Transitional Assistance

I had never been to a Department of Transitional Assistance (DTA) office and was not sure what to expect. To begin this adventure I realized I would have to find an office and get some basic information like a phone number and directions. I first called 411 for information and assumed the role of someone who does not know where the DTA office was or how to get there. I first spoke to an automated system and it did not recognize my request, so I was put through to a live operator. I asked the operator for the phone number to the welfare office, she asked the location of the office, I said, "I do not know", she then gave me a list of cities to choose from, I chose the number of the Lawrence DTA office. I called the office, a woman answered the phone and I asked her for the address of the office. She gave it to me along with directions and hours of operation, 9am-5pm. I then asked if there was public transportation available. The women I spoke to gave me the bus stop location and then gave me directions, by foot, from the bus stop to the office. I asked how far of a walk and she replied, "approximately a block away from the bus stop." So far, this is a good experience, I received the information I needed and it was given to me in a calm and pleasant voice. I now know where the office is, their hours of operation and how to get there by car or bus.

I chose to drive to the DTA office. I identified the office by a hanging sign, it was on the first floor of an old mill building. I found free parking exactly where the receptionist told me it would be located. I parked and walked to the front door where there were middle aged men smoking cigarettes. I held the door open for two Hispanic men. The older had a cane and was being accompanied by the younger man, about twenty-eight years old, who looked like the man's son. I walked through another door, then down a corridor to the end of a line of people. The line started at the reception desk. I was standing in line and was about five customers away from the window and asked myself, what I am sure many before me have asked, "I wonder if I am eligible for services." At the front of the line there was a sign in English and in Spanish that stated, please wait to be seated. I waited in line for about five minutes to get a screening sheet from one of the three receptionists. I then took a seat in one of the forty black plastic chairs. It was not until I sat down wrote in my book and began to watch, that I started feeling uncomfortable and out of place. I noticed that some people seemed curious by my presence. Two of the receptionists were bilingual. I did not fill out the screening sheet, but it seemed simple. Once the sheet is completed it gets handed into the "screener" who determines eligibility. Eligibility is determined right away. Once you are determined eligible for services, you wait to meet with a DTA worker to speak about suitable services. When the initial process is complete you are suppose to hear from a DTA worker within thirty days. After seeing the receptionist people sat and waited for their name to be called by a DTA worker. On the side of the reception window, there was a separate window labeled EBT, which is short for Electronic Benefit Transfer. I spoke with the women at the window and asked her what EBT was. She responded by stating "it is a debit account that food stamp benefits and cash assistance benefits are held, and these funds are accessed by a plastic debit card." She then explained that people can receive Food Stamps within thirty days, but if it is an emergency, they can be accessed within seven days. If someone needed food, that instant, they would get a list of local food pantries.

The people I observed in the waiting room were mostly Hispanic, some Caucasian and one Asian family. There were thirty adults and about 14 children, most of which were under the age of eight. I then realized that the majority of the people were women with their children. I wondered if their partners or fathers were working, looking for work, sleeping, or just not involved.

Some people waited more patiently than others to be called by a DTA worker. Most clients had papers in their hands, I assume with personal information about their lives: where they work or not, how much they get paid, current or past services, medical history, etc. People's demeanor appeared different, some were talking, and some smiling, but most were just sitting neutral and waiting. One woman was angry about waiting, and was letting everyone know about it. Once she was finished I heard her say, "thank you very much" in a genuine way. I was surprised by her remark but sensed her relief. I observed other people, not waiting in line, but just walking in through the front doors, past the line and to a phone stationed on the wall with a list of DTA workers names and extensions beside it. Apparently these people had workers assigned to them already. When a DTA worker came out from behind a locked door, he or she would call a name and that person/s would follow their worker to the other side, behind the door. Some waited longer than others, but the average time was ten to fifteen minutes. Out of all the workers I observed, there were four Caucasians, one of which was disabled, one middle aged man, two middle aged women and there was one Hispanic man in his thirties. The workers did not seem bothered by the number of people waiting and were mostly pleasant. I observed some workers coming out into the lobby to greet, and other workers would crack open the door and just yell a name. Some of them smiled and said hello when greeting the next applicant.

It had been about fifteen minutes when I spotted the two Hispanic men that came in before me, the older man with the cane just moved to the only padded chair in the room, I felt happy for him. I saw a younger Hispanic mother trying to fill out her application while her four-year old daughter relentlessly pulled at her sleeve. She kept her daughter calm and handled the situation in a loving way. She picked up her daughter and held her while trying to fill out the paperwork. The man with the cane and his son had been called in by a female Caucasian worker, their wait time was approximately twenty minutes. I began thinking how that might feel for them, meeting with a Caucasian woman, someone not of their heritage or culture. Although I do not believe she would do a poor job, I wondered if the office tried to match clients up with workers of the same culture, or if it is like taking a number at the meat counter, "next". I believe this office is culturally sensitive and if they could match like clients up they would. I believe the people working with the community should reflect the people in the community and at