Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Thursday, March 30, 2006

same ol' same ol'

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

Whether or not I get to experience this potential transformation, I need to earn some money. Moving expenses would be astronomical. Even if it doesn't happen, I need to earn money. I have to get my teeth fixed, etc.

So, I'm applying for part time work.

I found NMPIRG (New Mex. Public Interest Research Group). They have a canvassing thing. You have to sign up $95 in memberships (which go for $25 each) per day to get $35. Over that, you get commission. Under that, they let you go.

Now, canvassing is hard work. I was told I'd be working in set locations: health food stores, colleges, etc. Standing all day is a hardship, but I was willing, as long as it was only 3 days a week, full time (that's what they mean by part time). They pick you up in a van and drop you off in the locations they've decided. They pick you up at the end of the day.

So, I applied.

He gives me this rap about how they're going to start door-to-door soliciting, beginning in May. What? Walking around in the heat, knocking on people's doors? Working late, when people get home from work and no busses are running? I looked worried.

I asked if they'd simultaneously continue what they call, "campus" canvassing. No. That will end in May. oh, gawd.

So, he says that, even in campus canvassing, "you're entitled to a ten minute break per five-hour shift, but we don't recommend you take it. You can take your break before or after work. There's no sitting down. You have to meet your quota, or you'll be fired."

I said, "so, once again, no reasonable accomodation for disabled people? I might as well be selling Avon."

I walked out.

He'd lied to me, on the phone. If I'd known it was door-to-door (and I'd specifically asked), I never would have taken the bus to their offices. It would kill me, walking the streets for 5-8 hours per day, and then having to walk from the bus stop a mile away to get home.

A few weeks ago, I applied to a local radio station. They needed someone in their news dept. I'm definately qualified. But my broken teeth affect how I sound on mic. I assured them I know how to position a mic, to minimize the lisp. They seemed interested. But, as I was leaving the interview, one of them stopped me in the lobby. There, in front of others, she palmed a $20 into my hand and insisted I take it for a dental appt. I tried to refuse it, but she insisted. I was mortified!

I didn't go there to panhandle; I went there to support myself!

I've never heard a word from them since.

Well, I finally have an appt today for a general physical at the medical clinic. So, I'd better start getting ready.

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