By Shamecca Brown-Granite State News Collaborative
I know what it feels like to have a bill due when the money simply isn’t there – and I’m not saying that for sympathy. I’m saying it because sometimes we talk about poverty as if it’s a character flaw, as if people who are struggling simply aren’t working hard enough, budgeting correctly or making the right choices.
That’s not the whole story. Sometimes you’re working. Sometimes you’re doing everything you’re supposed to do, and then life happens. A tire blows. A child needs something. The rent is due. The car needs a repair. The paycheck isn’t enough. Suddenly you’re making decisions nobody should have to make: Which bill gets paid?
That’s the part of poverty that doesn’t show up neatly in a census table. A number can tell you how many people are below the poverty line, but can’t tell you what it feels like to know that paying one bill means another bill is going to be late. And it damn sure doesn’t tell you what happens when being late costs you even more money.
Because if you’re already broke, a $50 problem doesn’t necessarily stay a $50 problem. It can become a late fee, a shutoff notice, a missed shift, a transportation problem, a credit problem, a housing problem – and, eventually, another bill.
That’s the cycle I want to understand. I’m not rich. I’m not even middle class. I’m a parent swimming with my head above water, trying to keep my family afloat. And I’ve learned something along the way: Sometimes the hardest part isn’t earning money. It’s trying to stay afloat when everything costs money.
I recently told my daughter to be grateful for everything she has because this roof over her head is expensive. That’s not something I said to scare her. That’s something I said because I want her to understand reality.
A roof is not just a roof. It’s rent. It’s a security deposit. It’s utilities. It’s transportation. It’s groceries. It’s keeping the lights on. It’s keeping the car running so you can get to work. It’s having enough left over when something goes wrong. And when you don’t have that cushion, one bad week can become a very long month.
When being late costs more
Poverty isn’t just about what you don’t have. It’s also about what you get charged because you don’t have it. That’s the question I want to investigate. What does poverty actually cost in New Hampshire?
Does having less money mean paying more in fees? Does poor credit make housing more expensive? Does not having reliable transportation cost people wages? Does the lack of affordable child care limit how many hours a parent can work? Does a security deposit become the barrier between a family and a home? Does missing work to handle a government appointment, court date or housing application create another financial loss?
And when someone falls behind, how much does it cost to catch back up? Because poverty isn’t always one big bill. Sometimes it’s a hundred little ones. And they keep coming.
And then there’s race. I don’t want to simply tell you that Black Granite Staters experience poverty at a higher rate. I want to know what that poverty costs them. Because there’s a difference between saying, “You’re poor,” and asking, “How much more does your life cost because you’re poor?” That’s a question I don’t think we ask enough.
I’m not interested in making poor people into statistics. I’m interested in making the system around poverty visible.
If the data show that Black families face higher costs, more barriers or different outcomes, let’s show it. If the data don’t show that, let’s say that too. But let’s stop pretending the poverty rate is the whole story. Show me the receipts: transportation, child care, credit, banking, insurance, late fees, security deposits, court costs, missed work, the cost of trying to get help, the cost of not having help. And the cost of recovering when one thing goes wrong.
Because I’ve been close enough to this to know the numbers don’t tell the whole damn story.
Shamecca Brown is a New Hampshire-based columnist who is family-oriented and passionate about serving underserved communities. These articles are being shared by partners in the Granite State News Collaborative. For more information, visit collaborativenh.org.