Four years ago, I attempted to change my gender marker on my social security card to match my birth certificate. It was during the height of Covid, and I probably had the wrong address, because after a week or so of waiting for a reply, I got my same addressed envelope returned to me. I put off what I should have promptly done, but in the midst of gaining a new job, moving, and all of life stuff, I forgot about this little tiny area of my life.
With the recent events happening in this country, I decided that maybe it’s in my best interest to finally tie this bow and complete my legal transition. So I took a walk.
The local Social Security office is literally a ten minute walk from where I currently live. I’ve lived here since March of last year and I haven’t really stepped foot outside of my daily commute, of walking down a massive flight of concrete steps, crossing a major street, and hopping on board the Subway.
I followed my GPS directions one way, down the calm one-way street that slowly descends a massive hill in a winding way that lead me to a massively confusing traffic intersection where two major roads intersect with six lanes of traffic. I’m guessing this is what’s known as the scenic route? This walk was fairly direct, with very little interaction with the city-scape that I’m so close to living near.
I navigate my way into the Administration building. Mentally, I recorded that the Department of Transitional Assistance (food stamps) is next door, as is Mass Hire (job searching resources) in the same building. I took the elevator up to the third floor, punched my SSN into the kiosk and waited about 45 minutes. The security officer who was there admitted to somebody else that it was only his second day on the job. And I have to admit, that my imagination was going crazy, imaging using his firearm upon myself. (Yeah, I’m still suffering, but getting better, albeit, slowly.) Anyway, after waiting for what seemed to be an eternity, my number was called, and the process was fairly simple. Because I had already filled out the form, all I needed to do was provide my current State ID. I brought all this paperwork for nothing. Eh, I’d rather be prepared than look stupid. Five minutes later, not only has my gender marker been updated, but my birth city was initially recorded incorrectly. So I was glad to get that corrected—if it’ll even matter when I’m finally ready to use any benefits that I’ve paid into the system.
On the way back, I took the actual scenic route, though downtown. And this is the path I’m mainly writing about. I live in Quincy (pronounced Quinn-zeeeeeeeee), and there are historically ancient buildings here, and lots of prominent statues of people like John Hancock and other memorials dedicated to the foundation of this Nation’s independence. The corner church, or whatever it is, Youth Hall? I’m not really sure, still has it’s flag flapping proudly in the gentle, sunny, Autumn breeze. There’s people just walking about, a tiny park with lots of benches to sit on and relax. I passed a Vietnamese restaurant, a Mexican bar, and Sushi joint all next door to one another. There is so much life here, all within footsteps of my home. Even a comic book store!
But I feel a pang of sadness, because I can’t participate in any of it. Why? Because I’m broke. Like really broke. My income only pays for the rent, and a public transit pass so I can get to work each month. My fiancee discovered today that no only has her SSI been reduced from the nearly $1,000 per month to $137, but in fact that they overpaid her! So now, starting next month, they’re going to be taking payments of $94 each month until the slightly over $5,200 is repaid. While I paid the rent, she paid for the electricity, phone, internet, and most of the additional food that food stamp money doesn’t cover. Let’s be honest, $250 a month barely covers one person’s single meals for a month, let alone two people eating more than once a day.
All this life right around the corner from where we live, and we simply can’t participate in it, because we’re uber poor. I don’t know what we’re going to do for the other bills. We need electricity, so I guess everything but the transit pass, electric to cook with and keeping the heat at 45°F this winter is all we’re going to be paying. Never mind the credit cards, the luxuries of internet, or even a phone. I’m hopeful that I’ll land a different, higher paying, desk job, but seeing that I don’t have a college degree, nor a driver’s license, things are really looking cold at the moment.
All in all, I’m really glad I took this walk. I needed to get out of the apartment. Out of my own head, to see people smiling and being care-free. People enjoying tasty food, kids riding their bikes in the town square, and commuters arriving off of the busses in the terminal. The warm rays of sunlight felt good on my face, but it wasn’t perfect. My toothache really doesn’t like the cold air. I’ve gotta try to hold out until January of next year when my new dental insurance kicks in. Let’s hope I don’t get mouth-rot by then.