Discovering Section 8 changes by word of mouth

March 27, 2024

It started with a message from a friend, asking what I knew about the situation. This was the first I’d heard of it. My friend heard about it from a friend. That friend of my friend heard about it from a friend of hers. The news spread, and we scrambled to learn the details, and how it would affect us. The news? The federal government is changing Section 8 housing voucher requirements this year. Today, two months later, I have more information, but none of the housing authorities in my area that I’ve checked have notified their tenants. Word is still spreading by word of mouth. And it’s spreading slowly.

I don’t want anyone to panic, but I also don’t want folks left in the dark. So I’m going to share what I know so far.

First, let’s take a moment to consider just how shitty this is. The federal Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) apparently changed the rules back in 2016, and the change was to take effect in 2024. That gave everyone 8 years to get their shit together. But they didn’t. The director of my housing authority told me that she only recently received information about this, and is still waiting for even more details. WTF? There are millions of people on Section 8. You’d think HUD would have a plan for this, but apparently, they don’t. Or they do, but it’s not a great one. Because every housing authority should really have gotten this information in enough time to formulate plans.

Section 8 is a federal program in the U.S. to help low income folks with housing. It’s a federal program, but it is administered by local housing authorities, and each can have slightly different rules. For example, one town might require housing inspections yearly while another could require them twice a year. I liked living in my former city, but the rental limits allowed on those Section 8 vouchers were unrealistically low. A big reason I moved to my current town was because they had much more realistic voucher limits – with effort, I could actually find a 1-bedroom apartment that met their requirements. No amount of effort would have made it work in my former city. These kinds of allowed differences are going to be very important for the current situation.

So far, I have learned about 3 changes, but my impression is that there could be more coming. Of course, it’s hard to tell, given the lack of transparency or notifications. I have spoken with my state and U.S. rep’s offices (and I spoke to my state rep directly), my town’s social worker, and the executive director of my housing authority. The representative’s offices didn’t even know about this until I informed them! One even told me that there is no asset limit, and sent me a pdf with that statement. I had to remind him that this is something new in 2024, and point out that the pdf he sent me was dated 2020. That’s how horrible the communication is.

The first change is an asset limit. Until now, there hasn’t been any asset limit. The new asset limit is $100,000. As the head of my housing authority said, to some people this is a huge amount of money and to others it’s very little. My understanding is that folks with more than $100,000 in assets will not be eligible for a first-time voucher. For folks who already have a voucher, it is up to their individual housing authority! Yes, that’s right, one town might enforce this new rule and the neighboring town might not. And it’s just down to luck whether your city/town enforces it or not. Just like whether your city/town requires one or two housing inspections per year. And while some housing authorities have already made decisions about this, others have not. Either way, there’s still a chance to say something. I’ll get to that in a moment.

The second change has to do with medical deductions. I spend a fair amount on medical practitioners, equipment, tests, and treatments that aren’t covered by insurance. This reduces my reported income, which in turn reduces my rent. Apparently, this is going to be changing. Unfortunately, I learned about this on the phone, like with all of the other information, because nothing is in writing yet. And I’m not sure I understood. It sounded like the minimum amount of medical expenses that would count is currently $4000, and that would be going up to $8000. That would be a huge problem for a lot of people! But again, I’m not 100% sure about this, so please check for yourself (once they actually know what they’re doing, that is.)

The third change seems like a good, but strange, one. Current voucher holders will be asked if their income is under a certain amount. On the phone, I couldn’t tell if she said $15,000 or $50,000. I’m guessing the former, but I’m not certain. If they say yes, then they won’t need to send in proof.

Apparently, these changes are meant to decrease the paperwork that housing authorities are dealing with. I can see how this would be the case. If someone says they earn under, say, $15,000, and based on their initial paperwork this seems likely, then the housing authority won’t need to go to so much trouble. If the minimum amount of medical expenses to count is doubled then fewer people with bother to submit receipts. If assets of over $100,000 knock people out of the program, then a quick asset check will take care of things and there will be no need for income verification. Yup, that part makes sense.

The problem is the human toll. HUD says they want to reduce homelessness. That’s a good goal. But these measures won’t do that! Let’s say I had $150,000 in assets. That would kick me off my voucher in some towns. In my case, without the voucher, my rent would go up $2000 in my current “affordable housing” apartment. Maybe I could find someplace cheaper to live, but the options are very limited, especially because I need a home without stairs. I would need to get a roommate, but then the chances are that they would eat gluten and I would get a lot sicker. A friend is currently looking for an apartment with a roommate and even then, her budget (which is $1100 more than I currently pay) is making that very difficult. Still, let’s say I get a roommate (a bad idea!) and only pay another $1100 per month. In three years and two months, I’ll be under the asset limit. If I pay the extra $2000 to stay in my current apartment, I’ll be under the limit in under two years. The problem is that I’ll need to reapply for Section 8. In my area, the wait lists are 10 years long. In other areas, the waitlists are closed altogether. In my current home, that $150,000 in assets would be gone in under 6 years, long before I’d be likely to get another voucher. Then what?!?

Now, I want to state here that I am very privileged, and I am grateful for it, while also feeling horrible that so many others are not. First, my housing authority is not implementing the asset limit which, yes, would cause me to lose my voucher. At least, this is what they say. I’ll feel better when I see it in writing. And second, my parents are able to help me financially. While they can’t cover all of my bills, they can give me enough to make things work. And as a last result, I could move in with them. This isn’t a great option, though, because (1) none of us would like it (2) their home has stairs to get in and the guest room is on the second floor (3) they eat a lot of gluten foods and wouldn’t stop if I moved in. Still, at least I wouldn’t be homeless, like so many others will be.

Now, if HUD really wants to reduce homelessness, you know what they could do? They could offer more vouchers! There’s obviously a need for more vouchers when wait lists are so long. What they should not do is kick people out of the program. These are folks who are saving up for a house, using their funds to cover medical expenses, paying off debts, and more. Taking away their housing vouchers doesn’t mean they’ll land on their feet. It will only perpetuate the cycle.

If you have a Section 8 voucher, there is one thing you can do: speak up! It seems that housing authorities are required to have a 90-day public comment period before instituting major changes like these. Few people go to these meetings or send in comments, so the ones that do speak up are heard even louder. Speaking up doesn’t mean the housing boards will listen, but it’s worth a try! Call your local housing authority and ask then their public comment period will start and how you can best comment. Attend their meetings. Make your voice heard!

Of course, the other thing we need to do is to elect more politicians at all levels who work to help low-income and disabled folks – I mean politicians who actually help us, and don’t just implement these kinds of policies (or appoint people who implement these kinds of policies) that might look nice on paper but which actually harm a lot of people. Low-income and disabled people are blamed for so many of society’s ills. We’re convenient scape-goats. But those problems aren’t our fault, and taking away our lifelines won’t improve anyone else’s lives. We need people who will fight for us, not against us.

Before I leave, one last thought: please share this. It is disgraceful that this isn’t being talked about. The only article I have seen came the National Low Income Housing Coalition. No major news outlets are discussing it, housing authorities (at least in my area) aren’t putting out statements, and even our politicians don’t know about it. I don’t want someone to get a letter in the mail letting them know they’ll be losing their voucher in just a few months. Or that their medical expenses will no longer count as deductions. That won’t be enough time for people to make arrangements, and the emotion turmoil will be so much worse. People have a right to know that they might be facing these changes. I rarely ask you to post my blog posts to social media or to share them with friends, but I think this is one case where it’s worth asking. We need to let people know what’s coming so they can prepare.

If you have more details about this situation, please comment below or email me! I want to have as much information as possible. I’ll update this post with anything I learn.


What shopping carts show us about capitalistic ableism

December 31, 2023

Well that was a surprise: my last post was over 5 months ago, and in that post I said I would continue writing, but then, well, chronic illness was its usual pain in the ass and then some. Still, better late than never, right?

I said in that post that I was dealing with a lot of fatigue because my medications were off and I was waiting to see a new doctor. Well, that new doctor ran a lot of tests; I thought she went overboard, but I’m so glad she ran them! Not only were my medications off, but she found a couple of other issues, also. I’m getting treatments for both. One is long term and I’m slowly but surly getting better. The other should be temporary, and if my immune system was functioning the way it should, I’d be better by now. But it’s not, and I’m not. So instead I’m spending a lot of time resting. I’m not socializing with friends or doing fun things. But hopefully soon, in the next few months, that will get better, too. The fatigue has improved, but not enough, and over-exertion is a big issue.

Even with the extra health issues and the accompanying extra symptoms, I need to keep doing the basics of life, and that includes getting groceries. It was on a recent grocery trip that I felt fed up with the shopping cart system. I’m sure it’s different in different parts of the world, but where I am, the system sucks for disabled folks.

Let’s say you use a cart while you shop, and then you use it to bring your purchases to your car. What do you do with the cart after you unload everything? Where I am, there are usually two options: bring the cart back to the store’s entrance, or put it in one of the cart return areas in the parking lot. There are usually a couple of these in each parking aisle. This seems simple, but there are definitely problems.

Typically the parking spaces closest to the store entrance are marked as accessible parking. Then there are a few regular parking spaces. Then a cart return. Then more parking spaces and, depending on the size of the lot, there may be a second return farther down the aisle.

The most obvious problem is that some people don’t feel like walking to those cart drop-off areas. If they’re parked near the accessible parking spaces, which are bigger than most, then if one is empty, people will often leave carts there. Even if the spaces are taken, people will often leave carts in the marked off area next to the spaces, which then blocks many wheelchair users and others from enter or exiting their vehicles.

The problem that is apparently less obvious but shouldn’t be, is that disabled folks also need to return our carts. Let’s say I park in an accessible spot because I need to reduce the amount I must walk. By the time I get to my car I’m in pain and/or fatigued. Now I need to return my cart. Walking back to the store is too far. And walking all the way over to a cart return is also too far – if it weren’t, I could have parked over there to begin with!

Both of these problems could be solved by simply moving the cart returns closer to the accessible parking spots. Then we’d have accessible parking spots followed by cart returns followed by regular parking spots and then another cart return and finally more regular parking spots.

This solves both problems because disabled people would have an easier time returning our carts and non-disabled people who park nearby could leave their carts in the cart returns instead of in the accessible parking spaces.

This is where capitalism comes in, I would guess. Stores want customers. Most customers do not park in accessible parking. Most customers want to park close to the store. The stores do not want to take up the closer regular parking spots with cart returns. That isn’t an efficient use of space for their paying customers. Yes, it’s only a tiny extra distance for an abled person to walk. Yes, someone who has to return a cart would need to do extra walking either way, and this just changes the direction. But it feels like more effort for folks, and no one wants that. Apparently it’s better to cause a few people to expend a whole lot of effort than to cause a lot of people to expend a tiny amount of effort.

I’m curious what you think. Are parking lots in your area set up in this way? Have you experienced a better system? Am I missing something? I’d love to know!


A dozen years later…

July 21, 2023

Today is the anniversary of this blog. It’s a simple sentence with a lot of meaning behind it.

Back when I started this blog in 2011, I had ideas about what it would be and what it would mean. A lot of that worked out, some didn’t, and a lot I honestly can’t even remember. What I do know is that 12 years ago today, while I worked at a job but struggled to do anything else, I committed to this blog. I promised myself I would write every day to start, and I did. I wrote daily, even if it was just a small blurb. It was good for me to have that commitment. While I struggled so much, this was something I could do for myself.

This blog has helped more than I can say. The community and support here have been invaluable. Yet, you may have noticed that I’ve been writing less. While I no longer write every day, or even every month, this blog is not forgotten. In fact, in the two months since my last post, I have jotted down several ideas, and have wanted to write quite a few times. So why don’t I?

First, during the years of writing this blog, I also wrote a book. I published it under my real name, yet I want this blog to stay anonymous. I often post something on social media or in a newsletter that relates to my health. Later, I think about writing on that topic for this blog but I realize I can’t, because it would be too easy to link the two.

Second, I’ve been writing this blog for 12 years! Chronic illness is never-ending (that’s the whole chronic part, right?) so there’s always more to say, but it doesn’t always feel fresh and new. This particular post is #802. After more than 800 posts, it’s hard to feel original.

And finally, I’m tired. Just so tired. My medications have been off for a long time, and I have been trying to find a new doctor to fix things. (Side note: I’m seeing someone new in another month, and hoping that maybe this will be the one.) Meanwhile, I have fatigue. I also have to care for my own health, do the stuff of life (groceries, cooking, laundry), take care of my pup (yay, I have a pup! I’ll talk about him separately), and try to do small amounts of work in addition to, you know, trying to have some fun and see family and friends and DO THINGS. Something’s gotta give. Too often, this blog is one of those things. It’s not that I don’t care, just that I feel overwhelmed and because I take this blog and you for granted, I let it slide. But I shouldn’t take you for granted. You have been amazing. You have shown me support and provided so much great advice. I should offer more in return.

I want to say that I’ll start writing regularly again, but I don’t think I can make that promise. What I can promise, though, is that I’ll continue to think about things I want to write and that I’ll make more of an effort to write at least some of them. Because today marks 12 years of writing about a journey that still has a very long way to go. And I definitely have more to say about it.


When a broken bone isn’t worth a doctor visit…. or is it?

May 25, 2023

As I hopped on one foot while holding the other with both hands, I knew I hadn’t just stubbed my toe. I’ve done that countless times and this pain was orders of magnitude worse. I figured I sprained it. Damn.

I thought of going to a doctor, but what was the point? They would just tell me to tape it, ice it, and elevate it. Plus, they’d probably think I was being ridiculous for bothering them with a sprained toe. So I went on with my day. I took the dog to the vet. I went to the grocery store, but used the electric cart to gather my food. I hobbled into the post office. I limped as I brought my groceries into my apartment in two trips and put them all away. Finally, finally, I was able to sit and put my foot up. It hurt a lot but at least it wasn’t broken.

The next day, I knew something wasn’t right. As I unwrapped the tape from my toe, the pain was intense. Even touching the toe with no pressure was excruciating. Maybe I should see a doctor after all? But it’s not like they can do anything for a sprained toe that I wasn’t already doing. Then again, I sprained my wrist a few years ago and had additional tendon and ligament damage and it wasn’t nearly this painful. Hmm.

As I continued to limp around my apartment, I still hesitated to seek medical help. They’d probably think I was being absurd, right? I had therapy that morning, and I thought I might ask her advice. Then I realized I’d asked her for this kind of advice many times, and I knew how she’d respond. She would ask if I had a doctor I trusted who I could reach out to. Well yeah, I have a podiatrist that I trust a lot. Ok, I could do this. I took a deep breathe, and made the call….

When the podiatrist’s office called me back, I’m not entirely sure what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this:

Me: (Describes the situation.)
Them: “It could be broken or dislocated. We’d need you to come in so we can figure it out.”
Me: *thinking that of course it’s not broken, but I guess it could possibly be dislocated or something else, right?* “Ok, what do you have available?”
Them: “How soon can you get here?”
Me: *oh shit, that can’t be good*

I went in that afternoon. At some point between hanging up the phone and leaving my apartment, I noticed a bruise forming on the top of my foot, not where I’d hit it. Hmm, not a good sign. And it occurred to me that while this wasn’t the worst pain I’d experienced, it was pretty bad. Maybe it was broken after all? At the x-ray, I noticed the bruise had gotten larger and darker and thought, Oh crap, I think it might be broken. The doctor took one look at the x-ray and immediately said it was broken. And to be honest, I was sort of relieved. At least I knew what it was. And I wasn’t ridiculous to seek help. But maybe I was a bit ridiculous for waiting? She turned the computer monitor and showed me the x-rays. She said it was a big break, going all the way across the toe. Yup, I could see that clearly on the x-ray. Damn. The good news was that as long as it didn’t get worse, I wouldn’t need surgery. And as soon as she splinted it, walking became significantly less painful.

So what did I learn here? I didn’t learn that I need to always seek medical help when I have an injury, because I have enough past experience to know that’s not always going to work out well for me. No, what I learned is that my past history of being treated like shit by many doctors over decades of my life has taught me to avoid seeking help even when I need it. I learned that I have to work on differentiating when I’m skipping seeking help because I really don’t need it versus when my near-lifetime of medical trauma is pushing me away from it. I learned that I have good reasons to want to avoid seeing doctors, but that sometimes, it’s worth making a phone call to ask for their advice. Oh, and I also learned that when looking at my broken toe is depressing me, pretty nail polish does wonders to brighten up my toes and my mood.

(Side note: the swelling and faint bruise on the left in this photo are from this injury. The scars on my two biggest toes are from a surgery several years ago. This poor foot has had a rough time.)

Picture of a left foot on a beige carpet. The two smallest toes are taped together. All of the visible toes are swollen and the foot is swollen. The two largest toes have faint vertical scars. The two largest toenails are painted purple, the middle nail is painted electric blue, and the fourth is painted bright blue. All toenails have a layer of gold glitter nail polish on them. The smallest toenail is not visible because of the tape.