A Couple’s Rocky Road to Welfare Reform

It was to be his first day in a training program that might lead to a decent job, but after three hours of wandering lost amid the unfamiliar streets of South Los Angeles on bus and foot, David Marquez gave up and headed home to Long Beach.

It would be a temporary setback and he would get better directions the next day, he said. But his normally cheerful voice held a tinge of frustration:

“Man, I want to do it,” Marquez said of the government-funded apprenticeship program that places its graduates in sought-after union jobs. “They said you could start out at $10, $12 an hour. With that kind of money I wouldn’t need to worry; we could get by.”

Marquez, 19, who owes $1,000 in bills that seem like an insurmountable mountain, is living on welfare with his wife, Veronica, who is barely 18, and their two children.

In the year Marquez and his family have received government assistance, they have been buffeted by retrenchments spawned by the massive federal welfare law signed in August 1996: Their welfare grant was cut by $27 a month, and their elder son, David Jr., 2, lost eligibility for free milk, cheese and other nutritional assistance provided by the Women, Infants and Children program.

The couple, along with the 46,000 other two-parent households on welfare in Los Angeles County, also face looming deadlines. Under the new welfare law, Marquez and his wife--either individually or in combination--must be engaged by Jan. 1 in 35 hours of work or job training each week to continue receiving some sort of aid.

Her caseworker wants Veronica to enter the Cal-Learn program, designed to provide schooling for teenagers with no high school diploma. Under California’s newly enacted welfare plan, the program is required for youths younger than 19 who are on welfare.

Veronica says she would prefer to find a job, even though she understands working could mean added expenses for child care for David and Michael, 1. The state law boosts funding for child care and the Marquez family may provide a test of its efficacy. The short-term pressure for money, Veronica said, outweighs the long-term achievement of getting a diploma.

If the couple faces a plethora of challenges, they and others like them present an equally daunting prospect to state officials. The federal welfare law mandates that 75% of families with two parents in the home be involved in work activities by Oct. 1--this Wednesday.

It will be the first major test of California’s ability to meet a deadline imposed by the federal welfare overhaul, and officials have already conceded defeat, admitting that there is no way they will meet the deadline for the 140,000 families statewide in the category.

To welfare officials, the young couple--eager to work and with no entrenched history of dependency--are principals on a critical battlefront: If the lofty goals of the welfare-to-work program are met, the family could be spared a lifetime of troubles and society might be spared the expense and effort of trying to repair their broken lives.

Rocky Experience in the Job Market

David Marquez is ticking off the disappointments in his short employment history: There was the job at the pest control company that lasted a month, the stint busing tables at a restaurant that ended after three weeks because business was slow, and the time he worked for Veronica’s father, a gardener, until business slowed there too and he had to be let go.

David and Veronica are sitting in the county Department of Public Social Services’ Rancho Dominguez welfare office one afternoon, waiting to talk to job counselor Frank Mora about David joining the apprenticeship program.

Both are enrolled in Greater Avenues for Independence, California’s principal job placement program for welfare recipients. Because of the federal mandate, Los Angeles County officials have placed a priority on finding work for clients in two-parent households.

Inside the large room, David Jr. and Michael are running amok with a joyous abandon that is interrupted every so often by a soft admonition from their parents.

David Jr., a dynamo who could be mistaken for 5 instead of 2, is the image of his father, with smoky eyes, short black hair and a bursting inquisitiveness. Michael favors his mother, with dark almond eyes, ruddy cheeks and still-visible baby fat.

“I think when I go look for work a lot of people judge me because of the way I look,” David is saying. He is wearing baggy jeans, a T-shirt and tennis shoes. He sports a buzz cut, mustache and goatee. He looks like what he is, an urban American teenager who would not be out of place hanging with the neighborhood homeboys.

He says he thinks that some people perceive in him an unintended menace.

“One time I went to a job interview and the lady was like, ‘You’re a gang member.’ I said no, I’m not. But she started criticizing me. When I go for job interviews, they say they have run out of applications when I can see a stack there. Once they see me work they have no problem with me because I’m a good worker.”

He dropped out of high school in the ninth grade and is acutely aware that his lack of education will probably hold him back. He tried to get a job with the Postal Service and believes he was turned away because of it, he says.

Later, after landing a job at a nursery, things indeed began to look brighter. David liked the work and was able to save enough money to move his family out of his father’s home.

But a year and a half later, the company downsized. David was let go and went on unemployment. By then, with one son and Veronica pregnant with Michael, finding a bed with struggling relatives was no longer an option.

Even during periods of employment the couple have remained among the working poor. At the nursery, he made only $4.25 an hour. “I had to save four checks just to pay the rent,” David says. “I get real nervous sometimes and can’t sleep. Bills here, bills there. Got to pay for shoes and clothes.”

Money for the Bare Essentials

The baby had a birthday recently but there were no presents to be opened from his parents. They only have money for essentials these days, Veronica says, as bangs and whizzes echo from a television cartoon show.

Their apartment is on the second floor of a converted clapboard home in an older section of Long Beach, near the water. A tiny front space splashed with light has been turned into the boys’ room with a crib, a twin bed, colorful spreads, posters and stuffed animals.

The small, tidy living room is decorated with an old-fashioned flower-covered couch and settee. Many of their furnishings were given to them by family members, the couple said, including the large, new television and a stereo. David and Veronica sleep on a Murphy bed that folds down from the wall.

They pay $475 a month in rent for the apartment, which they moved to recently after their monthly cash grant was reduced to $673 from $700. Food stamps worth $300 a month help stretch their budget, and they receive dairy products for Michael under the Women, Infants and Children program, designed to supplement the diets of needy children.

David Jr., who would normally be eligible for that aid until he is 5, was recently dropped from the federally subsidized program because of cutbacks. With its services overextended, priority is given to nursing mothers and infants, officials said.

Michael wears clothes handed down from his older brother, although the boys’ grandparents try to help out with items on birthdays and Christmas, the couple said.

They rarely have the money to go out for entertainment and, in any case, do not like to leave the children. Yet even a trip to the park can be painful, David said.

“I hate to see my kids looking at people--at what other people have that we can’t give them,” he said.

They economize on food whenever possible and never dine out.

“We’ll get the value packs in the grocery stores and use a lot of leftovers to stretch out the food,” Veronica said.

They pawned a gold chain given to Michael on his baptism as well as his little pinkie ring to help pay bills, but were disappointed to get only a few dollars for them.

The bills are a constant source of worry and about the only source of friction for the couple. There’s about $400 owed on old phone bills. The gas company is also due about $100. And David owes a substantial amount on an oil company credit card.

A few years ago, he accumulated $80 in tickets driving his mother’s car. When he couldn’t come up with the money, his own car--a 1984 Ford Escort for which he paid $500--was impounded. Now it’s either the bus or foot, frequently with the two children in tow, carried along in a oversize stroller.

“I heard that now we’re on time limits because of the new law, but the people who make the laws are not there to see me struggling,” David said. “I’ve been on a lot of buses.”

Much at Stake for Clients, Caseworkers

The ride to the Maxine Waters Employment Preparation Center in Watts takes two hours by bus. David has discovered that Metro Rail is much quicker, but says it will still be a chore to make it there by 8 a.m. for the duration of the 10-week course.

And there are other concerns.

“There are lot of gangs up there, more than here in Long Beach,” he says, looking sheepish. “You might worry that people will want to take your money. You don’t know which areas to stay out of.”

For David as well as his welfare caseworkers, much is riding on his success in the program, which provides construction training by Los Angeles Unified School District teachers.

The apprenticeship coordinator, Hank Springer, explains that he and others supervising the program have worked hard to make inroads for their graduates into Los Angeles’ hard-to-crack trade unions. County job developer Mora says that, likewise, his office has struggled to promote welfare clients as worthy candidates for the apprenticeship program itself.

If David, who already has some construction experience, passes the course, he is almost assured of a job that would remove his family from the welfare rolls. Everything now is up to him, David realizes.

But the family’s problems will not be easily resolved. A week after his abortive attempt to reach the training center, the family’s phone service was cut off. And David was still having trouble making his early morning classes.

“They are a young couple and in a way a little tougher for us to deal with,” Mora said after paying them a personal visit. “They’re more emotional and have some growing up to do. When you’re young and any little thing happens, it’s harder to put things back in place.”

The family’s latest crisis has moved Mora to reevaluate their needs. He has a contact at a department store near their home who might be able to provide an immediate part-time position for David during the evenings. Mora said he will also try to arrange to schedule David’s training classes for a later hour to make them easier to attend.

Despite their youth, David and Veronica Marquez are not without insight into the precarious life they have made for themselves and their children.

David speaks of their first meeting: she, a 13-year-old standing outside her junior high school, and he, at 15, walking by with some friends and being compelled to strike up a conversation. They started dating against the wishes of Veronica’s family. At one point, David admits, Veronica’s father had the law after him. He eventually won her family over, perpetuating a pattern established by their own parents, who also married and had children at young ages, David said.

“Both my mom and dad started out the way I did,” he said. “My mom would tell me: ‘Don’t start a family too young.’ But you never know how your life is going to turn out. Nobody knows.”

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

About This Series

As changes in the federal welfare system play out, The Times is taking an up-close look at how several families and individuals cope. The sweeping overhaul signed into law in August 1996 affects poor people, disabled children and legal immigrants who receive cash assistance, food stamps or health benefits.

The law abolishes entitlement to welfare under the Aid to Families With Dependent Children program and gives states new authority to devise their own assistance programs. Adults are required to get a job within two years, and the lifetime limit on benefits for most recipients is five years. Each state will decide on exemptions for physical disabilities or other problems that make recipients difficult to employ.

The new welfare law also tightens eligibility for the federal Supplemental Security Income program, which provides cas assistance to the elderly, blind and disabled. Manny legal immigrants and some disabled children have become ineligible for SSI coverage. Many immigrants have lost their food stamps, as have many single adults unable to find work.