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This is to certify that the

thesis entitled

Oppression Within the Welfare State:
A Case Study of an AFDC Mother

presented by

Patricia Lynne McAfee

has been accepted towards fulfillment
of the requirements for

Masters degree in Arts

 

Major professor

M 17 1989
Date a'y ’

 

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MSU Is An Affirmative ActlorVEqual Opportunity Institution

 

OPPRESSION WITHIN THE WELFARE STATE:
A CASE STUDY OF AN AFDC MOTHER

By
Patricia Lynne HCAfee

A THESIS

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

MASTER OF ARTS
Department of Sociology

1989

ABSTRACT

OPPRESSION WITHIN THE WELFARE STATE:
A CASE STUDY OF AN AFDC MOTHER

BY
Patricia Lynne HCAfee

This case study of a single mother living in Northern
Michigan explores what it means to be a recipient of Aid to
Families with Dependent Children (AFDC) in the contemporary
United States. Using participant observation and interviews
to capture the daily living experience of welfare
recipients, the thesis suggests that the "dependency model"
of welfare does not adequately explain the situation of
women receiving governmental support.

Rather, the findings of the study suggest that these
women are not immobilized within the welfare system. They
maintain a critical consciousness of their situation and
exercise reasoned action in their daily lives. That is,
women may choose to comply or resist within the structural
constraints of the welfare system, utilizing resources that
are available to them. Both compliance and resistance
reflect the conscious choices and the women's decisions are
a product of their views of themselves, the context of their
activities, the likely outcomes of their choices, and their

sense of responsibility for their children.

For Mick

iii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am especially grateful to my advisor, Melissa Barker,
for her consistent support, encouragement and guidance. Her
timely and thoughtful reading of earlier drafts was greatly
appreciated. I would also like to thank my committee
members, Rita Gallin and Bo Anderson, for their
contributions. Rita Gallin was especially helpful and
supportive.

I would also like to thank the women of my AFDC support
network. Their willingness to participate in this research
was invaluable.

Special thanks to Imogen Bowers for her belief in my
abilities and her encouragement. Also thanks to my friends

here at M.S.U.

iv

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter
I 0 INTRODUCTION 0 O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 0
II. LITERATURE REVIEW AND THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK .
III. DESCRIPTION OF THE METHOD . . . . . . . . . .
IV. CASE STUDY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Background to the Case Study . . . . . . . .
Case Study Narrative . . . . . . . . . . . .
V 0 ANALYSIS 0 I O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
Homelessness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Honey 0 O O O O I O O O O O O O O O O O O 0
Relationships with Men . . . . . . . . . . .
The Medical System . . . . . . . . . . . . .
FOOd Stamps 0 O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 0
VI. CONCLUSION AND SUGGESTIONS FOR FUTURE RESEARCH

SELECTED REFERENCES AND BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . .

12

15
15
18

33
33
35
38
39
42

44

49

CHAPTER ONE

INT ODUCT ON

Women and children are likely to be reduced to serious
poverty when they are deprived of men's contribution to the
family income. When they become clients of the 0.8. welfare
system, the system assumes the role of the absent father and
husband. By accepting the minimal subsistence provided by
the system, women are expected to submit to the rules the
system sets for their daily lives, including such essentials
as where they live, what medical care they receive, what
relationships they have, and what food they eat. The system
uses structural constraints to control the daily lives of
these women. This paper is about the relationship between
women and the welfare system.

Much of the literature on the welfare system emphasizes
that "welfare mothers" become dependent on the system and
consequently immobilized in their daily lives (Harrington
1962; Piven and Cloward 1979; Seligman 1970; and Sidel
1986). Yet, my actual contact with women on welfare seemed
to suggest that they were far from passive and "immobile".
Therefore, despite the presence of significant constraints
in the system, the dependency model did not seem to
adequately explain the life situations of these women.

Rather, actual experience with the welfare system raised a

2
number of questions: How did these women maintain their
sense of agency within the structural constraints of the
welfare system? In what ways did they avoid immobilization
and exercise consciousness and reasoned action in their
daily lives? In what ways did they intervene, or refrain
from intervention in their daily lives, and how did they
respond to this dialectic of compliance and resistance?

In an attempt to answer these questions and to better
understand both the types of control and the strategies
women employ to function within the welfare system, eight
women who are recipients of Aid to Families with Dependent
Children (AFDC) were interviewed. I first met Reba, the
main respondent, five years ago when I was a student in her
home town. I was living in University Housing and was also
an AFDC recipient. Reba was my neighbor and I became a part
of a network of single mothers going to school, and
subsisting on AFDC. As I became involved in this group, I
learned some of the strategies of living within the welfare
system which included "working the system," creating
cooperative living arrangements and providing each other
with mutual support. We had our own subculture, presenting
one face to the welfare system, at times compliant and at
times resistant, and then coming home to be ourselves and
face the realities of motherhood on a limited income,
including the demoralization and deprivation that goes hand-

in-hand with the welfare check. There was a tacit but clear

3
goal among the welfare mothers that "we are here to raise
our children right now and we will do whatever it takes to
do that." Having established that priority, daily life
became a process of choice -- choosing to comply with or to
resist the welfare system to meet that end.

As a graduate student, I have become increasingly
intrigued with oppression, especially the structural
constraints of the welfare system, and the ways in which
women's lives reflect the dialectic of compliance and
resistance necessary to operate within that system. In
attempting to better understand this process, I returned to
Reba and our network of friends in Worcester.

In this project, I have constructed a descriptive case
study, focusing on one woman's daily life but with elements
of all eight interviews contained in the narrative. By
analyzing this case, it became possible to understand the
structural constraints of the welfare system as they
affected women's daily lives, and to identify the strategies
of compliance and resistance that women employed to meet
their needs and those of their children.

The paper begins with a brief review of the welfare
system in the U.S., specifically AFDC. Next, the dependency
theory of poverty and the significance of individual agency
are discussed. Following this discussion, a case study
narrative is presented. This narrative is then analyzed in

terms of the respondent's strategies of compliance and

4
resistance within the welfare system. In the final section,
the notion of dependency is discussed and its applicability
to the respondent and other women on welfare is carefully

considered.

CHAPTER TWO

LIIEBAIQBE_BEEIEE.AHD_IEEQBEIIQAL_EBAMEEQBK

The relevant literature for this project included
readings on the U.S. welfare system, feminist theory,
dependency theory and agency. In order to contextualize the
life experiences of women on welfare, literature on the
welfare system in the U.S. was the first area of focus.
Literature on the welfare system emphasizes that poverty is
a problem experienced by many women and children in the
United States. The odds that people will be poor at some
point in their lives are twice as great if they are female
than if they are male (Freeman 1984, 492). Almost two-
thirds of the impoverished adults in the U.S. are women, and
one out of every three people living below the poverty line
is a child (Freeman 1984, 492).

Welfare programs such as Aid to Families with Dependent
Children (AFDC) were designed to deal with this problem.
Enacted in 1962, AFDC is an outgrowth of the Aid to
Dependent Children (ADC) provision of the 1935 Social
Security Act. In order for a family to qualify for AFDC
cash assistance, there must be children who are deprived of
the financial support of one of their parents due to death,
disability, absence from the home, or unemployment.1 In

addition, the family's income must fall below a

predetermined needs standard. The actual amount of the

AFDC2 payment depends on the number of persons in the

household and the amount of other income and assets. AFDC

recipients may be eligible to receive medical services under

the Medicaid program (Title IX of the Social Security Act)

and other-services such as food stamps.

Although AFDC was implemented to "fix" the problem of

poverty, even before the Reagan budget cuts, no state in the

country provided AFDC payments above the poverty level.3 A.

further look at the 1984 system of AFDC reveals these facts:

*
*

*

Four out of five AFDC families are headed by women.
Eighty-eight percent of all AFDC recipients, a total
of over seven million people, are children.

Half of these children are eight years old or
younger.

Approximately 45 percent of the children on AFDC are
eligible because their parents are divorced or
separated.

One out of every four American children will depend

on AFDC at some point in his/her life (Sidel 1987,
84).

Thus, as these statistics indicate, poverty in the U.S. is a

significant, ongoing social problem which has a specific

impact on women and children.

Other literature documents the fact that poverty

weakens physical and emotional strength and perpetuates the

conditions of subordination of women and children. For

example, poor people may get sick more than anyone else in

society, due to inadequate housing and unhygienic

conditions, inadequate diets, and lack of decent medical

care (Belle 1982: Harrington 1962). When they become sick,

7
they are sick longer than any other group in society.
Because they are sick more often and longer than anyone
else, they lose wages and work. And because of this, they
cannot pay for good housing, for a nutritious diet, and for
doctors.

This is only one example of the vicious circle of
dependency described in the literature. Women on AFDC are
kept dependent on the welfare system for various reasons.
Many welfare programs (such as AFDC) reinforce subordination
and dependence. The notion of "welfare" brings to mind
notions of care. Yet welfare programs are tainted with
stigma and thoughts of "deservingness," and once the welfare
aid is received it acts as proof of individual inadequacy.
For example, food stamps and/or a medicaid card serve as
immediate visual labels that one is "on welfare." The ideas
of the "morality of the work ethic" and self-sufficiency,
which are parts of the patriarchal ideology in our
capitalistic society, reinforce the notion of the pathology
of the individual as the cause of poverty (Lee and Colin
1988: Ford 1988).

One of the key issues in the literature is whether the
welfare system, as it is currently organized, promotes
chronic dependency. There are many authors who say it does
(Harrington 1962; Piven and Cloward 1979: Seligman 1970; and
Sidel 1987). There are those who claim young women become

pregnant in order to qualify for AFDC and then use the money

8
to set up their households (Seligman 1970). There are those
who say that the benefits provided by AFDC are so minimal
that it is virtually impossible for a family to ever get
ahead (Piven and Cloward 1971; Sidel 1987). There are those
who suggest that just being a welfare recipient is so
stigmatizing and debilitating that recipients take on a
sense of fatalism, of hopelessness and powerlessness (Belle
1982). And there are those who say that AFDC is a system of
state paternalism that seeks to control poor women's lives
as familial dependence once did (Quick 1977). Each of these
analyses suggest that the welfare system is a form of social
control over women, in this case, over single women with
children, and the inevitable result is dependency and
immobilization.

Women's powerlessness also has been found to be both
internalized as well as externally imposed. This
internalization may account for women's role in their
immobilization and compliance within the welfare system.
Ortner writes of this enigma, "one of the great puzzles of
the women problem - women's nearly universal unquestioning
acceptance of her own devaluation" (1976, 76). Thus,
individual women may perform individual acts that do not
appear to be in their own immediate interests, but seem to
maintain the structured relation of men's collective power

(via the welfare system) over women.

9

This compliance is visible, and a lack of direct
resistance is a strategy the women use to deal with the
welfare system. Women on welfare must abide by certain
rules and agree to regulation and social control by the
welfare system to receive monthly AFDC benefits. Thus, on
the surface, AFDC recipients may appear passive in the face
of the persistent intrusions into their personal domain and
the suppression of their living standards.

What is less apparent is the fact that these women are
also agents within the oppression of the welfare system, and
that they have the capacity to make choices. To be able to
"act otherwise” means being able to intervene in the world
with the result of influencing a specific process. As
Giddens writes:

. . . to be an agent is to be able to deploy

(chronically, in the flow of daily life) a range

of causal powers, including that of those deployed

by others. Action depends upon the capability of

the individual to 'make a difference' to a

preexisting state of affairs or course of events

(1984, 14).

Acknowledging the potential for agency suggests the use of a
dialectical approach to analyzing women's poverty. That is,
since there may be ways in which women react and interact
with the system by complying and resisting within the
welfare system, the notion of dependency must be
reconsidered. This approach is based in the Marxist

conception of powerlessness and dependency, as concrete and

materially determined: and the notion that it must be

10
concretely and externally undone to be changed (MacKinnon
1982).

Women as actors continuously monitor the flow of their
activities and maintain an understanding of the grounds of
their activity. An AFDC mother is aware of her situation
and oppression (many times more so than others who claim to
be the "experts"). Though subject to control and
oppression, a woman may still make choices, guided by her
awareness, to maximize her sense of freedom and autonomy
within the structural constraints. Additionally, women act
consciously, with an understanding of their situation, even
when they may seem to others to be acting against their own
interests. They have reasons for their actions, reasons
that consistently influence the flow of day-to-day
activities. Agents virtually all the time know what their
actions are and why it is they carry them out. Yet, the
activities of AFDC mothers are embedded within the welfare
system, and are elements of, and structured properties of,
that institution. Thus, acknowledging that women are agents
does not deny that they are agents within structural
constraints. Structures limit behavior, although within
those limits, the agent may be capable of making choices.

All forms of dependence offer some resources whereby
those who are subordinate can influence the activities of
their superiors. This is the "dialectic of control" in

social systems (Giddens 1984, 16). Living on welfare

ll
involves a struggle between the system and the individual
and results in the synthesis of a daily life of resistance
and compliance.

It was my purpose in this project to capture the
"active" components of the daily lives of mothers who are
AFDC recipients, with the intention of identifying the
structural constraints imposed on women's daily lives by the
welfare system, as well as the potential for compliance and

resistance that is representative of their agency.

CHAPTER THREE

DE§§BI£IIQHLQE_IHE_MEIHQD

The method used to collect data for this paper was a
combination of interviews and participant observation. The
data are presented in the form of a case study narrative.
This method of collecting data was chosen because it has the
advantage of experiencing real-life situations. Dorothy
Smith argues for a "sociology for women" which, she says,

preserves the presence of subjects as knowers and

actors. It does not transform subjects into

objects of study or make use of conceptual devices

for eliminating the active presence of subjects

(1987, 16).
This method takes the subject's immediate experiences and
explores how that experience is extended into social and
political realms (Howard 1989, 21). It uses the experienced
worlds of the actors (respondents) as a source of concerns,
information and understanding and redirects sociology back to
its roots in the realm of experience.

To collect the data, I spent three days and two nights
with Reba.* About the same time, over a two-week period, I
interviewed seven other women who relied on AFDC as their means

of support. They were all single mothers who had been

divorced, with children ranging in age from three to nineteen.

 

*The names of the people in this study have been
changed to protect their anonymity. Real names of people
and places are not used.

12

13
Four of them were attending school and lived at University
Housing, the other three lived elsewhere in the town. Reba
referred me to each of them.

There were common themes in all of the interviews, but
the most prevalent similarity was the women's desire to
share their stories. Each interview lasted at least two
hours, some continuing up to three or four hours. After I
completed the first three interviews, I began to relax and
really listen, becoming more interested with the women, as
people, and their stories, rather than in adhering to the
very well-defined and rigid interview schedule that I
anticipated using.

As I listened I began to hear the common themes of the
interviews, the similar feelings about the oppression they
all shared. By the time I got to my eighth, and final
interview with Reba, I was using open-ended questions. I
had altered my interview format along the way, and with Reba
I had reached a stage where I allowed the daily events of
her life, to structure the format of the interview. The
case study presented in the form of Reba's narrative is
used because her story resonates and reflects the
experiences of all eight women. Women need to be heard,
women need to articulate and express who they are so they
can be heard.

In constructing and analyzing the case study, I am also

bringing in my own perspective. As a former client of the

14
welfare system, I have a heightened awareness of this
subject. I believe that this awareness results in added
insight to the material, an understanding that goes beyond
previous analyses and reaches into the inner lives of women
on welfare. At the same time, I realize that my own

experiences flavor this research and analysis.

CHAPTER FOUR

QA§E_§IQDX
In this chapter I first offer a description of the

rural region in which Reba lives and discuss elements of
rural poverty. Next, I discuss the issue of inter-
generational welfare and long-term dependency on the welfare
system. Following this is Reba's narrative, her story in
her own words, as told to me during the three days that I
stayed with her. The narrative consists of those portions
of Reba's dialogue that seemed most illustrative of her

daily life as a welfare recipient.

WW
It is important to situate Reba's individual story

within the context of the region in which she lives.
Although poor people live everywhere, some areas and regions
have such heavy concentrations of rural poverty that they
stand out. The Upper Great Lakes is one such region that
contains a distinct concentration of the rural poor.

Reba lives in Worcester, a port town located in a
remote area on Lake Superior. This area (which includes the
northern parts of Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota) is
frequently referred to as the "cutover region" and is often

described as another Appalachia, or another Ozarks (Seligman

15

16
1970) because of its rural isolation and economic
deprivation.

The town was founded in the 1840s and enjoyed the
prosperity afforded by its rich iron ore and timber
resources until the late 1950s when the depletion of these
resources threw the area into unemployment and poverty.‘4 It
seems unlikely that the previous peaks of employment will
ever be reached again. Tourism, ski resorts, and new
industries appear to be the only way out of the economic
decline, yet the future of the area remains unknown.

People are leaving this region. Unemployment has
forced them to choose either relief or migration out to
search for work. This out-migration is typical in these
strictly rural areas that have the lowest incomes (Freeman
1984, 156). This has meant that those left behind are often
worse off than before and that their chances of escaping
from poverty, or avoiding deeper poverty, have been reduced.
This is partly because the areas have too many old people
and children for the working—age population to support.
Partly, it is because a smaller population, spread too
sparsely, cannot support or build a strong, flexible social
and economic infrastructure in the area. And largely it is
due to the distribution problems inherent in the U.S.
capitalist system.

There are not enough new jobs opening up in rural areas

to alleviate rural unemployment or make a dent in rural

l7
poverty. Even where new jobs do appear, the applicant needs
help in acquiring a new skill for the job, in adjusting to
new working conditions, or in moving to a new location.

Most of the rural poor in the cutover region are white
(Labadie, Wang and Beegle, 1983). Poverty in Michigan is
most severe for female-headed households with young
children. White female-headed households with children
under the age of six accounted for 52.2 percent of the poor
in Michigan in 1980 (Saari 1980).

Long-term dependence on the welfare system is a
characteristic of Reba's life. She has been a welfare
recipient for seventeen years, and her own mother also
raised her while receiving support from the welfare system.
When Reba was thirteen years old her mother remarried a man
who was employed and could support them.

A common belief is that long-term dependency is less
prevalent than short term dependency. It is true that there
are a great many more short-term episodes of AFDC use than
is commonly assumed. Duncan and Hoffman show that 48
percent of all women beginning a "spell” of AFDC use will
remain on the rolls for only 1 to 2 years, and 17 percent
for 8 or more years (Block 1986, 63).

However, a different picture is apparent when we ask
how many people on the AFDC rolls gt_a_pgrtigglgz_pgigt_in
time are in the midst of a long or short spell. Only 15

percent are undergoing a short spell, but 49 percent are

l8
undergoing one that will last eight or more years (Block
1986, 63). Looking at the rolls over a period of time shows
a high degree of transiency, but looking at them at a point
in time emphasizes persistent use. At any one time, about
two-thirds of the mothers on AFDC are either continuous or
multiple recipients.

The longer-term recipients of welfare tend to be
younger, unmarried women. For this younger group (older and
previously married women remain on welfare less time),
welfare provides the financial means to rear children in the
absence of male wages and realistic opportunities to work,
at least while their children are very young (Sidel 1987).

Reba first became a welfare recipient at the age of
eighteen. Although she had her first child at the age of
seventeen, her mother supported her and the child until she
became eighteen and was no longer a minor. Over the next
ten years, Reba went off AFDC and into the work force seven
times, each period lasting no longer than eleven months.

All of her jobs were minimum wage jobs which offered no
benefits. As Reba states it, "I couldn't afford to be

employed."

§A§E_§IHDX_HABBAIIEE
When I went to interview her, Reba was 33 years old and
did not have a wage job. She had been camping for one and

one-half weeks at a local tourist park. Staying with her

19
was Carol, a 19 year old woman who had been Reba's roommate
for a year. When Reba's baby Coco was born 18 months ago
with Down's Syndrome, Reba had advertised for live-in help
(in exchange for reduced room and board). Carol waitressed
at a local restaurant and also received General Assistance.5

Reba's son, John, was camping there also. He was
seventeen and would be a high school senior in the fall.
Reba's daughter, Coco, was eighteen months old, but
developmentally disabled due to Down's Syndrome. She
functioned at the six-month level, and had had open heart
surgery six months earlier to correct a birth defect in her
heart.

Also frequently visiting the campsite was Reba's
sister, Jill. Jill was 27 years old and currently attending
the university and living in University Housing. She had a
seven year old daughter and was also an AFDC recipient.

I met with and interviewed each of these people, as
well as seven other welfare mothers in the two weeks I was
in Worcester. Three of those days I camped with Reba and
participated in her daily life.

When I drove into the tourist park to meet with Reba,
the park was packed with campers with out-of—state license
plates. Reba had borrowed two tents and had them pitched at
a campsite in the middle of the park. One was a four-person
tent where she and her baby slept, and where she stored her

food and clothing. The other was a pup tent, where her

20
roommate, Carol, slept. Her son, John, slept in their rusty
old '73 Chevy. The campsite also had a picnic table and two
cots for lounging (borrowed from a friend). John had rigged
up a stereo system with speakers from the car. When I
arrived there at noon, the day was hot and humid, in the
905, and the black flies were biting relentlessly.

Reba had put Coco in a playpen and covered it with a
sheet to protect her from the flies. They had just returned
from the showers at the campsite's main building (one could
purchase 5 minutes worth of hot water for 35 cents). Also
there were Reba's sister, Jill, and Reba's roommate, Carol.

Carol was lying on a cot and reading a Self magazine,
while Jill and Reba sat at the picnic table and smoked
cigarettes and drank pop. When I sat down with them, the
conversation turned to welfare. Jill began the dialogue:

I don't like people who screw-up the system by

cheating. It screws it up for everyone else. I

work around it so it doesn't affect my assistance.

Carol added:

I don't report my tips and I only work the minimum
amount of hours so I'll still be eligible for
assistance.

But Reba explained the problems of working for a wage:

You get the minimum wage on the job. . . that's
$3.35 an hour. Out of this you pay $1.50 an hour
for babysitting. That leaves you $1.85 an hour
with which you buy and maintain a car to get back
and forth to work, plus pay for gas and insurance
and buy the license plates. Nothing is left for
food, rent, clothes and medical care. No minimum
wage job gives you benefits like insurance,
either. Even if you work full-time you don't make
any money. At least on AFDC, I can be with my

Jill

21
kids and get Medicaid. Jill, you know how many
times I've had to quit working 'cause I couldn't
afford it anymore.
added:
I sure do. I'm forced to keep my hours down
myself or they'll yank me off. I wouldn't mind,
but I want the Medicaid.

Jill left the campsite with her boyfriend and Carol

went to the 35-cent showers to get ready for work. She was

waitressing on the afternoon shift.

While Coco slept in the playpen, Reba talked about her

homelessness:

I'll be here for another three or four days,
anyways. Until I can move into a new place. I've
already been here for a week and a half and I'm
completely burnt on it.

We'd been living in a very nice two-story house
for seven months. Now I know why they rented it
to us right away. . . they were going to sell it
and it was hard for them to find tenants that knew
their time was limited. It seemed as though I had
just settled in when the house was sold. We had
been there seven months and I was really starting
to feel secure when they told me I would have to
move within a month.

I began frantically looking for another place.
This was hard for me to do in the first place
because Coco has been sick since she was born. . .
because she's Down's Syndrome she's always getting
a cold or earache. . . and also because our car's
screwed up. Anyway, no one on ADC ever has money
for gas.

Finally, I found a place I wanted. This is after
I was turned down at three other places that I
liked. The others wouldn't rent to me, even
though I had four excellent references from
previous landlords. I pay the rent and I'm clean.
I finally had Carol, my roommate, sign the lease
'cause she has a real job as a waitress at a local
restaurant.

22

They don't want to rent to welfare. They
immediately think you're irresponsible and dirty.
What it boils down to is that you must start
lying. If you are honest about AFDC, they won't
rent to you. So you learn to lie. Some women
call it "working the system." After a while on
AFDC, you learn these tricks of the trade.

Well, it's fucked because I believe in God and I
also believe in Karma. . . that what you put out
is what comes back to you. Although I have to
lie, I believe that I make up for it with my
daughter, Coco. She is a gift from God because
she'll never be able to deceive. . . her life of
being Down's Syndrome is a life of pure, clean
honesty.

Anyway, I had to be out of our house by July 15...
and I couldn't move into this new place until
August 1. This was the fourth place I tried and
when I finally got it, I was so tired of being put
on trial that I took it, even though that left me
with two weeks with no place to stay. Thank God
it's summertime so I could camp out! I decided to
make it an adventure. I like camping, so I
borrowed the tents from Bill, and the cookstove
from Martha, and Carol had the cots. I decided to
look at it like a vacation. People come up here
to camp out on vacations all the time, don't they?
I am surrounded by tourists. . . just look around.
The only thing is, I'm not enjoying it.

The heat and flies are unbearable. The vacation
spirit is killed when you worry all the time. I
can barely get together the $8.50 a night it costs
to stay here. My stomach burns. I feel sick over
it and I'm just plain scared. When you have an
eighteen month old baby that's sick, you want a
roof over her head. It eats away at me. Also, my
sign is Cancer, and we like to settle in. . . make
a nest for ourselves.

I was just starting to feel settled in at my last
place. I put lots of time and energy into that
house. Wherever I move, I try to make it a _
home... I want it cozy and comfortable for me and
my family. I painted the downstairs walls white
and refinished the staircase. My life is my home,
and when I settle in somewhere, I do it with my
heart. I feel like my home is my little corner of
the world, and I live by that saying, "home is
where the heart is!" It was the nicest place I'd

23

ever had and now I know why they rented it to

me... because they wanted temporary tenants.

Still, I think the realtors felt bad because they

let me go rent-free this month so that I could

afford a security deposit on my next place.

At this time, Reba left in my car to go do the laundry
at University Housing (where her sister lives). Reba drove
off and as I sat babysitting Coco at the picnic table, I
surveyed the campsite. It was obvious that even here, Reba
had tried to "nestle in." She had draped the picnic table
with a red and white checkered tablecloth. On one of the
tables stood various items -- salt and pepper shakers,
ketchup, a large plastic bottle of Pepsi, a box of crackers,
handiwipes, Coco's baby bottles and a teething ring. On the
other end of the table was a mirror, shampoo, bar soap in a
soap dish, paper towels and an ashtray. Under the picnic
table was a cooler that held ice, luncheon meat, bread,
milk, cheese, jars of peanut butter and jelly, and a glass
jar of orange juice.

Next to the cooler was a large box of generic
disposable diapers and a large plastic jug of water. A
playpen and a stroller stood a few feet from the picnic
table and in the center of a circle bounded by the two
tents, picnic table, and car. Coco slept quietly in the
playpen which was covered with a sheet. Between two large

jack pines, Reba had hung a clothesline. Towels and jeans

hung from it.

24

On the entrance to the larger tent, Reba had hung a
cardboard sign that read "Friends Become our Chosen
Families." A broom rested against the side of this tent
and, as we talked, Reba would periodically sweep the grounds
of the campsite.

In front of the entrances to both tents were rag rugs.
Reba would shake these out at times, too. While she talked
she would move about doing these domestic chores, often
pausing to smoke a cigarette and talk.

When Reba returned after two hours, she began telling
me her thoughts on money. She had stopped at the store on
the way back and bought chicken and charcoal, and she began
to cook dinner on the grill that the campsite provided.
Coco woke up and as Reba cooked, I fed her a bottle of milk
with two eye-droppers of antibiotic medicine in it. Reba
continued her story:

Well, I don't know if I can keep this meal down.

My stomach is really upset. I'll take some Tums,

but I think it's just nerves. I wish someone

would bring a joint over -- pot seems to settle me

down.

Usually I can trade some food stamps for a joint

or two. Now I have $200 in my tent that I got

back as a security deposit refund from my last

place. I could use some of that to buy pot. I

was supposed to give all of it to my landlord

yesterday. His office is closed now, so I'll go

over on Monday and give it to them.

I won't open a bank account because you have to

show reports to welfare of any bank accounts that

you have. If they see $200 in there, they'll cut

my food stamps. But I do worry about it being

stolen. When Coco had her heart surgery and was
in I.C.U., someone stole my purse from the I.C.U.

25

waiting room. It had $400 in it that I had
borrowed from relatives. After we eat, we'll go
to a friend's house and hide it in her potted
plants. She's left for the weekend, but she gave
me her key.

The thing about money, when you're on welfare is
that it's not like real money. To me, it has
little value. First, because there's so little of
it, and second, because it's never really you;
money. . . It's the government's money. If
anything, money's a hassle.

If you are lucky enough to find a landlord that
will rent to you, they will want the rent
"vendored." This means that you never even see
the money. . . it goes straight from the
government's hands to the landlord's. They bypass
you entirely. The vendor program makes you feel
like you're not even there.

If you screw-up even once on AFDC, they take you
off unless you agree to be vendored. They call it
voluntary, and you have to sign a paper that you
requested it. But it's not a choice. They think
they've got us under their thumbs.

They vendor utilities, too. Even with vendoring,
there's never enough money to meet the bills.
Most months, especially in the winter, I have to
go through all the shit of applying for emergency
aid.

For example, I can't get my utilities turned on at
my next place because the utility company told me
that I had $130 in arrearage when I went to
transfer my electric from my old place to my new
one. I didn't even know this because, like I
said, when you're vendored the utility company
deals directly with Social Services. I figured I
overspent my limit. So the utility company said I
would have to pay that bill before I could get my
power turned on at my new place.

I called my social worker and she told me that a
$40 deposit to the utility company would be
enough, but that first I had to go to the power
company and get a statement of how much was paid
on my last bill. Then I have to make an
appointment with a social worker and show all the
receipts from the first of the year. She must
okay that and then she calls the utility company

26

and gives them the go ahead. Then I have to take
the utility company the $40 deposit. If it all
comes together, then I'll get my power on.

As Reba talked, she reached for a cigarette and after
inhaling, set it in the ashtray and picked up her Tums.
put two of these antacids in her mouth and chewed while
smoked:

Now you figure that out. . . That's four trips --
two to Social Services and two to the utility
company, and these places are seven miles apart.

I have a car that barely runs, with no insurance,
no gas, and a baby that's sick. There is no bus
to the utility company that's five miles out of
town. Even if I do get my car running, I'm always
worried that I'll get stopped for a loud muffler
or expired license plates and then they'll see
that I have no insurance and I'll get in trouble.
0r, worse yet, I'll get in an accident, or maybe
I'll run out of gas and there I am, stuck on the
road with Coco.

Sometimes I feel like I'm just a puppet on a
string. I feel like I'm invisible, like I have no
say in anything that goes on. I just do what they
say and hope that in the end, I'll have food and
shelter for myself and my kids.

At one point my sister, Jill, and I moved in
together. We thought that if we shared a house,
we could make ends meet better. . . up 'til then
Jill had lived in the upstairs apartment and paid
$175 a month and one-third of the utilities (Coco
was responsible for one-third according to her
grant). If we rented under one name instead of
two on the lease, we could rent the house for a
total of $400 instead of $475. So we called our
social workers and they told us to go for it.
They told us it would not affect our grants.

The first thing they did was cut our food stamps.
When we called the workers back, they said, "How
much rent do you pay?" We said, ”$200 a piece."
My worker said, "There you go -- you could never
afford that nice a place if you lived by
yourselves." Sure, we had a nice house, but our
fucking refrigerators were bare.

She

she

27

The chicken was cooked by now and we ate our dinner.
After this, Reba washed up the few dishes with water from a
large jug that she'd had John fill at the campsite's main
building.

John and three of his friends stopped by and visited
for about an hour. John and Reba talked about John
babysitting Coco that night so Reba could go out. John
wanted to go to a party with his friends so I agreed to
babysit. John then left with his friends and Reba and I
resumed our discussion. This time the conversation turned
to relationships with men. Reba continued:

Occasionally, I'll see Coco's father. I'll run
into him, but I think he's afraid of me. . . He
avoids me.

Social Services requires that you give them the
father's name and address and then they pursue him
through Friend of the Court. That's a legal
system where a lawyer goes after the father if
they can find him and he doesn't admit paternity,
they can force him to have a blood test. If that
proves that he's the father, then he's legally
required to make child support payments. If he
makes the payments, the amount of money he pays is
deducted from your grant. Most of us don't care
if the Friend of the Court pins down the fathers
or not. . . our grants are just decreased is all.
They did all this with Ray (Coco's dad). . . he
took the blood test and it proved he was the
father. But he doesn't have a job either, so he
can't make the payments. I still want to be
friends with him and have him come see his
daughter, but the process has scared him off, I
think.

Mike is the man in my life right now, but he has
another woman, too. All of my mates have had
other women -- every single fucking one of them.
It's no wonder my self-esteem is shot. But still,
Mike gives me what I call the three S's --
Sympathy, sincerity and Security.

28

He gives me support a lot of the time, but

headaches, too. If Social Services finds out that

you are having a relationship with a man, they

want him to help you right away. You can't have a

decent relationship because you are constantly

hiding it so they won't cut your benefits. . . it

drives the men away and you never get married. I

think they [Social Services] like to keep you

alone and in their control.

Since Reba had decided that she wanted to go to some
bars that night with some of her friends, we agreed to
resume our interview the next morning.

The following morning, Reba was very ill. She had
severe stomach pains, nausea, and diarrhea. At 9 A.M. I
took her to the emergency room at a local hospital. Her
roommate, Carol, stayed at the campsite to take care of
Coco.

At first, the staff at the emergency room was reluctant
to admit Reba because she didn't have her Medicaid card with
her. She told them that it was packed in storage in a
friend's basement with her other things. We were at the
emergency room for three hours, which seemed strange to me
as I waited, since there was only one other patient there.
Eventually, Reba came out. She was crying. We went to a
local restaurant where she talked about her problems in
dealing with the medical system.

They want me to go into treatment for alcoholism

because they knew I was hung-over from last night.

I think that's why they kept me there so long. . .

they were hoping I'd give in. But I held firm.
Who would take care of my kids?

29

They would stick my kids in foster care and then,
if they decided I was unfit as a mother, I would
never get them back. I'm sure I could just pick
up and go into treatment for 30 days. . .
frankly, it would be wonderful. . . at least I
would have a bed and three meals a day. It would
be a rest, actually it would be a luxury. But, I
have my kids to take care of.

They said I have an ulcer probably and that I
shouldn't drink or smoke. I need to get some
medicine but I can't get it without my Medicaid
card. Carol is on medicine that's like that.
I'll borrow some from her and then pay her back
when I get mine.

They want me to get stomach X-rays. Well, I won't
drink for a while, although I don't think it's a
question of whether I can handle it. The worst
part is that I spent $50 out of the $200 deposit
fund. I'll just have to see if they can let me
pay half of it this month, and the other half next
month. Or, I'll take it out of my AFDC check on
Monday.

I'm stressed out and drinking helps me relax and
forget for a while. It's a diversion. But, in
the end it doesn't help matters anyway. I can't
afford to be sick. I'll look for support. A lot
of times I have to ask for it and now is one of
those times. It helps just to have someone
listen. When I get stressed, I use sex and drink
to deal with it. Talking with someone helps
though. . . because they can help problem-solve,
give suggestions, or tell me if my ideas are good
or not. Or if I'm justified in feeling a certain
way. I ask that a lot!

The real trial was when Coco had her heart surgery
six months ago. I really had to deal with the
whole system then. That was a real eye-opener. I
was involved with Mental Health, too, because Coco
is mentally disabled. I had worked for them
before as an aide, but it's a lot different being
on the other side. -

Mainly, I get the feeling that Coco was being
herded through. She was eligible for services
that she frequently didn't receive, simply because
I didn't know about them and so didn't ask for
them.

30

She had her surgery in Lake Park. I stayed at the
Ronald McDonald House. . . it was like a tea party
when I got together with the other parents. Right
there, I felt they didn't feel comfortable with
me, because they were afraid I'd rock the boat. I
get tired of the bullshit and I'm one to tell
people what I think. For example, when my
pediatrician would talk to me to advise me on
something, she would often begin with. . .
"Usually my ADC mothers do this. . .” It's those
labels and the attitudes that go with them that
get to me. Like we don't have our own minds and
our own set of circumstances. Like we're not
heard 8r seen. I wanted to continue on the

W.I.C. program, too, but they insisted on
examining Coco again and taking her blood, even
though I offered to show them her recent medical
records from Lake Park Hospital. I told them "no"
because I couldn't bear the thought of Coco being
poked and prodded again after all she'd been
through. They took me off the program. I felt
like they just wanted to see her 'cause she was
Down's Syndrome. Well, Coco is a gift. A Down's
Syndrome child is an entity meeting itself, at the
end of a chain of lifetimes.

We finished lunch. Reba looked exhausted and her eyes
were red and puffy. We went by a K-Mart to buy her an
antacid, and then back to the campsite so Reba could feed
Coco and take a nap with her. When she woke up, we resumed
our conversation. Reba talked about food stamps:7

Using food stamps is humiliating. My friend,
Cheryl Rose, dresses up for her pride when she
goes grocery shopping. If she sees someone she
knows, she'll go down another aisle. Another
friend, Pat, will only shop at a store that stays
open all night. She'll go after 10 P.M. to avoid
people. I don't care personally -- I just swallow
my pride and go when I can get a ride.

You can only buy food with food stamps. You can't
get stuff like toilet paper or soap. Also, you
can't get prepared food. . . like salads from the
Deli. You can't buy alcohol, but you can get
candy bars.

31

Most stores allow food stamps, but not all stores.
They usually have a sign in the window that says,

”We Accept Food Stamps". . . if you buy something
expensive like a steak, the cashier or the people

in back of you in the line get disgusted.

We never have enough food to last us for a manth.
I'm always short on food the last two weeks. My
sister, Jill, and I will go to St. Vincent's [a
charitable religious organization] to get free
food once a week. They give you surplus food, or
food that is past the expiration date.

At the end of the month, we're usually desperate.

. . John, my son, is so good about it. He'll just

say he forgot to eat. I know he's embarrassed

about food stamps, but he won't admit it. He has

lots of false pride. If we don't have enough

money to go out to eat, he just won't ask. If we

don't have enough money to do laundry at the

laundromat, he'll wash his clothes out in the

bathtub. Part of the problem is that I'll use my

food stamps to pay for babysitting and things like

storage.

This conversation was interrupted when four of Reba's
friends came to the campsite. They brought a six-pack of
beer and everyone except Reba drank one. We all sat around
the picnic table until it got dark. Soon after, we went to
sleep.

The next morning when I awoke, Reba was already at the
cookstove making what she called "lumberjack coffee." Reba,
John, Carol and I breakfasted on donuts and coffee. It was
Monday morning and I offered to drive Reba on her errands,
which included Social Services, the utility company and the
new landlord's. If she got these things taken care of, she

could begin to move. She had to wait until 1 P.M. to get

32
her AFDC check for the security deposit, but she could take
care of some other business until then.

When we left, we first went to her friend Debbie's
house so Reba could use her phone (she had to call Social
Services, her Mom, and U-Haul). I next drove her to Social
Services for an appointment with the social worker, then to
the power company where she picked up receipts from the past
year. Then we went back to Social Services where she turned
in her receipts and signed the forms. After this we
returned to Debbie's house (she had been watching Coco).

Shortly after this I left and this concluded our interview.

CHAPTER FIVE

AHALX§I§

In this section, I analyze Reba's narrative by
exploring these themes: homelessness, financial problems,
relationships with men, medical care, and food stamps. In
each area I examine the structural constraints imposed by
the welfare system on Reba's daily life, as well as
illustrate the choices she makes as she functions within
them. My analysis focuses on the dialectic of compliance
and resistance that is inherent in Reba's daily life, and
the negative and positive consequences that result from the
choices she makes. My purpose was to understand Reba's
daily life as the synthesis that is a result of the struggle

between compliance and resistance.

W

Reba chose to accept a temporary rental (a house that
was up for sale) because it was a nice house, "the nicest
place I'd ever had", and making a home was very important to
her. She described it as:

My life is my home, and when I settle in

somewhere, I do it with all my heart. I feel like

my home is my little corner of the world, and I

live by that saying, "Home is where the heart is.”

In choosing this rental, the negative consequence was that

she had to move in seven months. Still, she was aware that

33

34
the house was for sale and complied with the potential
short-term rental in order to provide herself and her
children with a home. Ironically, her desire for security
forced her to settle for less than she wanted.

She was rejected by three potential landlords in her
search for a new place:

. . .I was turned down at three other places that

I liked. The others wouldn't rent to me, even

though I had four excellent references from

previous landlords. . . they don't want to rent to

welfare. They immediately think you're

irresponsible and dirty.

Despite having four good references from previous landlords,
she was rejected as a tenant repeatedly. By being labeled
"welfare," she experienced stigmatization and discrimination
when they refused to rent to her. This is an example of a
latent constraint of the system.

Reba actively resisted this stigma in an attempt to
gain control of these contradictory circumstances (she was
homeless, yet no one would rent to her). She did this by
finally resorting to "lying":

I finally had Carol, my roommate, sign the lease

'cause she has a real job as a waitress. . . what

it boils down to is that you must start lying. If

you are honest about AFDC, they won't rent to you.

So you learn to lie. Some women call it working

the system.

In this instance, Reba's agency meant being able to "act
otherwise with the result of influencing a specific process"

(Giddens 1984, 14). Reba understood the constraints that

resulted from the stigmatization of being "welfare" and she

35
chose to resist with the intention of achieving a positive
result, that being to secure a place to live. The negative
consequence that also resulted was that she felt angry and
guilty about lying, and worried that her ”Karma” would be
negatively affected.

Another instance where Reba demonstrated agency was
turning her homelessness into a "vacation". She understood
that she was homeless, and acted consciously, with an
understanding of her situation, to transform this negative
consequence into a positive one. Again, she attempted to
gain control by taking deliberate action:

I decided to make it an adventure. I like

camping, so I borrowed the tents from Bill, and

the cookstove from Martha, and Carol had the cots.

I decided to look at it like a vacation.

This decision to "camp" had the positive result of affording
her shelter (in the form of tents) and the negative result

of causing her frustration, fright ("I'm just plain

scared"), stress and illness (her stomach hurt).

£9221

Reba understood the structural constraints imposed by
the welfare system in terms of the control over money. She
felt trapped in that she could not work in the labor force
and still meet her expenses. She also stated that the money
she received from AFDC is not her money. The money bypasses

her entirely. Where money is concerned, she expressed

36
feelings of "invisibility," referring to herself as being "a
puppet on a string" and being "under their thumbs."

The welfare system as a bureaucracy promotes behavior
in the welfare caseworkers that includes routinization and
control over their clients. Many AFDC recipients feel this
control over their personal lives, including their economic
situation. The result of Reba's compliance with the system
is that she does receive assistance in the form of AFDC cash
benefits, food stamps and Medicaid. She has decided to
comply so that she can meet her most basic needs. Yet her
compliance resulted in negative feelings:

I feel like I'm invisible, like I have no say in

anything that goes on. I just do what they say

and hope that in the end, I'll have food and

shelter for myself and kids.

Reba's drug use is an example of her resisting the
control of the system. She uses "pot" to "settle me down"
and the consequence is both positive, as a temporary
relaxation strategy, and negative, when it deprives her of
money or food stamps. She manipulates the system in this
context:

Usually, I can trade some food stamps for a joint

or two. Now I have $200 in my tent that I got

back as a security deposit refund from my last

place. I could use some of that to buy pot.

Reba also resists the system by refusing to open a bank
account. She is aware of the repercussions that could

result from this action ("they'll cut my food stamps") and

chooses to keep her money in her own possession. This can

37

be beneficial to her in that her food stamps would not be
reduced, or destructive in that it could be stolen as she
previously described:

When Coco had her heart surgery and was in I.C.U.,

someone stole my purse from the I.C.U. waiting

room. It had $400 in it that I had borrowed from

relatives.
She is aware of the risk of keeping money in her possession,
because she has had it stolen before, yet she makes the
choice that she believes most maximizes her opportunities
within the oppression of the welfare system.

The system also requires that Reba be "vendored." Reba
describes this program:

This means that you never even see the money. . .

it goes straight from the government's hands to

the landlord's. . . if you screw-up even once on

AFDC, they take you off unless you agree to be

vendored. They call it voluntary, and you have to

sign a paper that you requested it. But it's not

a choice.
By complying with the vendor program, Reba maintains her
benefits. She could choose not to comply, but then she
would be punished by being discontinued as a client. By
choosing to comply, Reba experiences feelings of
powerlessness and dependency on the system.

The welfare system also made it very difficult for her
to get her utilities turned on -- she had to make four trips

(seven miles each way) in an area without bus service.‘ The

car she used was unreliable, dangerous, and illegal. Even

38
though these frustrations angered her, she still chose to
comply with them as a strategy for survival.

She expressed agency in that she had learned "to work
the system." Because she was a 17-year veteran of the
welfare system, she was familiar with such terms as
"arrearages" and "vendor." She understood the process
extremely well on the one hand (she knew the steps to take
to get her power turned on), yet was unaware, on the other
("I don't know why I had $130 in arrearages").

Reba and Jill both took deliberate steps to improve
their daily lives by moving in together. They intended for
this action to result in decreased rent (which it did) but
did not anticipate the negative consequence of having their
.food stamps reduced. This is another example of the
oppressive control of the welfare system and Reba's attempt

to work within it.

361W

Reba's remarks about her relationships with men
emphasized the manner in which Social Services attempts to
maintain patriarchal control of its clients. The system
becomes "the husband" and institutes deterrents to dissuade
"its women" from forming relationships with men. These
deterrents include: "pinning down the father" and requiring

him "to take blood tests" and legally forcing him to "make

39
support payments." Reba discusses the results this had in
her life:

. . . I think he avoids me, he's afraid of me. . .

But he doesn't have a job either, so he can't make

the payments. I still want to be friends with him

and have him come see his daughter, but the

process has scared him off, I think.

The state, having become "the husband and father,"
specifies that if a woman wishes to remain eligible for
assistance, "no other man may have a relationship with the
mother or children (Valentine 1983, 280). Michigan has a
rule that "children would not be considered 'deprived' if
there was any man with whom the mother had a common—law
relationship" (Valentine 1983, 282). Reba discussed how
this has affected her daily life:

If Social Services finds out that you are having a

relationship with a man, they want him to help you

right away. You can't have a decent relationship
because you are constantly hiding it so they won't

cut your benefits. . . it drives the men away and

you never get married.

Yet Reba chose to resist this control of the welfare system
and established a relationship with Mike. She refuses to
comply with the system's rules and the positive consequences

of this resistance is the support he gives her in the form

"of the 3 8'8 -- Sincerity, Sympathy, and Security."

MW
Physical illness is a significant part of Reba's life,

affecting both her and her daughter. The poor get sick more

than anyone else in society.9 Reba demonstrated resistance

40
when she refused to "give into" treatment for alcoholism and
‘decided to "quit drinking for a while" on her own. In her
words:

They want me to go into treatment for alcoholism

because they knew I was hung-over from last night.

I think that's why they kept me there so long. . .

they were hoping I'd give in. But I held firm.

Who would take care of my kids?

When Reba talked about treatment, she was very informed
about the positive and negative results that could occur.
She realized it would be relaxing, a "luxury" and possibly
necessary also, yet she understood the problems she would
have with childcare, especially if the system once again
stepped in to exert control.

Reba showed compliance by waiting as long as she did in
the emergency room, but she realized this was necessary if
she were to receive medical care. It is another example of
a structural constraint.

Reba was very resourceful by working around the limits
set by her Medicaid card. She could not get her
prescription filled because the card was in storage, and she
resolved the problem by borrowing medicine from her
roommate.

Her resourcefulness frequently included asking her
friends for support. Poor women will often rely on the
cooperative support of the group she lives in (usually a

support network of other poor women):

I'll look for support. A lot of times I have to
ask for it and now is one of those times. It

41

helps just to have someone listen. . . Talking

with someone helps though. . . because they can

help problem-solve, give suggestions, or tell me

if my ideas are good or not. Or if I'm justified

in feeling a certain way. I ask that a lot!

Borrowing and repaying is one method of cooperation the
women use. Another strategy is offering support through the
channels of listening and giving advice.

When dealing with the medical system, Reba felt
"invisible, as though I'm not heard or seen." She felt Coco
had been "herded through." The system stripped her of some
of her sense of autonomy and she allowed this to happen so
that her daughter could receive medical care.

At the Ronald McDonald House, Reba felt like she was
attending a "tea party." She was resistant when she said
she "gets tired of the bullshit and. . . am one to tell
people what I think.” She was confronted with a
discriminatory attitude from her pediatrician, also, who
clearly labeled her an "ADC mother" and apparently had an
alternative treatment plan for this set of patients. This
confrontation resulted in direct resistance as displayed in
her anger.

Reba was also frustrated and angry when the people
involved with the W.I.C. program denied her (and Coco)
benefits. Again, Reba demonstrated resistance by refusing
to comply with their request for more blood tests for Coco,

yet, as a result, she suffered the negative consequence of

being deprived of this additional source of food.

 

1mm

Structural constraints are again evident in this
category. There is no mass transit system, and Reba has
difficulties with transportation. She grocery shops when
she can "get a ride." The car she uses, when it runs, is
not her own and is registered in a friend's name. The
welfare system does not allow a person on AFDC to own a car.

The system also attempts to control its clients' food
purchases. Reba gives this account:

You can only buy food with food stamps. You can't

get stuff like toilet paper or soap. Also, you

can't get prepared food. . . like salads from the

Deli. You can't buy alcohol, but you can get

candy bars.

Yet the women frequently use their food stamps for bartering
or buying childcare, for example. By using their
resourcefulness in this manner, they expand the utility of
the food stamps.

Reba also shows awareness of resources and action by
"going to St. Vincent's" (a charitable religious
organization) to get free food once a week. Although this
action involves negative consequences (finding a ride, for
example), it also results in the positive consequence of
eXpanding her nutritional resources.

Her son, John, demonstrates a similar resourcefulness

when he washes his clothes in the bathtub because he cannot

afford to go to a laundromat. He resists the limits of his

42

43
financial constraints by actively taking control of his
situation, and even though "washing clothes in the bathtub"
may not be in accordance with U.S. norms, the practice
allows him to meet his needs.

In conclusion, throughout her daily life Reba reacts to
the control of the welfare system with either compliance or
resistance. Her choices are always made within structural
constraints. Yet she knows a great deal about why she acts
the way she does, and that knowledge shapes what she does.
Although the structures limit her behavior, within those

limits she exercises choice in her day-to-day life.

CHAPTER SIX

0 _ 0 ,2- D t .- . 0.. 0; 11:1, ; 15C._1‘-,§2

My analysis illustrates how women on welfare function
within the structural constraints of the welfare system.
Reba has the choice to comply or resist and, with an
awareness of her situation, strategically decides which
action will most help her meet her needs.

This research demonstrates that Reba is not immobilized
by her oppression, but rather deploys a range of powers in
the flow of her daily life. She monitors and understands
her situation, and acts consciously to influence it, even
when that action means refraining from intervention. Her
power lies in her choice to let the welfare system affect or
not affect her daily life.

This is not to deny that oppression exists within the
welfare system. Reba's activities are embedded within that
system, and are elements of, and structured properties of,
that system. Structures limit her behavior, although within
those limits, she is capable of making choices. Living
within the welfare system involves a dialectic between the
system and the self and results in deciding between
compliance and resistance.

Possible directions for future research could be aimed

at understanding the structures of the welfare system. The

44

 

45
insights of both feminist and Marxist theory may be used to
analyze the structural constraints of the welfare system and
the effect on women. For example, capital creates and is
sustained by an ideology -- of individualism, competition,
domination, and consumerism. Patriarchy manifests itself,
and is supported by, this ideology. Thus the dilemma of
women who live on AFDC is that their existence means living
within the constraints of this patriarchal ideology.

Part of this ideology's power relies on a division
between men and women, including both a sexual division of
labor and a sexual division of ideology. The sexual
division of labor is the material base of male power that is
exercised in our society. The nature of reproduction under
patriarchy forces women on AFDC to become the third
proletariat, behind women as a class and working women
(Quick 1986). Reproduction is an unrewarded human value,
and the material basis of patriarchy requires that the work
that the women do, both in the reproductive and productive
spheres, be devalued. As Shulamuth Firestone writes, "the
material basis of patriarchy then, rests largely on
childrearing in the home, but also on all the social
structures that enable the state to control women's labor"
(Hartmann 1981).

Marxist and feminist theories can both be useful in
analyzing women's poverty and oppression, and future

research could include a dialectical analysis of the AFDC

46

system. Furthermore, my insights from this case study
suggest that the dependency model of welfare clients does
not adequately explain the life situation of women on
welfare. These women are not immobilized by the welfare
system. They exercise consciousness and reasoned action in
their daily lives including the choice to comply or resist
within the structural constraints of the welfare system.
Both intervening and refraining from intervention are
conscious choices they make, and they decide on their
actions in view of what they know about themselves, the
context of their activities, and the likely outcomes. Thus,
although women on welfare have frequently been portrayed as
passive and dependent, this research suggests that they have
the power to exercise choice within their daily lives.

This research demonstrates that there is a dialectical
relationship between the client and the system. Women on
welfare can and do demonstrate their power via compliance or

resistance.

H2395

1. This last program is called AFDC/U.

2. AFDC is funded jointly through the Social Security Act,
Title IV-A, and matching state funds. Medicaid and Social

Services are funded through the Social Security Administra-
tion (Physicians Task Force on Hunger in America 1985, 217).

3. Shortly after Reagan took office in 1981, his
administration proposed and the Congress enacted a series of
changes in the AFDC program which terminated payments to
400,000 working mothers whose wages were so low as to
entitle them to supplementary welfare payments. (An
additional 300,000 families had their monthly benefits cut
on average between $150 and $200 per month.) In most cases,
the cutoffs meant not only that these women would lose their
supplementary benefits, but that they and their children
would also lose their entitlement to Medicaid. Under these
conditions, many women would have been financially better
off if they had quit work and subsisted solely on welfare
(Sidel 1987).

4. Richard F. Odell describes this area as "one vast
wilderness park still defying the spread of cities and
highways. . . it furnishes the most graphic setting in the
state for part of what may be a final clash in the nation as
a whole between the values associated with agrarianism,
ruralism, and individualism, on the one hand, and with
industrialization, urbanization, and social integration on
the other" (Odell 1978).

5. General Assistance (G.A.) are state programs that give
money to people ineligible for federal income maintenance
programs.

6. W.I.C. -- Women, Infants and Children Special
Supplemental Feeding Program (for low-income pregnant women
and babies) to insure adequate nutrition.

7. Food stamps are not based on what it actually costs to
eat. Benefits are tied to the "thrifty food plan", the
cheapest food plan devised by the U.S. Department of
Agriculture (Physicians Task Force 1985).

47

48

8. The fact is that neither food stamps nor AFDC, nor both
together, provide American families with the level of
support required to eat nutritiously and to maintain health
(Physician Task Force on Hunger in America 1985, 134).

9. Refer to previous discussion on page 6 (Literature
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