How I survived on less than $100 a month
This week, The CJN opens an investigation into poverty in the Jewish community. In coming weeks, we will explore how poverty affects Jews, hear from those who have experienced poverty first-hand and learn about innovative solutions to the poverty crisis.
Most kids don’t move out of their home at 15 years old. But, this was my reality.
From that point in my life, my only income was student welfare. The amount I received was only enough to afford rent in grimy basement apartments infested with ants and cockroaches. It was in one of those dark basements that I was severely assaulted when I was 18.
The trauma resulted in post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) that prevented me from remaining in basements for long periods of time – yet another barrier to finding affordable housing.
I turned to drugs and alcohol. My life was a chaotic mess of overdoses, assaults, stitches and abusive relationships, one of which culminated in a murder attempt. During this dark period, I felt like a walking zombie – like my life had no value. I had zero self-esteem and did not believe that I deserved the help of others.
The only thing I had to look forward to was completing my psychology degree at York University. Working towards a goal made me feel that I was doing something that mattered.
Without a penny from my parents, I struggled financially to the point of eating only what was available at the student food bank and stretching basic necessities. I made toiletries and hygiene products last up to five times their recommended use.
My situation of poverty, past trauma, countless survival challenges and complete isolation from any parental, social or community support, found me living at Jane and Finch, a notorious Toronto neighbourhood, in a narrow, closet-like “bedsitter” with a tiny window for many years, further damaging my mental health.
The room I was living in included the blood-soaked carpeting that was a constant reminder of my last abusive relationship. I was sleeping on a blood and urine-stained mattress, which I remember believing with concrete certainty would become my own deathbed.
I was surviving on less than $100 a month.
Just as I was seriously contemplating suicide, a friend told me about help available in the Jewish community.
I will never forget the day I was given a brand new mattress and some spending money. I remember the movers who helped move me out of my apartment and their uncontrollable gagging from the odour. Looking back, it’s hard to believe that that’s where I slept for so long.
Silly as it may seem, this new mattress marked a pivotal point in my life. I felt hope, support and the opportunity for renewal. For the first time in my life, I did not feel alone. The support of the Jewish community gave me a sense of belonging that I lacked and had searched for my entire life.
Today, I can afford to live in a safe community because I receive a monthly rent supplement from the Kehilla Rental Assistance Program. When you are poor, this monthly assistance can be life-saving. It minimized my depression, anxiety and PTSD symptoms. The stability also enabled me to return to university and pursue a master’s degree where I am currently in my second year and maintaining an A-average.
My program has a practicum component, and I use this as my opportunity to give back to the Jewish community that saved me and provided me with the opportunity to function at my full potential. The anonymous donors that saved my life through JF&CS and the Kehilla Residential Program are the foundation of everything it means to be spiritual and united as a Jewish community which I now refer to as my “family.”
I am now volunteering as a life coach within the Jewish community. It is here that I try to pass on the mitzvahs that I received to others who are still struggling.
I tell clients to accept unchangeable circumstances and make the best out of the cards they are dealt in life. I was not dealt a very good hand. The Jewish community provided me with the aces, jokers and wild cards I needed to transform myself from a homeless teenager into a productive member of society.
Ilana Goldman (not her real name), immigrated to Canada with her family from Israel when she was seven. Today she volunteers as a life coach within the Jewish community to help those at risk. She is a strong advocate for connecting people struggling in similar circumstances to Jewish agencies that can provide help. She can be contacted at [email protected].
