"What do poor people do?"

Earlier this year when the Boy was in the middle of his mental health crisis, we would throw money at the problem to support him. He needs to get outside for exercise and a sense of accomplishment? Buy him a ski pass and new skis. No snow? Get hime a mountain bike, plus we needed a new all-wheel drive to schlep the bike around after the first SUV was in a crash. He wants to practice jumps for skiing? We got him a trampoline for the back yard. None of this stuff was over-the-top luxury stuff. This was sporting equipment and passes so he could get exercise which would elevate his mood. And he used one of the three--ski equipment, mountain bike, and trampoline--practically every day for a while there. Nothing was gathering dust.

One morning as I was letting the dog out to pee in the backyard, I saw the trampoline and wondered, "What strategy would I take to get the Boy help if we had far fewer resources?" Or, "What would I do if I were poor?" When I told my dad what I was thinking, he blanched as he was embarrassed by what appeared to be my arrogant attitude. But that wasn't the point: was I missing an obvious or easy strategy that other people used who didn't have money, but perhaps found effective? Was it possible the Boy had affluenza, where he got everything he needed handed to him on a platter without having to work for it? Did he need to get a job to get a sense of what the real world is like? Did we need to force him to do some manual labor around the house--maybe have him build a new deck in the backyard--to break him out of his spell?

Last night at the end of the political fundraiser, I was discussing how expensive Wilderness therapy was, and how we were using money we had set aside for the Boy's college to pay for this. "We are really lucky we can pay for this," I said. Again, the question arose, "What do poor people do?" I was serious, and my friends were equally serious in the their replies.

"They encounter the criminal justice system," said one friend. She was right. Rage, anger and violence are signs of depression in male teens. Sounds like a one way trip to juvie, if you ask me.

"They don't get out of bed for five years," said the hostess, whose previous life work was helping settle refugees. She told me of an immigrant family's daughter who got stuck in bed in high school, never graduated and was still in bed years later. I can't imagine.

"They rely on their community, whether it is their family or whatever," said another friend who was born in India but raised in the U.S.. "I grew up calling a dozen people 'Auntie' who were not actually my aunt. Whenever I see a homeless person, I wonder 'Where are their people? Where is their community?' I have crazy people in my family, but my family takes care of them." I think of another family I know where the adult daughter and her husband live with her parents. The son-in-law doesn't come out of his room except for Christmas and New Year's, and the daughter stays home to raise the kids. Between the two of them, they held one part-time job. Yet, they were not homeless or stuck in the tangled web of bureaucracy for mental health support. The in-laws took care of everything.

One major disadvantage we have--like many other people we know in Northeast Seattle--is that we do not have our extended family nearby for support. People move out here from great job opportunities and very often the extended family stays wherever they came from. Jack, the Boy and I live out here more or less by ourselves. Jack's cousin lives nearby, but she has four kids so she is busy. Would the Boy have been better off if he had family here, like grandparents and aunts and uncles?