Finding Momentum

"Drew, they denied me Social Security for the second time," Mike told me the last time I saw him over finals week at the Asian Ghetto. He's holding a new cardboard sign with a hand-scrawled "GOOD LUCK ON FINALS" in Sharpie. "But that's okay, me and my lawyer, we'll appeal. That third time, that's when they'll let me in."

Mike's been applying for Social Security disability payments, but he keeps getting rejected because, according to the rejection letters, he's still in signs of good health. Mike would disagree. "My heart, Drew, my heart keep giving me pains."

True, he does look pretty able-bodied still, actively moving about the sidewalks and keeping in good spirits. "Why don't you get a job, Mike?"

A group of students walk out of the Ghetto; one peels away and fumbles with his wallet, finally dropping a dollar bill into Mike's cup. "Thank you, and good luck on finals," Mike calls out after him. The student smiles.

Mike turns back. "I try," he tells me, "but I can't do no heavy lifting. My last job with my brother-in-law, I had to lift and I keep getting chest pains. So I gotta apply for Social Security."

"Why don't you try to apply for a clerical position? Or some sort of easy job as a sales clerk or something?" I suggest. I don't know why, but it seems like a dumb question.

He just shrugs. "They don't hire me." And I know why; it's because he's had a history of heart problems. Nobody wants an employee with medical liabilities.

But his shrugging frustrates me. Is that it? Should you just give up, Mike? Why don't you keep trying?

A man tosses change into the cup while briskly walking by. "Good luck on finals," Mike calls out after him without really looking. The man turns around, and Mike does a double-take--it's a friend of his (obviously in middle age). "You don't have finals," Mike tells him, and they laugh it up a little.

Mike comes out to the Ghetto and makes consistent money shaking the cup. It's easier than searching for a job and getting rejected. I wonder if applying for Social Security disability is his way of avoiding the job search. Something about that doesn't sit right with me.

"But they'll give me Social Security disability the third time around," Mike turns and looks at me with a hopeful grin. "My lawyer tells me that's how it works."

I decide to let this drop for now. We clasp hands and say a prayer. Then I have to go study and we say goodbye.

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