Picturing Poverty
Essays out of Appalachia
By: B. L. Dotson-Lewis (author of Sago Mine Disaster, Featured Story) Appalachian Coalfield Stories – Publication date Jan. 19, 2007 available on amazon.com, West Virginia Book Company, Charleston, WV and buybooksontheweb.com)
PO Box 313
Summersville, West Virginia 26651
A Christmas Story
Tuesday evening, December 19, 2006
Summersville, West Virginia
This evening after work, after coming home and doing some chores outside I ran out to the Dollar Store to pick up extra cleaning and laundry supplies for the holidays. You can get good buys at these chain stores. It was about dark. I went to the right hand side of the store after I walked in. It was the natural thing to do, veer to the right which was their Christmas section. I thought I would look around and see what they had.
Two women and a little boy were walking close by where I was browsing around all the little knick knacks. I allowed myself to look but had made an earlier commitment to myself not to buy anything that could be categorized as junk in a few days that I would have to get rid of, so I was just looking.
It was apparent the two women and little boy were doing their major Christmas shopping. It was hard, if not impossible not to know. The younger woman would walk ahead of her mom and screech, “Mommy, Mommy come over here and look what I have found.” The older woman slowly pushed the buggy in the direction of the screech and say, “We can’t get that. We can’t get that.” One time the younger woman said, “I know I’m just looking but I love camouflage.” They were looking at some warm-ups with a price tag of $10.00 for both pieces.
The little boy who looked to be about 7 or 8 with red hair was so excited with everything he saw. His mother, the younger woman walked with a heavy limp and both women had speech impediments. She told her son to pick the gifts he would be giving from the $1.00 and $2.00 shelf, nothing more. He found all kinds of little glass or plastic objects for his gift buying. He would pick up a little glass figurine and yell for his Mommy to come and see what he had found for Brenda or Debbie’s bathroom – a tiny blue dolphin or a carved piece of soap. He only wanted to buy for one but his Mother told him he could not leave the other one out, so he would have to get a gift for both.
One time he picked up a larger prize he wanted for someone but his Mom told him to put it back. It was not in their price range. I didn’t see one thing on the shelf over $5.00. Then, she found a stack of glass women’s hi-heel shoes which were pink, black, blue and purple with feathers glued on them – knick knacks. She yelled for her mom to come and see what she had found. She told her mom, “I’ve always loved these shoes.” She ran her hand over the shoe and held it up for her mom to get a closer look. After her mother looked, she slowly placed the glass slipper back in its place on the shelf. Her mother told her, “We can’t get that. We can’t get that.”
The little boy jumped up, down like a wound up top each time he picked up an item. One time he let out an especially loud yell in a high-pitched tone. He held the item behind his back with both hands and yelled, “Mommy, Mommy don’t look behind my back as he twirled around in excitement. Don’t look Mommy, I’m hiding it from you. It is your Christmas present.” It was the glass shoe she had looked at longingly earlier. The cost $2.99.
The little boy’s mother told her to help find Daddy’s present. It could not be more than $5.00. I met them a few times in the aisles. They were looking at everything. Somehow we both ended up in the toy aisle at the same time. The boy’s mother told him to pick out his Christmas present. It could not be more than $5.00. He had to make a choice between a little box with 2 Power Ranger figures or a box with a Nascar. He looked at both for a long time. He turned each box over and over. You could tell it was a hard decision. He chose the little Power Rangers.
I can’t help but think about the hard times these people must be going through. It was so evident. I don’t think the little boy will have many surprises waiting for him on Christmas morning.
I wish things were more equal for all families, especially kids.
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Another Christmas Story
Thursday, December 28, 2006 - midnight
Summersville, West Virginia
Our Assistant Superintendent told me this story today at work.
One of our teacher’s aides at Dixie Elementary was performing her regular duties prior to the Christmas break which consisted of assisting students who need additional help with their school work. Because of the smallness of the school with a total enrollment of around 100 students and her assigned duties, Brenda spends a great deal of time, one-on-one, with a small number of students. On this particular day, near our Christmas break, she asked one little girl what she wanted for Christmas. It was what all the students were talking about at school.
You see Dixie Elementary is in a poverty-stricken area in Nicholas County bordering on the county lines of Clay and Fayette Counties. Dixie Elementary is off the beaten path making it difficult to get and keep teachers, aides, a principal, custodian and cook at the school because of the long drive over hairpin curves behind or in front of coal trucks which seems to extend over the narrow marked traffic lanes. The trucks travel at break-neck speeds since pay is based on haulage.
Dixie is a school with the majority of the students getting free lunch. All the way from Poe down Route 39 through Enon, Zela, Swiss and Belva Communities is terrible poverty. Two Nicholas County Elementary Schools are on or just off this crooked route where major coal operators extract our rich mineral out of these hills.
Brenda asked this 9 year old girl she was working with what she wanted for Christmas. Her reply was, “I want a blanket for Christmas.” It turns out the little girl sleeps on the couch every night with her coat over her for cover. Her sister sleeps at the other end of the couch with the same arrangement- her coat over her for cover.
Instead of toys, video games or a skateboard to play with, this 9 year old just wanted a blanket for Christmas to keep her warm at night while she slept on her end of the couch.
Brenda took this request to her church. The church members donated enough money to buy a blanket for every student at Dixie Elementary, approximately 100 students.
Brenda took the donation and went to Big Lots Store to see about getting the best deal on 100 or so blankets. I’m not straight on this, if it were when she was loading the blankets or just purchasing the unusually large number of blankets, the manager, a very nice man, asked Brenda, “Why all the blankets?” When she told him a little girl just wanted a blanket for Christmas, he said, “In that case you can have all those blankets for half price.”
Brenda was then able to buy blankets for all the students at Zela Elementary as well. Zela Elementary School lies on the same economic plane as Dixie, the plane of poverty. So, students at two elementary schools got blankets for Christmas.
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Homeless
Tuesday, February 6, 2007 – 10:00 P.M.
I was talking with a couple of our mechanics today while on my lunch break. They stopped by my office where I work to talk a little. We all work in the public education sector in rural West Virginia. They were checking to see if a new mechanic had been hired during the previous night’s board meeting. Our topic of discussion turned to jobs in West Virginia and the state of our economy. We said that we were thankful for the jobs that we have. We felt lucky to have jobs which provided insurance and retirement benefits.
I said, “Even though we have jobs, poverty is all around us here in these rich coalfields, especially noticeable in the children who are asking for a warm blanket for Christmas instead of a toy.” The mechanics agreed. Then, one of them told me the following story:
He said, “An elderly gentleman tried to check himself into the Richwood Nursing Home last week. He showed up at their door and said, “I want to be admitted.”
The staff told him that was not how things were done at the nursing home. They said, “You must meet certain criteria – not just show up and expect to be admitted.”
He said, “Well, you don’t understand. I have no place to go. I have been evicted from my home. I am 4 months behind on rent. I am behind on all my utilities. If I don’t get admitted into your facility, I will be sleeping in a cardboard box down on the street out in the cold. If you don’t take me in, I have no place to go.”
The staff sent him or took him, I don’t know which, over to the Richwood Area Medical Center Emergency room to have him checked out to see if they could find something wrong with him, so they could give him a home.
