Design District Neighborhood, April 2010
Foxy is a licensed cosmetologist, who cannot find work in any salon: "These people don't want it done the right way anymore. They want it quick…"
From the moment I announced myself, she jumped into conversation with me. (Carmen, a neighbor, tells Foxy to tell me about her house being on a slant): "She don't need me to tell her that. She can see that herself when she looks at it."
Foxy is from Jamaica. (How long since she's been there?) "Not long enough!" She laughs and jokes that they don't want her back. She's Americanized.
(She tells me things, private things.) "I had everything done to me. I had a mastectomy, a hysterectomy…"
She paces back and forth on her tiny front porch, telling me about the owner who won't fix the problems with these homes: "He only cares about money."
She paces as she tells me about the building inspector who placates them with words, yet does nothing. She tells me about not being able to get food stamps because she refuses to declare herself as homeless - she has a roof, after all, even if it's attached to a house that's sinking on one side. She continues to pace, waving her arms in irritation, seeming to be relieved to get it all off her chest to someone who isn't a neighbor, who isn't the owner, who isn't a building inspector.
"Cars drive by and the people just see that our houses are shabby. They just see what they look like on the outside, but they don't see what they look like on the inside. They don't see that they're clean on the inside. I keep my house clean. We all - all of us on this street - keep our homes clean on the inside. But they can't see that when they drive by." She took me on a tour of her tiny home to prove it.
Her 3.5 room house had no hallway. Each room was connected to the next by a central doorway, with the bedroom in the middle, and the kitchen in the back. She had a large, cozy-looking, king-sized bed adorned with a massive bed frame, a thick comforter, and decorative pillows: "Let me tell you something. I'm 61 years old, and I've always had a comfortable bed. You always have to have a comfortable bed, no matter where you live. You need a comfortable place to rest your body."
(She sleeps in her bed alone.) "I live alone because I don't want a man to take advantage of me. I had a mastectomy (she tells me again, clinching her breasts). That's also why I don't have a man. I don't want them to feel sorry for me."
Foxy does what she can to get work, and she reminds me that she keeps her house clean. It is clean. And she has a roof over her head, and a tiled floor beneath her feet, even though it's slanted. It's her floor, and it's her roof, and though she wishes they were in better condition, she is thankful for having them both, and she keeps her house clean to show it.