KB Homelessness

I never thought I would end up homeless.

I graduated high school with top honours and got a college scholarship. I had a well-paying job, got married and started a family. I had what some might call a perfect life.

It wasn’t.

I worked an office job at a bank. It wasn’t the most exciting job I could hope for, but I enjoyed it. It paid well. What I didn’t know was that the bank was committing mass fraud. Four years after I started working there, the bank got found out and shut down, and my job was gone. To make matters worse, other banks didn’t trust anyone who worked at mine, because we were rumoured to all have been in on the fraud. No one would hire me.

At the same time,  my relationship with my husband was changing. We got into arguments more often. He told me it was my fault I didn’t have a job.  My youngest child came up to me and asked what “incompetent” meant.  She’d heard my husband call me that over the phone.  When I tried to talk to him that evening, he ignored me and left the house.  He came home two weeks later smelling of beer and cigarette smoke, and told me he was leaving.  Just like that, I was living out of only my savings account.

Life took a downward spiral: over the next few years I was barely able to pay the bills, started shopping at food banks, and later on very nearly starved myself in an attempt to feed my kids, who were going to school with no lunch in their backpacks.  I had to sell the house, but I couldn’t find a new one cheap enough to be able to pay for.  My kids went into foster care, and I packed up our hatchback with some extra clothes, a toothbrush, and all the non-perishables in my house.  It wasn’t a good situation, but it would keep my kids alive, and that was all I wanted.

I don’t care that I can barely pay the parking meter (3 months ago, my car broke down. I couldn’t afford to get it fixed, so I pushed it to the nearest spot I could park.  It was paid parking, but I didn’t want to lose the car, so I keep it there.)  I don’t care that I haven’t showered in weeks.  I’m doing this so I can see my kids again.  I haven’t talked to them face-to-face since the day the social services worker picked them up and drove them to their foster home.  I haven’t written a letter since my car broke down because now I can’t afford postage.  But I keep going.  I will do anything to see them again. I keep pushing.  

The government could help by erasing stigma, if it was able to.  One of the reasons I don’t have a job is because people think it’s my fault I’m jobless.  They won’t listen to the full story, not to mention that I’m considered untrustworthy because of the fraud.  An anti-stigma campaign would be nice, but it wouldn’t stop the ignorance completely.  Still, give it a try.

Another thing that you could do is pay those who’ve recently gotten a divorce )to pay for things like counselling, and to get you back on your feet when your partner’s paycheque is lost). I know it would help me a lot to have some extra money on hand.

Thank-you for your consideration.

K. Bateman