Maryann had a full- and part-time job, but over the past few years, her rent climbed from $1,350 to $2,100. That may not sound like a lot, but if you are living from paycheck to paycheck on $18 an hour, it is impossible.
For the first two years of living in her apartment, Maryann was making good money as a bill collector for an oral surgeon’s practice. She didn’t have a problem when the rent increased. However, there was a lot of pressure at work and she developed an ulcer. Maryann left that job to get better, but that made her fall behind in rent.
Then COVID hit. She was working at the YMCA for 10 hours a week and picking up other full-time work, but nothing paid well enough for her to keep up with rent, groceries and utilities. To avoid being evicted, she paid her last month of rent and ended her lease. She owed an extra $1,000, so she gave up her deposit, and told her landlord that she and her cat Tucker could not afford to live there.
She searched for rooms to rent, but no one wanted Tucker. One place was OK with the cat, but the room was an old laundry room with one window for $1,500. She wished to find a room at a reasonable rate with a guarantee that the landlord wouldn’t raise the rent. She knew that would never happen.
Living in her car was the best solution. She could park at Market Basket, which was close to her full-time job, and save on paying for gas. The food pantry would cut back her food expenses, and she could shower at the Y. From February to July, she lived in her car. She used hand warmers to keep herself and Tucker warm.
“At Market Basket here were a few of us who settled in our cars after work and left early in the morning.” Maryann said. She kept to herself and parked under a tree away from the families struggling with drug abuse, who had moved broken-down campers there for good. They stayed there day and night selling drugs so they could afford to use them.
“It stays in the family,” Maryann said. “Once the kids get old enough, they can sell the drugs. Eventually, they get sucked into the cycle with their parents. The sad thing is, they make more money selling drugs than I do working two jobs.”
Maryann was empathetic because there were children living in the campers, so she went to the food pantry for them. She tried to help by telling them where they could get a shower, or help, but she didn’t make any headway. One day, a person asked her if he could use her phone. She agreed to have him meet her at her car. When he came sauntering up to her car smoking a pipe, she flipped out.
“Do you know what a cop would do if they saw you approach my car smoking that stuff? They would arrest me, too,” she said.
After she told him to leave, she knew things were getting dire.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Maryann said. “These people are not bad people. They are a strong community and they would bend over backwards to help you. They live horrible lives, but they would be the first ones to help you out of a bind. I just couldn’t handle being the den mother any more. Their lack of motivation to get clean and end the cycle of drug use keeps them stuck where they are.”
By the time summer rolled in, Maryann had a full-time job and the YMCA work on the side. Living in her car allowed her to save enough money to rent a motel room indefinitely.
“I was so close,” she said. “I was going to use my next paycheck to put money down on a hotel room.”
But then a woman at work saw Tucker in Maryann’s car. The woman told her boss and the ASPCA. Not only did Maryann lose her job, the ASPCA took Tucker.
Maryann finally had to ask for help. The people at the food pantry referred her to MATS. MATS paid to fix the brakes in her car so she could get to work. They gave her a place to stay and gas cards, and connected her with someone in the library to help her with her resume. She appreciates this. However, the stigma of being unhoused, of not being able to support herself on her own, is degrading.
She said, “The hardest thing was that even though I was living in my car, I am not one of them. I do not a misuse drugs, and I don’t have a mental illness. I make too much money to get help from the government, but not enough money to pay the rent.”
I asked Maryann what she thought people should take away from her story. She replied, “Don’t judge people. Don’t assume someone is a low-life just because they can’t afford rent.”
When you are a proud and independent woman who loses the roof over your head, shame takes residence in your psyche. Inside, you are screaming at the people looking down at you, “This is not who I am! Stop looking at me that way!” But you can’t say that, because who will believe you when you’re living in your car in the Market Basket parking lot as far away as you can from the people who aren’t working and are using drugs instead of digging their way out like you are?
Our conversation circled back to the boss who fired her after a coworker found out she was living in her car.
“He had a choice to make my life 100% better or 100% worse,” she said.
It’s too bad he chose the latter.
Elizabeth Goodhue serves on the board of the Monadnock Area Transitional Shelter (MATS), which provides transitional housing, support and referral services to people who are experiencing homelessness, to educate the community on issues of homelessness and to advocate for solutions.