Maid

Maid

Adult nonfiction
"My reflection in the mirror showed a rail-thin figure, wearing
a kid-sized tee shirt and tight-fitting jeans that I'd roll up at the
bottom to hide that they were too short. In the mirror, there was
that woman--overworked but without any money to show for it, someone
who couldn't afford a fucking burger..."
Stephanie Land, in her late twenties, was planning to go to the
University of Montana in Missoula. A summer romance aborted her
plans. Her baby daddy was not pleased with impending fatherhood.
Life became a desperate struggle to keep herself and her daughter,
Mia, fed and housed. In fact Mia took her first steps in a homeless
shelter.
The only job Land was able to get was cleaning houses for an
agency. The work was brutal and demanding and often really gross.
There was the gas consuming commute between houses. And there was the
fear that just one emergency or misstep could get her fired and, with
Mia, back in the homeless shelter.
Even patching together wages and government help was never
enough. For awhile home was a tiny studio where the black mold that
kept coming back kept mother and child constantly ill. At one point
Mia had to have an operation. Later on a doctor told Land she had to
move. When she protested that she couldn't afford to, he informed her
she had to do better.
Then there was the prejudice Land experienced on a regular
basis. Even though she did the kind of toil most of us would be
unwilling to do, Land constantly ran into people who had swallowed the
Welfare queen myth hook, line, and sinker. One day, for example, a
client complained about a Mexican family she saw at a grocery store
who paid with food stamps even though their children were "dressed to
the nines."
"...Anyone who used food stamps didn't work hard enough or made
bad decisions to put them in that lower-class place. It was like
people thought it was on purpose and that we cheated the system,
stealing the money they paid toward taxes to rob the government of
funds. More than ever, it seemed, taxpayers--including my client--
thought their money subsidized food for lazy poor people."
In her forward Barbara Ehrenreich, author of Nickel and Dimed,
warns prospective readers: "The price of admission requires that you
abandon any stereotypes of domestic workers, single parents, and media-
derived images of poverty you may be harboring. Stephanie is hard-
working and "articulate," to use the condescending praise word
bestowed by elites on unexpectedly intelligent people who lack higher
education. Maid is about her journey as a mother, trying to provide a
safe life and home for her daughter Mia while surviving on pieced-
together bits of public assistance and the pathetically low income she
earned as a maid."
Sadly, this is a price that the people most in need of reading
the book will be unwilling to pay.
But you aren't one of them. Right?
On a purrrsonal note, Joey's medicine continues to help. His appetite
remains good. The cat treats the kids provide give him needed
calories and great enjoyment. Their visits also make him so happy.
Every moment if catly contentment is pure joy for me. Every good day
is a victory.
A great big shout out goes out to the best little cat in the world and
my kids who grew up with him and, I believe, are kinder adults for
having grown up with a loving, playful, but fragile special needs cat.
jules hathaway


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