Why is it that when you don’t have enough money, everything gets more expensive?
Late on a bill? Add a fine.
Can’t afford rent? Risk eviction, jail, or hospitalization.
Homeless? Brace yourself for stigma, surveillance, and criminalization.
Not every late payment is neglect. Not every person without housing is mentally ill or addicted. I know this because I lived it. My child and I were homeless for four and a half years. I was working. I was sober. I was doing everything I could to survive. And still, we had nowhere to live.
We mostly couchsurfed. We spent time in homeless parks. We navigated systems that treated our poverty like a personal failure. I only escaped homelessness by moving to a place with better chances — not because I suddenly became more worthy, but because the odds shifted.
That was my crime: I didn’t make enough money.
We talk about justice, but we fine people for being poor. We talk about compassion, but we jail people for sleeping outside. We talk about opportunity, but we punish those who can’t afford to wait for it.
This isn’t just policy — it’s cruelty. It’s a system that demands perfection from the poor and offers punishment instead of support. It’s a culture that confuses poverty with laziness and treats survival as a moral flaw.
But poverty is not a crime. It’s a condition created by economic systems, perpetuated by political choices, and worsened by public indifference.
I’m not asking for pity. I’m asking for truth. I’m asking for policies that recognize the cost of survival. I’m asking for communities that see the working poor not as burdens, but as neighbors. I’m asking for a world where dignity isn’t reserved for the wealthy.
Because I was clean. I was working. I was parenting. And I was homeless.
And if that doesn’t make you question the system, it should.
Call to Action:
If we want to live in a just community, we must stop punishing people for being poor.
Local leaders: Invest in affordable housing, not fines and jail cells.
Churches: Open your doors not just on Sunday, but when someone needs a place to sleep.
Neighbors: Stop asking, “Why didn’t they try harder?” and start asking, “What barriers are keeping them out?”
Poverty is not a moral failure. It’s a policy failure.
And dignity should never depend on a paycheck.
Let’s build systems that honor survival, not penalize it.
Let’s make Watonga — and every town like it — a place where no one has to choose between working and shelter.
Let’s tell the truth, and then let’s act like it matters.
Sharon Cochran pastors Watonga-Canton-Fay United Methodist Churches.