a slice of humble pie

Sweet Land of liberties indeed. I have so many opportunities at my fingertips and yet so very many restrictions as well. As an AmeriCorps VISTA, I was under the impression that my paycheck would be counted similar to a Work Study. By that, I mean that it wouldn't count at all. As a single parent and a student, I was protected by a myriad of programs that allowed me a rose-colored view of poverty: my needs were always met and sometimes exceeded. So I assumed that my VISTA year would simply continue my protected status in a different part of the country. And to a certain extent, it is true. To an extent.
And I am making friends. I was able to transfer my Section 8 voucher to Meade County, just outside the Rapid City where I work. My needs would still be met: a roof over my head and some assistance with utilities. OK. But I have dogs and there seems to be a prevailing prejudice against dog-owners in the Black Hills. I was unable to secure a decent shelter, or decent to my standards. My standards include walls that meet the floors and do not allow sunshine in through the corners. My standards involve a central heating system that does not double as a home for the neighborhood cats. My standards do not involve excrement of any kind and when it's really cold, my new home does not smell so bad but once it warms up for an hour or two in the afternoon, the smell is quite uncomfortable. My maintenance guy did fix my heating vents that were not heating but did not replace the piping so whenever the heat comes on, fluffs and tufts of cat fur drift up from the forced air, and I wake up with a scratchy throat and stuffy nose. The prevailing aroma of excrement is slightly worse outside than inside. My neighbors seem friendly enough and have children and pets as well. I can make it work for a year since I won't have to pay for it myself. Yesterday, though, I received a letter from Meade County Housing stating that I will owe $170 per month on that modest shelter! While I was willing to reside there for free, I don't see how I could in good faith I could pay my own rent in addition to the $30 per pet monthly pet rent. AmeriCorps pays $858 for me per month. That income is in addition to Food Stamps and insurance for myself. And Max's childcare will be taken care of for the summer; he'll qualify for Medicaid. So my basic needs will still be met. Am I spoiled, perhaps, to feel that my housing should keep out the weather and strays? I chose VISTA in order to make a difference, to help others who live in poverty strive for something better. Perhaps, I thought, I must live in such humble surroundings because I need to make that trailer park a better place for people to live. I'm reminded of Orwell's Road to Wiggan Pier on so many levels. This is my Road to ...what? Sturgis? Road to Success? Road to Rapid City? Road to the West and a better life? Is this why I ran through the St. Louis Arch, to dwell in the squalor of those I hope to save in order to truly know what their needs are and address them fully to the best of my ability (and here I find my self quite motivated).

This is a small hole that was covered quite eloquently by a Pink Floyd poster when I moved in. Maintenance guy suggested I replace the poster.

This couch covers a dramatic dip in the floor and somewhat blocks out the sunshine fro the corner. It currently serves as Sassi's bed. I'm not a couch-up-against-the-wall kind of girl, so I confess I resent having to keep it in it's current location in order to keep the weather somewhat outside. Sassi enjoys the couch.

This hole is the only way to reach an electrical outlet from my bathroom. The maintenance guy came out over the weekend and installed a 6-plug extension cord and mounted it against the wall on the other side. I now have a thick cord stapled against this wall. He suggested I replace the entertainment center from the living room into this room as the previous occupants did; that way, I'll hide both the holes in my bedroom.

This is where I'm to clean myself. As you can see, the water does not contain itself by the edges of the tub and has spent time among the crevices created by previous tenants in this circa 1960 mobile home. So far it's only occupant is a large spider that has recently relocated and I'm still sorta afraid to relax in it. Below, we have another poor joining between wall and floor. Or maybe it's ceiling this time.  

This is an outlet that shoots fireworks when I plug something into it. 

This is another space where the floors and walls no longer function as originally intended. Or maybe the original intention was this exactly: to fall apart before the turn of the century?

And to be completely fair, once I put up half-curtains at the bottom of this window, the view will be amazing. When the sunshine spills out over these hills in the morning and evening, it's quite stunning. The fog is only slightly less impressive by it's density. Being 3000+ feet above sea level, sometimes the clouds visit and nothing is visible through the pea-soup thick of it.