 3 absences from work means not only dismissal from the program, but cancellation of your rent subsidy and food stamps. How would you cope? What would you do?

It has been difficult to teach in this capacity. The goal of the organization is job placement. Yet I hear lots of students complaining about job choices. I hear that job searches are sometimes limited to places like White Castles. I suppose White Castles is an okay place to work if you are fifteen and living at home with able bodied folks to take care of your basic needs. It is not a job for a single mom with three kids. A job like that can’t possibly qualify one as employed. A job like that can’t possibly mean you have made it.

I feel complicit in a system that doesn’t work. In my opinion the program sets the participants up for failure.
I wonder about the past success levels of such a program. I wonder which is more likely to lead one out of poverty. If many of us had a choice between work and education, which would we choose? If you have choices you are already fortunate. I am convinced that it is the lack of choices that separates us.