Tess Ulrey - ALICE Voice
I come from a Midwestern family with an engineer father, a stay at home mother, and the belief that if you kept your nose down and worked hard, things like owning a home with a car in the driveway (that would always start to take you to work) were a given. I graduated high school in 2006, heading into the workforce at the height of the recession, but with the optimism that most people heading into the social service and nonprofit sector have.
My job wasn’t scrubbing floors, wasn’t flipping burgers, or all of the other things we typically think of as unskilled labor paying minimum wage - but it also wasn’t paying me enough to meet basic needs. I cobbled together a schedule that had me working a 9-5 M-F, picking up 3 shifts a week in a restaurant, and eventually taking on contract projects that I could work on in the wee hours of the morning. I was working hard, like I’d been taught, and grateful for the opportunity - but I was always making choices and juggling to keep my, and then my children’s basic needs met. I didn’t qualify for Medicaid, I didn’t qualify for cash assistance, I didn’t qualify for SNAP; I had a good job (well, jobs), and was always in the valley between the programs that could help me and the families making enough to own a home, drive a car that worked, or even send their kids to classes and camps.
Like it was for all my peers - rent was steadily rising, my utilities dutifully tacked on percentages every year, the vehicle I needed to get back and forth to work was less than reliable, visits to the grocery store meant a higher and higher bill - and my wages were never increasing at the same rate and letting me get ahead. I heard my dad talk about emergency funds, and how I needed to be prepared. It’s bleak to know that you’re one emergency away from even your less than ideal living situation collapsing.
A huge piece of this was healthcare. I had to take employer healthcare or “ObamaCare” plans, and it was a massive percentage of my income. However, my employment status and income made me ineligible for federal or state help, and going without was even worse. It’s being stuck between a rock and hard place, but with your health on the line. And those bills didn’t just happen in good times - I returned to work 3 weeks after a c-section that left me in the hospital for a week, and my daughter in the NICU. Before I left the hospital, I knew the NICU bill was looming (the billing department came directly to my room, my IV still in my arm, to make sure I knew), and I couldn’t afford the premiums when I was only getting temporary disability. I was grateful to have a job, and one that gave me some flexibility, but I literally couldn’t make rent or even get food on the dinner table if I didn’t go back to work.
I kept working under the ALICE threshold, juggling and not quite making it despite having a professional job and the financial resources it provided. I borrowed money for a cross-country move that promised a better cost of living, and while our basic needs were cheaper at first, I found the same issue - stagnant wages and exploding costs, just for things like gas and food. Soon, I needed to navigate the world of childcare, and found that my rent and childcare costs were exactly what I made per month - the same situation, firmly in that ALICE valley, juggling additional work just to feed my family (and no happy outlook on any sort of Disney trips, but I didn’t expect that anymore).
In 2019, I found a preschool that worked with families in the ALICE category acknowledging that the $45,000 I was making didn’t really cover the cost of childcare, even though by state guidelines I was far and above the poverty line. I was able to access full day, full time preschool for $150 per week, and it was the first time I was able to pivot - I was able to pour more into work, step back and even save a little for emergencies- even just enough breathing room that I could handle a gas bill that was $100 over what I had expected was life changing.
For the first time in my adult life, I’m over the ALICE threshold. In November of 2022, my salary increased to $65,000 - $900 over the ALICE threshold for a family of four. I’m a single parent of two elementary aged children, and cannot believe the difference it has made in my life. On a larger scale, I’m meeting my family’s basic needs, and we’re looking into the future about what opportunities my daughters can access. My older daughter wants to go to a science camp and a sailing camp this summer, and my younger daughter is able to see a private therapist to help her navigate some tough things. It’s small, but in January of this year, I went to the dentist for the first time in 12 years - like all parents, my children have come first, but like all ALICE parents, dental care for a parent is a luxury when you need to pay rent, put food on the table, and have a car to drive to work.
I’m grateful there’s conversations happening about families at the ALICE threshold, and our community is willing to take a closer look at the impact of this valley that exists. It’s important work, and I know firsthand just how difficult it can be. I’m willing to support more families’ quality of life, and thankful for the United Way’s work in this area!
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Tess Ulrey, Individual Giving Manager, Boys & Girls Club of Greater Southwest Michigan