More concerning work at the family help desk
I can't quite get her face out of my mind, the slight tilt to her brown leathery head, her affected way of speaking, which really is her true way of speaking, I suppose, which also has a tilt and makes me wonder what it is that she is on Social Security for. Was there an injury at the factory that she worked at for so many years that now she can no longer do any heavy lifting? Or is there something else in the slant of her voice that I should be able to pick up but that I am missing here?
"Look at how quickly she types!" She notes to her friend as I take down their addresses, trying to be professional, egalitarian, even though I'm not actually supposed to clump together such disparate cases into one like this. I have fourteen cases already, after all, and I really don't need two more. But she keeps interrupting me.
"I really need to ask you," she prefaces everything. As if no other client that comes to speak to us really needs something, "what sort of utilities help do you have?" I explain that there isn't actually any utilities help in Chicago right now because everyone ran out of funds back in January. Probably not a good start to building a relationship with a client, but in the past, clients have understood when I haven't been able to help them. This one, though, is an exception. "Huh!" She snorts. "You guys should take that off the list then!" I answer, a bit too quickly, perhaps a bit too sharply. It's up there so that we can inform clients if anything comes up. I babble about the summer weather program, and explain that normally our job is to call everyone in October when the lists open up. I turn to the next question in the intake, trying to change the subject, trying to actually get information on these women's actual situation.
But I am interrupted again. "So, about housing, is that like the CHA?" she asks. Sometimes, I reply. We're currently working on updating that database for subsidized apartments. You both signed up for the Rent better program right? I am eyed suspiciously. "Is that the Section 8 thing that they were handing out to everyone before? Yeah, we got on that." At least they aren't deluded by any sense of false optimism about that program, I think, but I soldier on and say, that we're basically working on making people aware when programs like that or waiting lists for apartment buildings open up. At the moment though, all we've heard about is that program and some program for subsidized apartments out in the suburbs.
"Which suburbs?" She demands, her gaze steadily fixed on mine, even as I, still trying to be egalitarian, am allowing my gaze to move from one woman to the other as I speak and listen. "I really don't know." I admit. "Which suburbs is it? It makes a big difference!" She exclaims, gesticulating at her friend, clearly indicating that I am a fool. "Look, I can't tell you any more than I know and they are really still collecting people's names." My words have little effect but to exacerbate matters. "So where in the suburbs are these apartments?" Her look is one of incredulity, as if by claiming uncertainty that I am somehow lying to her. I repeat what I said before and gesticulate as well.
"I'm not going to lie to you," I insist, "I don't have a magic wand that I can wave around and give everyone housing where they want it. I know that the suburbs are huge, and it is all very annoying and inconvenient but that's the way things are." The other woman is nodding and saying. "They've only just started collecting the waiting lists. No one knows where the apartments are yet." This does not seem to calm the wild-eyed woman with the slant in her voice that is already starting to grate me after the first ten minutes of our conversation, but I move on then. They didn't come to me to ask about housing anyway.
"Look at how quickly she types!" She notes to her friend as I take down their addresses, trying to be professional, egalitarian, even though I'm not actually supposed to clump together such disparate cases into one like this. I have fourteen cases already, after all, and I really don't need two more. But she keeps interrupting me.
"I really need to ask you," she prefaces everything. As if no other client that comes to speak to us really needs something, "what sort of utilities help do you have?" I explain that there isn't actually any utilities help in Chicago right now because everyone ran out of funds back in January. Probably not a good start to building a relationship with a client, but in the past, clients have understood when I haven't been able to help them. This one, though, is an exception. "Huh!" She snorts. "You guys should take that off the list then!" I answer, a bit too quickly, perhaps a bit too sharply. It's up there so that we can inform clients if anything comes up. I babble about the summer weather program, and explain that normally our job is to call everyone in October when the lists open up. I turn to the next question in the intake, trying to change the subject, trying to actually get information on these women's actual situation.
But I am interrupted again. "So, about housing, is that like the CHA?" she asks. Sometimes, I reply. We're currently working on updating that database for subsidized apartments. You both signed up for the Rent better program right? I am eyed suspiciously. "Is that the Section 8 thing that they were handing out to everyone before? Yeah, we got on that." At least they aren't deluded by any sense of false optimism about that program, I think, but I soldier on and say, that we're basically working on making people aware when programs like that or waiting lists for apartment buildings open up. At the moment though, all we've heard about is that program and some program for subsidized apartments out in the suburbs.
"Which suburbs?" She demands, her gaze steadily fixed on mine, even as I, still trying to be egalitarian, am allowing my gaze to move from one woman to the other as I speak and listen. "I really don't know." I admit. "Which suburbs is it? It makes a big difference!" She exclaims, gesticulating at her friend, clearly indicating that I am a fool. "Look, I can't tell you any more than I know and they are really still collecting people's names." My words have little effect but to exacerbate matters. "So where in the suburbs are these apartments?" Her look is one of incredulity, as if by claiming uncertainty that I am somehow lying to her. I repeat what I said before and gesticulate as well.
"I'm not going to lie to you," I insist, "I don't have a magic wand that I can wave around and give everyone housing where they want it. I know that the suburbs are huge, and it is all very annoying and inconvenient but that's the way things are." The other woman is nodding and saying. "They've only just started collecting the waiting lists. No one knows where the apartments are yet." This does not seem to calm the wild-eyed woman with the slant in her voice that is already starting to grate me after the first ten minutes of our conversation, but I move on then. They didn't come to me to ask about housing anyway.