For victims of domestic abuse, recession stress can increase the danger they face at home. At the same time, financial hardship makes it more difficult to leave. It's the kind of dilemma Cathy N lives every day.
"I would love to get a divorce and move on with my life. If I knew I could walk into that courthouse and walk out with my house and my kids--and without my husband--I would do it. But the thought scares me because I could lose more than I would gain. The financial part--trying to make it on my own--it's impossible," Cathy tells me as we're sitting in the office of one of her allies at Family and Children's Services of Central Maryland.
Driving the back roads near Dover, Delaware, I contemplate how to make my approach. In the six months I've spent traversing the nation, it has been rare to encounter reticence--no matter how abruptly my notebook and probing questions accost a person's normal routine. Given the insular reputation of the Amish, however, I'm nervous they won't respond as favorably. Thankfully, my naive assumptions prove incorrect.
Wandering through the chilly streets of South Philly in search of a good story, I approach a small group of elderly gentleman talking on a street corner. After I finish my pitch, they look at each other silently, communicating through raised eyebrows and subtle shrugs. Finally, one speaks: "You should talk to his daughter. She got laid off. Now she's--how should I put this--a provider of erotic services."
"I wear this T-shirt because his superpower was will power," James Tartamella tells me, pointing to the Green Lantern symbol on his chest. "The greatest green energy is the green energy within us." James and his brother Joe each suffered a direct hit from the recession, but are rapidly adapting to seize opportunities created by the swelling wave of green jobs.
Discretionary spending has declined dramatically while the price of consumer goods has risen. This simple recessionary formula struck a hard blow to manufacturing across the country. But in rural New Jersey, one vile product has enjoyed a surge in demand and a steep drop in retail price.
"Heroin has become quite prolific here in the past two years," says Capt. Andy Russo of the West Milford Police Department.
I woke up cussing this morning. A heated verbal altercation with an ignorant coot in the parking lot of a Waterbury, Connecticut, dive bar last night gave me unsettled sleep, as our argument over health care policy rattled on in my head throughout the night.
Douglas Edward Coates is polite, soft spoken, and articulate. He looks like a typical 29-year-old professional in his black wool coat and wire-rimmed glasses, his sandy hair and goatee neatly cropped. If I'd met him under any other circumstances, I could not have guessed that he'd been living in a homeless shelter for three months.
George speaks with slow deliberation, drawing out words in a manner that recalls an audio player in need of fresh batteries. He worries that stepping into the bathroom for a moment would be enough distraction to erase his memory of our meeting. George, 51, has required assistance to help him lead a productive and fulfilling life since being hit by a car at age 13. Learning new skills requires his concentrated effort, but George easily assumed the mantle of protester when state budget cuts threatened the mental health programs critical to his livelihood.
Throughout the Recession Roadtrip, people I've spoken to regularly cite the increase of panhandlers as a prominently visible representation of these economic times. Many have also expressed suspicion that those begging for money aren't as desperate as their appearance and hand-lettered signs might suggest. I decide to ask an admitted longtime panhandler how the recession has affected his "profession."
Rejoining the professional work force after years of full-time parenting can present a challenge under even ideal circumstances. Because the recession has demolished careers of so many primary breadwinners, stay-at-home moms like Melissa Hinebauch are not making that transition by choice, but compelled by the dismal reality wrought by their spouse's ongoing unemployment, most particularly the high cost of private health insurance. Read More
Christina Davidson is a writer, photographer and book editor based in Washington, DC. She specializes in editing books about national security, terrorism, and war, but writes on a broad array of topics, including the popular frugalicious foodie blog www.feedthemasses.org. She is working on a book based on the Recession Road Trip.