Cynthia Maclin cannot get out of bed most days.
Chronic lung disease leaves her short of breath and ended
her 45-year career as a medical administrator. COVID-19 cases are on the rise
in her hometown of Chicago, and Maclin has already lost eight friends and
family members to the virus, including the father of her two daughters. For the
first time, this month, she's also unable to pay rent.
So Maclin, 66, feels the crush of grief, loneliness,
depression and financial stress — but she hasn't been able to see her doctors.
"I have not seen my pulmonary doctor to listen to my
lungs, to check my oxygen levels," says Maclin. She hasn't seen her
psychiatrist, or her primary care doctor. "All these things have an
impact," she says, through labored breaths.
Maclin is just one among many in the U.S. facing a cascade
of economic and health-related problems revealed in a new survey by NPR, the
Robert Wood Johnson Foundation and Harvard's T.H. Chan School of Public Health.
The poll finds nearly half the households in America — 46% — report facing
serious financial pain during the pandemic. It is a problem that is more acute
in the four largest U.S. cities, and among Latino and Black households.
Hundreds of billions in government stimulus and other support did not make an
apparent dent in their struggles.
In addition, over half, or 54%, of those with household
incomes below $100,000 reported serious financial problems, compared with only
20% of those with incomes above that threshold.
In short, the results show the personal financial challenges
run deeper and broader than previously understood, says Robert Blendon,
professor emeritus of health policy and political analysis at Harvard and
co-author of the survey. "I would have expected that all the aid that was
coming from various sources would have narrowed, not eliminated, the differences
by race and ethnicity," but it did not, he says.
At the time of the survey, the federal government was
offering $600 a week in additional benefits for those collecting unemployment.
That was not renewed after July. That means things have likely gotten worse.
'Nothing ... to fall back on'
"It's going to get worse because there is nothing for
the people we surveyed ... to fall back on," Blendon says.
Depending on which city, anywhere from 50% to 80% of Latino
and Black households in New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago and Houston report
serious financial problems — such as depleted savings, the inability to pay
rent or mortgage, or the inability to pay their credit cards. Many, like
Maclin, also say their health has worsened after medical care they needed was
put off.
For Maclin, the financial woes seep from one area of her
life to another. The battery in her truck recently died, for example — transport
she relies on to get food and medicine. She used some of the $1,200 federal
stimulus money to fix it, but that money is now long gone, and she still has
bills she can't pay.
"I try so hard not to cry," says Maclin, who lives
alone. "I have nine grandkids and seven great-grandkids — I would love to
see them, but I can't," she says, weeping.
A lack of family funds compounds other problems in people's
lives, social services agencies confirm.
A lot of people facing multiple health and financial
problems have been turning to the Legal Aid Foundation of Los Angeles in recent
months. The nonprofit helps low-income families on a range of issues, from
employment and housing to medical benefits.
Financial problems magnify health issues
"There is a minimum of at least three issues per phone
call, whether it is housing insecurities ... because of their loss of job, or
they're dealing with food insecurity," says Ronnette Ramos, a managing
attorney at the foundation. That's magnifying health conditions as well, leading
to higher anxiety and blood pressure among clients, she says.
Many landlords, some dependent on rental income to survive,
are feeling the pinch, along with their tenants. Ramos says the landlords of
some of her clients are trying to find ways around the state and federal
moratoria on evictions — and that is exacerbating an already huge housing
crisis in L.A.
"Renters pay more than 50% of what they make towards
rent, so that doesn't leave much room for life upheaval," Ramos says.
"And we've been almost now in six months of life upheaval."
'We're the last people to recover'
In some cases, financial difficulties are forcing people to
make big changes.
Gregory Cooper spent 30-plus years in accounting and
operations in the oil and gas industry but had to move out of Houston after
more than a year without work.
"I mean, I have an MBA and I have two certifications,
but I'm struggling still," says Cooper, 60, who moved in with his elderly
mother in Alexandria, La. He finally landed a government accounting job making
about $40,000 a year — half what he used to make. He says it would be
terrifying to be without a job right now, because of his age and his race.
Black unemployment rates always run higher than the average,
he notes. "We're almost the last people to recover when it comes to
unemployment."
Cooper says he worries the pandemic is intensifying unrest
over the racial inequities in education and employment in the U.S. Yet those
dynamics also feel familiar to him. "I see our parents do it, and show us
how to make ends meet," he says. "I think that sometimes is good,
versus being born with a silver spoon in your mouth."
But for some, including Alvaro Castro, 58, financial
hardship is a new experience. The married father of two was born in Colombia
and for three decades has lived in a suburb of Miami. He made more than
$100,000 a year, until he lost his job as a television producer last September.
It was April before he found steady work as a contractor, making less than he
had earned previously.
"When you have four people for five months, and only one
person is producing, it's hard," he says. "Especially with food; it's
quite expensive."
This spring, he fell behind on mortgage and car payments, as
he scrimped and saved on every expense he could think of.
'I don't have enough to pay this medical copayment'
But there were some things they could not postpone. Like his
wife's cataract surgery in April.
"I remember that she called me from the hospital — the
clinic — and said, 'I don't have enough to pay this medical copayment,' "
Castro says. They moved funds around to scrape together the $250 copayment.
Part of surviving the pandemic, he says, has meant taking a
more philosophical approach to life's problems.
"Money is not the most important factor in our
life," Castro says. "Maybe the most important factor in your life is
the way that you relate with others, the way [you] share the time with your
loved ones, or the way that you already appreciate how they feel about
you."
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