This may be the most difficult blog or piece of writing I’ve ever done, and I’ve been working on it for a very long time. Each time I began to write it, I stop because it is such a touchy subject for me, and the emotions are overwhelming.
But, as always, I want to share my story.
Recently, I volunteered with some of my lovely Alpha Phi sisters at the Hospitality House in Boone. For readers that don’t know, the Hospitality House essentially aids homeless locals in finding structure and stability in their lives after crisis, eviction, mental illness, or drug addiction.
During our visit, I was taken back to a time when I wasn’t too far from the exact situation that some of the people living in the Hospitality House are in.
In 2008, the United States faced a major economy crash. It impacted everyone, and some more than others.
That was the year that my family and I were evicted from our home.
Luckily, we moved in to my grandmother’s house, but had we not had the support system of friends and family, I too, would’ve been homeless.
A home is your comfort zone. Your sense of security. Your sense of being. One week everything was normal, and the next week, everything came crashing down on us. My parents know that I obsessively worry about everything, therefore they’ve always been good at hiding things from my brother and I, to prevent stresses that aren’t necessary for children. This was one situation they just couldn’t hide from us.
I went from living in a huge house, with a full basement, and two closets in my room, to sharing a tiny room temporarily with my little brother. We went from having a fishing boat that we took out on the weekends to being a one car family. The adjustment was terrifying.
I have a distinct memory of sitting in my living room at 13 years old, and just absolutely losing it.
Thirteen is a difficult age on its own. There are so many changes to be faced, developmentally, emotionally, and so on. I had never known another house my entire life, and now my sanctuary was being taken away from me. It was heart breaking. Devastating.
Events like this have a way of leaving scars that you can’t imagine if you haven’t experienced it. The best way to describe the feeling, is pure shame.
That being said, I think my favorite thing about college is the fact that everyone’s ‘house’ essentially looks the same. We all have dorms, and while some may be newer or nicer than others, for the most part, we all live in a similar space.
No one is subjected to being proud or embarrassed of where they live, and you can’t tell how much money someone’s parents make by what dorm they stay in….because it’s all random. (Apartments are a different story, but for the most part, no one is living in lavish lofts or houses while completing undergrad.)
I’ll often joke with friends about being a “broke college student”. For the majority of us, we’re all broke. We all make the desperate, begging calls to our parents, asking for a meager twenty dollars in our account. But after making these jokes, I’m left feeling like I’ve been kicked in the gut. Why?
Because I know what it’s like to really be poor.
For the time being, when the economy went under, both of my parents were unemployed, and things were rough. I couldn’t do the things that I used to be able to do with my friends because the means just weren’t there. There was no more season passes to amusement parks, no more shopping with Mom endlessly, and losing that privilege was difficult. My grandmother’s house was smaller, and I became….embarrassed to be picked up or dropped off by friends.
I have an equal sense of jealousy for my friends that have no idea what it’s like to worry about bills being paid. They have no idea what it feels like to want to work to help your parents, because you know how much it pains them to not be able to give you everything you want. Some of my friends have no concept of budgeting money, or paying for things for themselves. If you are one of these people, I am not calling you out, I just want to be sure that you are incredibly thankful of the situation that you have been given.
For the rest of my teenage years, I have always been deceitfully secretive about how much money my parents make, where I live, and our financial situation. For some reason, I want to pretend that we have it all together, because I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about my family. I’ve always felt responsible, as if I need to contribute to our family, and I have always been terrified to lose everything we have again.
Currently, as stated earlier, I am a sorority sister. I work to pay my own dues, and my parents help when they can. These are two people that work like absolute dogs to make half of what your parents probably make, but they have managed to pull themselves out of absolute despair.
I want to say that I am thankful for this situation, and it’s my number one motivation to do well in school. I want to work to not only help my parents when they are older, but I also want to have back up plans for extreme situations such as the one that my family endured.
Before you think that someone has it all together, think again. I have to budget every shirt that I buy, every dinner that I eat, and every monthly payment of dues that I pay. I am constantly worried what others think of me, my family, and my situation, because eviction and near homelessness can destroy confidence for a very long time.
I hope reading my story has made you more thankful for your circumstance, and additionally more thankful for your parents. As for me, I was blessed with two incredibly amazing people that raised me, and despite what we’ve been through, we have always had each other, and we have always had love.
My Dad used to say, “It’s always darkest before the dawn,” and I remembered this as I was touring the hospitality house, because I realized in that moment, that I was finally in a position of my life to help someone who is in a situation that I used to be in. I realized, that now, with a full ride scholarship to college- that I am finally in the ‘dawn’ of my life.
Thank you Mom and Dad, for everything.