Poverty and Child Development
When I was young my family survived on my Grandmother’s
senior citizen’s rations that she received from the local church. My father was suffering from PTSD and was
addicted to tranquilizers. My mother was
scared to leave and go work because of my father’s irratic and unpredictable behavior. She would watch neighborhood children, but
everyone knew what was going on with my father so many did not want their
children around us. Even though we never
really had much sweets, I never really
felt poor. I was taught from a very
early age about not wasting food and taking care of my clothes and shoes. I never really knew why except that I should
take care of my things. I do remember
being sad because my friends would get to go out for the community sports and
take piano lessons and I couldn’t. I
also remember that my clothes were usually too big for me because they were
hand me downs from my sister. I was
constantly tripping over my feet because my shoes were two sizes too
large. I never felt bad though because
of my clothes and shoes because my mom always emphasized making the person on
the inside beautiful and not worry about the outwardly appearance. As I grew I can remember having the school
provide paper for me to make my flashcards and doing it at school because they
knew we did not have extra paper laying around.
I was academically at the same level as my peers, but physically I was
behind. This could be because of the
lack of nutrition during my younger years causing a physical delay (Berger,
2009) or it could simply be due to physical family traits.
As I have grown, my father received help for his PTSD and
his addiction. He also got a good public
service job that had insurance. Once my
father got on track and my brother, sister and I were in school, my mom got a
job to help pay bills as well. Life got
better, meals were complete with a nutritious value, I got shoes that fit for
the first time. Every time I got a
chance to dog sit, babysit, or earn any kind of money, I did and spend it on my
own deodorant, clothes, etc. I felt it
my duty at age 12 to pay for my stuff if I could. So poverty may have delayed my physical
development, but it actually made me a very responsible person.
When I met my husband, he had a similar story from when he
grew up in the Philippines, but also stories of chaos from the soldiers and
gorilla troops fighting around their houses.
His parents, who came to the US to become doctors and make money, go
back to the Philippines and provide free clinics for their town they came
from. They are trying to help, even if it’s
a small part, where and when they can to reduce the stress on the peoples in
that region. The children are given
immunizations, medicines, milk, food, toys, clothes all in these free
clinics. The region itself is still
covered in poverty, but UNICEF and PIDS are realizing just how much the
children in this region are suffering (http://reliefweb.int/report/philippines/philippines-children-suffer-multiple-dimensions-poverty-study).
References:
Berger, K. S. (2009). The developing person through childhood (5th ed.). New York, NY: Worth
Publishers.
http://reliefweb.int/report/philippines/philippines-children-suffer-multiple-dimensions-poverty-study