I hit the jackpot. At 67 years old, with no steady job, in relatively good health, I’m an old and poor American with benefits. With all the talk of gutting Obama Care, the crumbling healthcare system and Medicare for all, my personal experience with being on the government teat has been stellar. I’ve been poor (on and off) most of my life, but only recently have been assigned the official “old” title. When I turned 62 I started receiving my meager monthly social security check. When I turned 65 I registered for Medicare. Noticing how little I made, the nice woman in the Medicare office asked why I wasn’t applying for Medicaid as well- poor people insurance? I told her I had resisted going on food stamps or government healthcare because I had some money in the bank and felt others needed it more. “It’s there for people like you.” she reminded me and walked me through the paper work. “It’s there for artists.” REALLY?
Having glaucoma, I’ve been paying out of pocket for expensive eye drops and doctors’ visits for decades. I never could afford health insurance, so, I crossed my fingers and went through life hoping nothing catastrophic happened; biding my time until turning 65. Then, soon after that birthday the “procedures” and “operations,” that would’ve gutted my bank account, began piling up. The U.S. government paid for it all. I was saved just in time.
Back in the 1980’s artists had a better time of it with government support. The National Endowment of Art was set up specifically to fund individual artists who had rejected the commodification of their art and resisted the marketplace. Conceptual and performance and fringe artists had a champion in Washington. Grants which ranged from $5000 to $25,000 were doled out, no strings attached. I got two $5k. Then there was a conservative, cultural backlash spearheaded by cracker politicians like Jesse Helms, in response to overtly sexualized work like Robert Mapplethorpe’s and my friend Karen Finley’s. Responding to political pressure, the NEA changed their policy, ultimately refusing to fund individual artists, now only offering money to 501(C-3) non-profits. The oddball individual artist was kicked to the curb.
A few church services back I symbolically renounced my U.S. citizenship by burning my passport in front of the CLGM congregation. If you google renouncing citizenship you will learn that it has to be done in a U.S. Embassy in a foreign land, can involve the loss of many rights and is irreversible. To actually renounce my citizenship has no interest to me. I am completely dependent of the government of the United States for my monthly check and healthcare. But this dependency does not preclude my right to protest government policies and a toxic presidency. I pay my taxes and feel all churches should do the same. The symbolic citizenship renunciation had little impact in the world at large (or even the neighborhood). We are all too comfortable (myself included) to take to the streets or care. Things are too good to revolt.
This is the way that politicians have stayed in power since 1776: give the masses just enough to keep them in line. I’m just healthy enough not to put a giant strain on the system; just poor and old enough to qualify for support and just smart enough not to rock the boat. Yeah, that was an old passport. I got a recent one in the drawer if i want to go somewhere. I don’t. I own my house, a church and a synagogue. As long as I pay my bills and taxes, nobody fucks with me. There are popular uprisings in Hong Kong, Lebanon, and Chile, and that’s just this week. Turkey has invaded Syria, as Trump throws the Kurds under the bus. Impeachment looms and there is much to protest. I KNOW MANY HAVE IT MUCH WORSE THAN I. I’d do more…..but I don’t want to lose my government benefits. I don't really have any right to complain. I live in paradise.
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