My mom was a single parent to myself and my younger sister in New Orleans. Throughout my childhood, my mom worked between three and four jobs at a time to provide for our family. She worked for an insurance company, a jeweler, and a hotel. Despite her long hours at work, we were always poor. I remember mom telling us to only use our asthma pumps if our lips were going blue because she couldn't afford to keep buying new ones.
In the late 70s, New Orleans teachers went on strike. My mom was petrified how our education would be impacted by the strike, so she asked the local Catholic school if my sister and I could attend at a reduced rate. They worked out a deal that my mom would only have to pay for one child's tuition and the other could attend for free, with the nuns providing us with our uniform and free meals.
Paying for school meant my mom had to work even longer hours. We often didn't see her. She'd work late into the night and leave early in the morning. Even still, we often didn't have money for groceries. Our electricity and water were cut off at points. I effectively was my sister's carer, making sure we both got home safely after school, did our homework, ate, and got ready for school the next day.
Anytime there was a school field trip or special event, I didn't even bother to ask my mom. I knew we couldn't afford it.
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