My dad says this blog is getting boring because I no longer have lots of new-job stress and stories about screwing up. So hopefully this will be somewhat entertaining.
(Warning: Longest post ever.)
It was a dark and stormy night...Ok no, but it was a creepy, foggy morning. How forboding does this look?
I am required by my employer (Ohio Association of Second Harvest Food Banks) to apply for food stamps, both because I actually do qualify from my income -- but more importantly so that I have gone through the process and understand it when doing trainings and talking to clients. It actually has helped a great deal on that end.
We weren't allowed to use Ohio Benefit Bank to apply, because they wanted us to get the full effect of the process, with no shortcuts.
If you're good, you can get the whole thing done in two trips to the county office of Job and Family Services. I did mine in five.
Trip One (October 9): Picked up an application.
When I first walked in, it was a little confusing. There are lines snaking here and there, about seven different counters, two full waiting rooms (one on either end) and names being called over the PA system every few seconds. I almost overlooked the obvious check-in counter right in front of me.
From hearing other people's horror stories, I was expecting it to be really bad. But, while the lines were longish, it wasn't as bad as I was expecting.
You can take a number, and fill out the application on the spot as you wait to be called, but I realized I didn't know some of the information I needed. I also wasn't clear enough on the process yet that I thought I had to bring all my documentation when I first turned in the application. Silly me. So I took advantage of the luxury of a car and time to come back whenever, and left.
But there are lots of people there in scrubs or work uniforms, probably trying to squeeze things in over lunch. The office hours (730 am-530 pm M-F) aren't super-conducive to people's work schedules. And maybe they also have to find rides every time. And somehow you're supposed to bring all adults in your household -- but not your young children -- to appointments. Obviously no one listens to that rule.
Trip Two (October 15): Brought in filled out application. My first thought was that I should have stayed and waited last time, because this time, whoa, it was packed.
The check-in counter handed me a number (No. 27) and told me to take a seat. I got there at 9 and was hoping to make it out of there by an 11 am appointment with an agency around the corner. I should have gotten there earlier to be safe, but you know how that goes.
I had an online tax course I was supposed to be working through and I could have used my wait time to do that, but I would have felt way out of place pulling out a laptop in that waiting room environment. Everyone was just sitting there, not even reading. I had a sandwich too, but I also felt weird pulling that out and eating in front of people. That's probably overthinking, but I still ate it furtively in small bites torn off from inside my purse. (Probably actually drew more attention to myself that way haha.)
As the minutes clicked by, I contemplated leaving for my other appointment with my number and still getting back in time to be called. Or surprising someone in the waiting room by asking to trade them for their higher number. In the end, I just sat tight.
I was there for about an hour before my number was called. A guy at the intake counter took my application, entered some information into the computer and told me to sit back down and wait for my name to be called.
I tried to gauge how long it would take to be called by name by watching the people ahead of me, but it was hard to say. About 20 minutes before my appointment, I called and asked if we could push it back.
Just then my name was called.
A woman took me down a hallway, where she asked me a couple questions and gave me an appointment date of October 29 at 10 am and a list of documents to bring with me.
I was out at 10:55 am, in exactly enough time to make the original appointment time, so I called BACK and asked to re-reschedule it for the original time. He probably thought I was nuts. But it all worked out.
Trip Three (October 29): I arrived at 9:50 am and told the front desk I had an appointment at 10. Everything goes through social security numbers, which I entered into the keypad in front of her, and was told to take a seat.
Maybe people don't care, but it seems impersonal and embarrassing to have your name projected for all to hear over a huge PA system. No way to sneak in and out without any neighbors in the room knowing you are there. No wonder the "new poor," those who have fallen from upper-middle-class jobs due to layoffs and are applying for assistance for the first time might be too embarrassed or proud to go over there.
I noticed one caseworker came out from the center aisle and personally spoke people's names and escorted them to the center aisle himself. He seemed nice and I found myself hoping he would be my caseworker.
Which was weird, because it really didn't matter who my caseworker was. I felt like an interloper there. I was there for work, to gather information, an outsider looking in who is hoping for the best but will be fine if this doesn't work out.
Around 10:20, my name was called. "Sarah Ottney, come to the center aisle."
My caseworker was a younger woman. She said hi and then turned and I followed her into an elevator to the upper offices along with another caseworker and her client. The two caseworkers talked and joked amongst themselves without looking at us.
When we sat down in her cubicle and she starting asking me some questions still without looking at me, I was wondering if she ever would. But then she did. And actually took the time to answer a bunch of questions I'd be storing up for her. So she turned out to be pretty nice. Besides almost losing my social security card.
She went over the fine print REALLY fast, like speed talk, and then asked me if I understood my rights and responsibilities. Um, sure, I said, as my head was spinning.
I did forget some things I needed, including original birth certificate, car title and bank statements. So she said I was approved conditionally, but I'd have to come back and drop those things off before Nov. 9 before I could actually get my card.
Ohio recently changed its requirements so that assets like money in bank accounts actually don't count toward food stamp eligibility (it's based solely on income), so I assumed they wouldn't need those things. But they apparently still need to have copies. Which is stupid.
Trip Four (November 3): I had to stop at JFS for another reason, so I went ahead and brought three of my four forgotten documents to be scanned. Each document is scanned into a computer system under my social security number so that it will get with my caseworker and be paired up with my application.
Trip Five (November 6): Rounded up the fourth and final document and brought it in to be scanned.
Each time I was there, I really wanted to take pictures of the full waiting rooms and lines for this blog, but it seemed awkward. I'm pretty sure no one going there is interested in documenting the process, and would be confused if not mad why anyone else would be. I didn't know what they would say or do if I took pictures of them. Probably nothing, but I didn't want to be rude. I did sneak one blurry one while standing in line at the documents counter.
In the meantime, I'd gotten a letter in the mail saying I was eligible for food stamps and would be receiving them in the mail soon.
Food stamps, by the way, are not actually stamps any more. They are loaded onto a card that looks like a debit card, which is discreet because it swipes just like any other card. And new dollars are automatically loaded each month. Handy dandy.
