Emily Genco, People — November 11, 2012 at 2:27 am

Rising Above

Somebody to Lean On

It’s hard for Austin to imagine what life would be like without her brother Norman. In her world of uncertainty, he is a constant, always there to fix the car, provide shelter or lend money.

“I think my brother just knows that I work really hard, and I don’t like handouts. I don’t like taking them. I like to figure it out on my own,” Austin says.

Not everyone has a brother like Norman.

Erin Loveland works as the operations coordinator at the House of Mercy Homeless Shelter and testifies to the role families play in keeping relatives from homelessness. “In most of our homeless that we see here, it’s a matter of not having the family structure, not having the family ties that will keep you from being homeless.”

Loveland has seen a steady increase in the length of House of Mercy’s waiting list. In 2008, the list averaged 27. The projected value for this year is 93.

“We are swamped, and it’s not just us. It’s all of the agencies. All of the homeless shelters in at least the Rock-Walworth county area have no openings,” Loveland says. “We have waiting lists that seem to go on for months. It wasn’t like that in 2008 or even 2009 when the recession first started and was at its worst.”

Alicia and Kayden — Alicia plays with Kayden in the family’s living room. Micheal calls Alicia the family ‘house charmer.’ She carries incense through each room and helps cook dinners.
Photo by: Stephanie Wezelman

Looking Forward

In Wisconsin, 305,508 people receive cash public assistance or food stamps. As of last year, 44.4 percent of families with a female householder with no husband present and children under 18 lived below the poverty line in Adams County.

“Do people understand what a low self-esteem you get just by asking for a handout or what it actually feels like to go to social services and apply for something?” Austin asks. “I don’t think they know how hard it is, but when you do it, it kills you inside.”

This May, at 35, Micheal Austin will finish her bachelor’s degree. Austin imagines a time when she can provide more stability and a house for her family.

“We have more of a future because of the choices I made. I’m just ready for them to happen now,” Austin says. “I’m ready for those stages to begin because I feel like I’ve worked so hard for it.”

Austin looks forward, but some elements of her past in Brockton—including a diehard love of “The Pats”—endure.

On game days, Micheal Austin and her five kids pull on their New England Patriots jerseys. It’s tradition. The screen-printed numbers on some are still crisp, newly ordered to celebrate the team’s run at SuperBowl XLVI. Others have begun to crackle with wear, passed down through the family. Austin has taught her children loyalty.

There’s another lesson Austin is passing on to her kids: perseverance. The ambition to rise above her situation drives Austin to transcend the labels, the judging stares, to rise until others see the true Micheal Austin—the tireless worker, the student, the football fan—instead of a nearly forty-year-old stereotype of the “welfare mom.”