I worked in a school located in a city housing project for 17 of the years I worked for the Board of Education in New York City. During this time I evaluated children for special education programs and interviewed parents to update social histories. I was privy to the most personal information; disturbing information from people who were suffering and in need. I was a vessel into which people dumped their pain. All I could do with what was given to me was write about it.

When a parent of six children came in one day in a panic after getting booted off welfare (a mistake) my colleague (a social worker) and I helped her financially however we could; we also relied on collections made in the school, and got her through the school year. It took that long to straighten things out.

What else do you do when a mother of six weeps and says, “I don’t want to sell my body.”?

Names have been changed and the picture altered.

  You decide whether Tina is free.

Tina, Tina, Proud and Free
©2002 poetry and art /by the author, all rights reserved

Not sure how many men I’ve been with,
Don’t know how many men I’ve known.

I’m thirty-two years old and livin’ in the projects.
Got six kids: Keisha, Darryl, Dwayne, Kenya, Sade, and Shaheim.
And pneumonia.
No money to fill the prescription,
Rudy took me off welfare and my phone don’t work to call the worker.
Two kids got shigella, I don’t know why.
We clean people, we wash.
It’s October and the food’s running out.
We can use some soap and detergent.
I don’t want to sell my body.

Not sure how many men I’ve been with,
Don’t know how many men I’ve known.

I’m Tina.  I’m thirty-two years old.Got six kids.
Why?  you askin’.
Because when I was a baby my mother gave me up,
This lady took me in.
She like my mother but she don’t love me.  Not like her own.
So I made my own family.  I made my own love.
I made my six kids. I don’t want to sell my body.

I’m thirty-two years old and livin’ in the projects.
Got six kids and my food running low.
Thanks, God bless you for all the boxes.
The clothes and food.
Look what you did for me.  Look in my cabinets.
What you watchin?  My walls move?
See them shimmer and run.  They have life, their backs
Shine like the moon, they run up and down the walls and into
The cabinets, into my secrets.
Couldn’t you help me, call the worker, tell her we hungry.
I don’t want to have to sell my body.

Not sure  how many men I’ve been with,
Don’t know how many men I’ve known.

I’m Tina.  I’m thirty-two years old and I got six kids.
My phone is disconnected and I can’t call the worker or the Supervisor.
They both have hearts with blood that don’t move.
Call this number for me.
Thanksgiving is coming.
Thanks for the hams and the turkeys.  And the shopping cart. Full.
I am at your door everyday and thanking you for all those collections.
You got any money?  Christmas is coming.I got 6 kids.They need.
My kid can’t play in gym, ain’t got no sneakers.
Please tell the welfare worker.
I don’t want to sell my body.

Not sure how many men I’ve been with,
Don’t know how many men I’ve known.

I’m Tina.  I’m thirty-two years old and I got 6 kids.
I got green mold growing on all my walls and
My kids is getting sick.  Stomach aches.
I’m gonna be a singer.  They got a contract waiting for me.
Just have to sign it.  No time to get over there.
Not feeling good.My ulcer again.
Or I can do computers.  Teach myself.
I’m good with numbers.It’s almost March.
Got any money?
I don’t want to sell my body.

Not sure how many men I’ve been with,
Don’t know how many men I’ve known.

I’m Tina.  I’m thirty-two years old and I got six kids.
They gave me a workfare job.  I’m good at the register.
Work for CVS ringing stuff up.  From four to eleven.
My neighbor watches the kids.  Gotta run to work as soon as they
Come home from school.  When I get home some are sleeping
Some are waiting for me in the dark, their eyes wide.
No check from welfare to pay the sitter yet.
I worry about the kids when I’m out.
I worry about coming home on the bus when it’s
Near midnight and the streets is empty.
Got any money to help make ends meet?  Easter is coming.
I don’t want to sell my body.

Not sure  how many men I’ve been with,
Don’t know how many men I’ve known.

I’m Tina.  I’m thirty-two years old and I got six kids.
It’s May and I need you to call my worker.
Call and tell her you need to know when I’m gonna
Get my money.
Talk to her woman to woman, mother to mother, one human to one human.
Tell her, you can’t help me forever.  That you been callin’ for seven months.
That CVS didn’t work out.
That I’m gonna to try to do it alone. Get my own job.
Tell her.
It’s going on summer.
And I don’t want to sell my body.

Post Script: Tina’s oldest son lived with his father in the Bronx. He was a good kid; he completed High School and was to begin college in September. The night before graduation he went out with friends. He was shot dead in the street.

The next day, I saw Tina on the floor of the office in fetal position.

She must have recovered.  Last I heard she was pregnant.

• Frida
• Offline

Oh, that’s such a sad story, Sue. But I love the way you tell it. It’s great that you could help, even though people in those circumstances tend to remain in them. We hear of so many similar ones here. There is “the poverty syndrome”; it’s hard and it would take an enormous effort (of all kinds) for them to jump ahead. I wish those situations didn’t exist…  🙁

Tuesday April 17, 2007 – 12:00pm (CDT) Remove Comment

• Sans
• Offline

Thank you for the beautiful comment!  And as for “Tina’s” life, it seems too unbelievable to be real. I visited the home; no beds, no food, wall to wall roaches. Yet,there were plenty of people in the project working and living decent lives.

Tuesday April 17, 2007 – 01:05pm (EDT) Remove Comment

• Red Witch
• Offline

Helping other people sometimes demands so much from us too. For a long time my mother was a volunteer with victims of domestic violence and others like teenage mothers and families like Tina’s, barely living on welfare. She often got depressed with the stories she heard. It was very important for me that she shared those stories and I sometimes went with her to help too. When we got home, to our cosy warm world, we sometimes doubted about reality, which side was real? Unfortunately, both were, theirs being the one that should never exist. Have a nice evening, hugs.

Tuesday April 17, 2007 – 06:47pm (BST) Remove Comment

• Sans
• Offline

Thank you, Lina! Yes, I know what you are saying. I would come home from work for years and couldn’t talk for an hour. I needed the time to decompress. I often feel guilty for being so “rich;” having the basics and then some. YOU have the nice evening, I’m younger than you by several hours!!I am having a nice afternoon 😉

Tuesday April 17, 2007 – 02:05pm (EDT) Remove Comment

• Nicholas
• Offline

It is unfortunate that life in the richest country of the world is not more equitable for all its people. The gulf between rich and poor seems to be widening as the middle classes shrink, in similar Western societies. We have the smae problem here in Australia. Tina is only one of many people that are being marginalised by economic and social policies that are short-sighted and designed to benefit the rich who are putting these governments in power. Your poem is touching and sympathetic, full of humanity.

Wednesday April 18, 2007 – 08:53am (EST) Remove Comment

• SansSouci
• Offline

Thank you, Nicholas V. There’s plenty more where that came from! I very much appreciate your stopping by and taking the time to read.

Tuesday April 17, 2007 – 07:45pm (EDT) Remove Comment

• Treesparrow
• Offline

Wow thats a powerful commentry.. I love the repeating line..Not sure how many men I’ve been with,Don’t know how many men I’ve known…. speaks volumes.. and the fact that she had 6 kids to make her own ‘family’… and her own ‘love’. We have many families/single mums over her.. probably speaking the same words.. In fact having a baby.. but some young teenagers in desperate situations is percieved as the only way they can give and recieve love they so so need. And then the ‘work’ situation.. how as a single mum of six can you really be expected to work? What little you earn goes on childcare.. and what the children probably need… is your care. Vicious, sad cycle… I just wish I had some magic wand to give them some hope and freedom back.

Friday August 17, 2007 – 11:43am (BST) Remove Comment

• sugarinthesunshine
• Offline

That is a painful story. Tina, love starved, is producing more little starving Tinas. It’s too painful.

Monday August 20, 2007 – 10:21pm (CDT) Remove Comment

• dangerous
• Offline IM

This is a terrible story – these poor poor people. it’s just not good enough

Tuesday August 28, 2007 – 08:44pm (EST) Remove Comment

reply ubiety wrote on Sep 25, ’08 Popped over from Wes’ blog. This poem/story is the other side of the mirror of our society.  Unfortunately too many people will still blame the Tina’s of the world. I wonder what they would do in her place.

reply vickiecollins wrote on Oct 14, ’08 I would say Tina is anything but free…I wonder how any of those who critize people like Tina would do if they had the same opportunites, or rather lack of them, that Tina has Good poem…story.

reply pestep55 wrote on Oct 14, ’08, edited on Oct 14, ’08 Very sad story that is all to true and common with slight variations.

editdeletereply lauritasita wrote on Oct 14, ’08 A very heartbreaking poem. It makes me feel thankful for what I have. Thanks for sharing it.

reply forgetmenot525 wrote on Oct 14, ’08 This is really good, it makes me realise  my concept of poverty is not the same as yours. I think of poverty as something that happens in developing countries, not in the west. We have poverty here, like you I see it in the school where I work, but I don’t think we have poverty like that……………maybe we do and I don’t know about it, that is a sad thought. thanks for registering, Mine is not at all like this…………..here it is http://forgetmenot525.multiply.com/journal/item/183/Blog_Action_Day_Poverty_

reply sweetpotatoqueen wrote on Oct 15, ’08 Yes..this is what poverty is about! The legacy that is handed down to innocent children from those who simply give them birth but can’t give children a decent life.I’ve seen this also in the inner city of Atlanta…people simply surviving without a hope of breaking the cycle. It is hearbreaking! There are many Tinas in this country…victims of poverty that makes them do desperate things simply to survive. Very powerful work here,my friend!

reply vickiecollins wrote on Oct 15, ’08 I commented before on this, but now I have written my own blog about this issue as well…not poetry just a look at the situation from a spiritual/psychological prespective.  As long as we can see the poor as other than…THOSE people over there and fail to remember that they are human beings just like ourselves, we are never going to make any headway on this issue. http://vickiecollins.multiply.com/journal/item/502/Blog_Action_Day_The_Spirit_of_Poverty

reply eccentricmare wrote on Oct 15, ’08 I like this, it challenges perceptions on poverty. Ace post!

reply col1967 wrote on Oct 15, ’08 Very well written piece on a topic that shouldn’t need discussing because it shouldn’t be happening in this day.

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 15, ’08 Thank you, Sweetie!

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 15, ’08 Thanks, Vickie!

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 15, ’08 I’m glad you came to read, Pat.

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 15, ’08 We don’t know how lucky we are, sis. We are rich! Love you xoxo

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 15, ’08 I am so glad you started this awareness, Loretta. Poverty is poverty. It’s all over, and the richest countries seem blind to it.

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 15, ’08 Thanks, dear Kaz.

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 15, ’08 Thanks, Col! I agree. Shouldn’t be happening but it is.

reply djdx wrote on Oct 16, ’08 Thank you for what you have done to help others.  The suffering is hard to bear.

reply forgetmenot525 wrote on Oct 16, ’08 sweetpotatoqueen said The legacy that is handed down to innocent children from those who simply give them birth but can’t give children a decent life There is so much truth here but how sad is it that these people are unable to give their children a decent life, we should ALL  have the freedom to have children to love and cherish  AND have the emotional, spiritual and material wealth to provide those loved children with good lives. And I mean the world over, the saddest thing is that there is more than enough of every thing in this world for every one to have what they need. Our biggest problem seems to be in distributing the worlds resources fairly among the many peoples of the world.

reply bostonsdandd wrote on Oct 16, ’08 I have chill bumps. I thought I had read this before. I guess I didn’t since I didn’t comment LOL. VERY interesting take on the subject. You told it with heart and made us really SEE this woman. NICELY done!

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 16, ’08 bostonsdandd said I have chill bumps. I thought I had read this before. I guess I didn’t since I didn’t comment LOL. VERY interesting take on the subject. You told it with heart and made us really SEE this woman. NICELY done! I’m glad you could see her, believe me, she’s real. Thanks, Lori. I often wonder how she is and how the kids are faring.

reply ppiccola wrote on Oct 16, ’08 amazing how misery brings more misery sometimes…such sad story……i cant believe I almost missed reading it, somehow I didnt open the link when I visit your linked blog.  Do you mind sign me an autograph, because when people discover all what you do, and all and each hidden humbled gifts and talents you possess, the whole world will want one and I want to brag about having already one!!! I am your fan!

reply skeezicks1957 wrote on Oct 17, ’08 Imagine the talent and gifts that those six children can give the world if fed and educated.  They may be artists,  doctors,  scientists or a future president.

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 17, ’08 ppiccola said amazing how misery brings more misery sometimes…such sad story……i cant believe I almost missed reading it, somehow I didnt open the link when I visit your linked blog.  Do you mind sign me an autograph, because when people discover all what you do, and all and each hidden humbled gifts and talents you possess, the whole world will want one and I want to brag about having already one!!! I am your fan! Piccola you are something else–you made my day!! Something will be coming out within a few months and a signed copy will be yours. Thank you, Piccie

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 17, ’08 Yes, imagine. They were the sweetest kids. Were. I can’t vouch for that now, they’ve gone off to higher grades. I think they’ve mastered the art of manipulation–like their mom. “Tina” never had adequate mothering. She is the biggest loss. SHE had talents and possibilities that will probably never be realized. She’s from a culture I will never fully understand–the poverty cycle, but I’ve learned that I am so privileged, so wealthy. I hope those kids make it. I truly do. They are probably now in Middle school and High School. Miss “Tina” is home with a baby who will soo be entering the school I left. And so it goes.

reply ppiccola wrote on Oct 17, ’08 sanssouciblogs said Piccola you are something else–you made my day!! Something will be coming out within a few months and a signed copy will be yours. Thank you, Piccie THANKYOU!!…Im glad it made you smile…but I never say anything that I dont truly mean…what I say doesnt come from my mouth but from the deepest layer in my heart. I feel that way…and you are so lovelly!!

reply vghozlan wrote on Oct 18, ’08 I am intimately familiar with poverty…this poem was so painful that it made me weep. One of my co-employees at SSA, ho is also going through tough times, said to me, “this country is not kind”. We were commiserating on our financial woes and illnesses, that may have us go out on sick leave. I sent her this blog and she has just called me..here we ere to 50 somethings, weeping on the phone…

reply sanssouciblogs wrote on Oct 18, ’08 I am honored that this moved you, and moved by your honor, Vee.

reply tulipsinspring wrote on Oct 30, ’08 Before I came here, I did an internship in one of my city’s poorest neighborhoods. I saw so many stories like that. What struck me was how desperate people were to survive from one day to the next, and stories like this one, where teenaged girls would have babies to have somebody to love them. I’d have people tell me they had problems with rats crawling into their babies’ cribs and biting the children. Roaches in everything. That level of poverty and desperation in the richest nation on earth is unforgivable. And the heartlessness of so many in the bureaucracy made my blood run cold. I’m so glad this woman met people like you, who really cared, and who really helped. And this poem is devastating and beautiful. Another of your moments of genius my friend. I hope she is doing better now, but as one of the other people said, it’s such a cycle. Thanks so much for posting this Sue.