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2025 Goal: To only write about poverty and not continue to live in it.
Let’s talk about why you should leave poor people the fuck alone.
‘Tis me. I’m poor people.
Here are three harmful experiences I’ve had while minding my damn business:
In 2021 I was hired as a freelance consultant and was paid part of my fee in stock shares. Last year a former co-worker reached out and said the stocks could be cashed out in a few months ($15,000) and he’d handle the transaction. I was shocked. First because of the amount and then because I had forgotten about them. That was about to be my “relocate to Mexico” money. I just knew my entire life was about to change.
As the months passed, his email updates consisted of bullshit excuses about why it was delayed. That life changing $15k crossed my mind every single day. After six months I decided to cash it out myself. Multiple brokers told me they were actually worth $3,000 and were garbage penny stocks that no one wanted to work with.
I know he meant well but I really wish he’d waited until he was sure.
Take the loss. Onwards and upwards…
I once posted on LinkedIn that I crowdfund for survival because my monthly basic expenses exceed my income by $1500. A connection reached out in January and said “In April, I want to help alleviate the deep pressure on you. I’m telling you ahead of time so you have something to work toward and something to raise your hope. This isn’t an empty promise.”
This isn’t an empty promise.
Back then I worked 10 hour days delivering food for Uber Eats. Each morning I’d say to myself “In a few months you’ll have space to breathe, just hold on.” My exhausted (but hopeful) self counted the days. I started to feel physical relief in my body as April approached. The month came and went - I hadn’t heard from her. When I reached out to gently check in she said “something came up.” That’s fair, life can do the most. But did it come up yesterday? You couldn’t give me a heads up?
Life happens. Keep it movin’…
A few days later I received a delivery from my Amazon wishlist. It was a sofa from her with a note that said “doing what I can.” Know what I would have preferred? Clear communication. Nah, you can’t buy your way out of accountability. Know what I did with the sofa? Sold it on Craigslist and purchased my own that I could sit on without sucking my teeth in disgust at her lack of consideration.
3. Later that year, I posted another need on Linkedin.
This time, it was emotional - not financial.
I need someone to hold me.
I need someone to make me soup.
I need someone to sit on the sofa while we read.
I need someone to let me cry without trying to fix it.
I need someone to listen to my hurt without saying a word.
Why yes, I do overshare on that platform…
A connection DM’d and said “I can do that.” I cried as I read those four words. We talked openly about any fears or hesitations - this was a risk on both sides. Her fear was that she would hurt me. She flew out the next day. We had a tender visit (with soup we made!) and before her flight that evening she said “I can come back next weekend.” And she did. In fact, she flew out every weekend for months. And no, it wasn’t romantic - however, I did catch feelings. I’d never been that deeply seen or heard in my entire life. But she didn’t feel the same way. We talked honestly and our friendship stayed in tact.
At her next visit she said “I know Mexico is the goal. But what if I pay for an apartment in my complex? I have an extra car you can use. All you have to do is focus on writing and resting - what do you think?”
We’d…be neighbors? We could…have Sunday dinners? I’d have a real life…friend?
Oh. My heart.
My entire life I’d ached for a person who wanted me around.
It felt too good to be true - because it was.
I drove down to visit and it went well. I said yes.
I gave her my SS# for the application and headed home to pack up my life. The next day I received a short text saying I was a risk to her job (say what?) but we’re ok (smily face.) I never heard from her again.
ROBIN, YOU ARE AN IDIOT.
Baby where is the discernment? The ancestors are concerned.
Which brings me to my recent experience.
In July a long time Substack subscriber reached out with an offer. He was applying for a grant to create a program that would serve individuals experiencing poverty. If selected, he’d hire me as a consultant for 10 hours/month at $100/hour to share feedback on his idea.
A $1000 every month to teach about poverty? I can do that.
But the details were sketch and the updates were minimal.
Last month I received dates for a required training - let’s get to work!
Then he invites me to be an apprentice in his program - Ok, I guess.
Then he says he’ll be my coach and, wait…my coach?
He’s a decent dude with business savvy. My own skills suck - who knows, maybe I’ll learn a few tips to help me escape my own Cycle of Suck.™
But what about the consult job, man?
At our Wednesday session I directly asked.
“The program I’m in, is this the one you hired me to consult on?”
His eyes darted back and forth as he searched for an answer. “Yes” he said slowly.
“So, I’m not a consultant - I’m a client? In your poverty program?”
He hesitated. “This sounds bad but, you’re my project. Don’t worry, I’ll still pay you.”
I’m your project? I’M YOUR PROJECT?
And the worst part was “I’ll still pay you.”
Lemme stop you right there - this isn’t about the money.
I sent an email to end our communication, blocked him and refunded his yearly Substack payment because sir, who in the hell do you think I am?
But what hurt even more was the realization that he didn’t see me as a person.
People aren’t projects.
Had he been above board with his intention (and not called me a project) I would have been open to the support.
The common theme in these experiences is that everyone involved could have left me the fuck alone.
With that said, I sincerely believe they had good intentions.
(Maybe not the apartment lady, that shit was diabolical.)
But the rest of them are kind hearted humans.
And yet, that doesn’t minimize the pain I felt. Impact over intent.
Your good intentions can still be harmful as hell.
What did you say, what harm did they cause?
They gave false hope to a person already on the edge of hopelessness.
And they hurt my little feelings.
It breaks me when I think about their lack of consideration and care.
For anyone curious, yes - they were. (And wealthy)
And it’s a safe bet that none of them recognized the power dynamics involved…
Here are a few tips to minimize harm when you feel called to help:
Can you for real show up or are you just trying to look/feel good? Check in.
Thought you could but now you can’t? Renegotiate.
You can but don’t want to anymore? Communicate.
This ain’t gotta be hard.
Poor people have been let down, told nope and disappointed our entire lives - we can handle it.
Respect our humanity, please tell us the truth.
The way that $1000 a month would have made such a difference…
To close this out, since I believe in wealth redistribution (and paying this Atlanta rent) I welcome contributions of Community Care. And my bank account is absolutely overdrawn hundreds of dollars.
Why do I even exist?
Venmo: @divinerobin
CashApp: $divinerobin
PayPal: practicecommunitycare@gmail.com
Take care of each other out there, we’re all we’ve got.
#PovertySucks
You deserve SO much better. Infinitely better! And I resonate with your call to check in, renegotiate, and communicate because these are the same things that I want as a disabled person when I ask for help. But people would rather assume I’m asking for something burdensome and indefinite and avoid me. It’s infuriating. Whether we’re seen as projects or problems, it’s dehumanizing. I think it’s an honor to be in community with you. Anyone who thinks otherwise, well, I’m not typing what I think about that. 💞
Glad to be able to continue as a subscriber. I felt the one especially about the ghosting after the commitment to help. Mine came from a (now former) good friend.
Why is it so hard to understand that a betrayal of trust and a whimsical communication style hits harder than any disappointment? Would they behave this way in a business setting? Nope. If you can't do something, let me know.