Seems like the word “sequester” has become part of our everyday vernacular here in the DC metro region, so much so that not a day goes by without it coming up in some context. Yet, since its implementation, it feels like the sense of urgency to resolve the impact of the sequester has dissipated. It’s no longer front page news and has become the source of jokes and derision. There was the non-“snowquester” in March; the sparring about what was really behind the cancellations of all White House tours; and the reports about how Congress quickly passed legislation to resolve the impact of the sequester on air travel – just as their week-long recess was beginning (really???). And all the while, critical social services that are helping to meet the needs of our poorest communities are being cut. Programs like Headstart, nutrition assistance, child-care subsidies, and health screenings for low-income women all faced significant cutbacks but without the same sense of outrage or swift action that some of these less consequential outcomes spurred.

The reality is that the sequester is not a joke, and though the hype has faded and pundits are saying the effects have not been as bad as predicted, for many people the very real implications and impact of these policy decisions are just beginning. For them, this will be devastating. Hundreds of thousands of people have been affected by cuts to programs like those listed above; poor people in this country are once again bearing the brunt of bad policy and are finding that their pathways out of poverty have been blocked.

And the sequester isn’t only affecting people who rely on social services. There are also the large swaths of the federal workforce that have been required to take mandatory furloughs. A chief economist for Moody’s Analytics told The Hill last month that one-third of the federal workforce – nearly one million people – “will be furloughed for an average of 13 days through September.” This can have an enormous impact on any family, and for those at the bottom of the federal pay scale – who are probably already living paycheck to paycheck – it is likely crushing and life-changing. Keep in mind that, in the Washington region, the federal pay scale that determines how much most of the federal civilian workforce is paid starts at just over $22,000.

People I know and people you know and maybe see every day could be among those who will have to go without pay for more than two weeks to ease the financial strain on the federal government. It makes you wonder what the average person is supposed to give up to ease her own financial strain.

Our lawmakers need to start putting the needs of those who are most disadvantaged first instead of last and try to put themselves, even for a moment, in the shoes of those who are most profoundly impacted by the policy decisions they are making (or not making as the case may be) from on high.

Nicky Goren is president of Washington Area Women’s Foundation.

As we approached Equal Pay Day (April 9th), a number of bloggers and organizations were asked to write about what they’d do with an additional $11,000. That’s how much more the average woman would earn per year if her pay were equal to a man’s.

If she were a woman of color, however, that gap would be even greater. In the Washington region, the median earnings for black women are over $37,000 less than that of white men ($46,138 vs. $83,299). For Latinas, the gap is more than $52,000 ($30,831 vs. $83,299). Asian women have median earnings of $48,891 – over $34,000 less than the earnings of white men.*

If women’s incomes matched those of white men, what would that additional money mean for women of color in our community? It would be more than enough to fund an entire associate’s degree at a local community college. It would fund more than half of a bachelor’s degree at some local universities. It would send three children to a really high-quality preschool in DC. And it would cover the cost of a two-bedroom apartment in the District. It could provide more reliable transportation and could fund afterschool activities and trips. Something could be set aside for the inevitable emergencies life throws everyone’s way, and investments could be made.

In addition to funding the basic needs of themselves and their families, these women would be putting a staggering amount of money back into our community. In our report, 2010 Portrait of Women & Girls in the Washington Metropolitan Area, we shared that nearly two million women live in the DC region. Fifty-three percent of them are Asian, black or Latina – that’s about one million. If just half of them had an income that matched the median earnings of white men, they’d have a combined income of $42 trillion. And that’s only half! Imagine if all women across the area were compensated as well as men….

That money would support families, be spent at local businesses, and could be invested in assets across our region that would build better neighborhoods and ultimately a better community. A significant portion would go to the federal government and – given the fact that women donate an average of 3.5 percent of their wealth – the nonprofit community would see some pretty significant changes, as well.

In addition to discussing what women would do with a higher income, I think it’s important to recognize what we can all accomplish when women earn more. Like so many other things, pay equity is an issue that primarily touches the lives of women – but it’s not simply a “women’s issue.” It affects every one of us and as long as it exists, it means that we’re not doing as well as we could be economically or morally. Equal pay for equal work is the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, and the only thing to do if we truly want to make this a country where everyone can thrive.

*See page 32 of 2010 Portrait of Women & Girls in the Washington Metropolitan Area.

Tamara*, a long-time nurses’ assistant, hurt herself at work and was told she would be let go if she could not do her job. To prevent a sudden income loss, she applied for Unemployment Insurance (UI), but was denied because she was still technically employed by the nursing home.

A week later she was fired, and, within a few months, reported that her car had been repossessed, and that she had been unable to pay her utility bills.

Despite the struggles of poor Americans like Tamara, the way the media portrays poverty in America is changing. Between headlines like “Bleak Portrait of Poverty is Off the Mark,” in The New York Times, and the recent release of the Census Bureau’s Supplemental Poverty Measure, a long-standing debate as to what constitutes poverty in the U.S. and how many people are truly poor has reemerged.

In particular, some argue that poor families’ standards of living have steadily risen over the last several decades, such that someone who is classified as poor today is likely to own a television or an X-box. Poor families’ consumption levels also tend to outpace their reported income levels, suggesting the poor have more resources available to them than expected, or that they systematically under-report their income.

Yet a study in which I’ve been involved for the past five years suggests that, regardless of where the official poverty mark is set, the lives of those living close to the poverty line are quite difficult, particularly during this economic downturn.

Since 2006, I have been interviewing a group of mostly single, African American mothers in their 30s and 40s living around Detroit, Michigan. Even during the best of economic times, female-headed households, particularly African American ones, tend to be one of the most vulnerable segments of our society.

During the recession, these women’s struggles have only worsened. The tough economy is partially to blame, but they have also had to find ways to weather the recession with minimal and unreliable assistance. Of the ways these women can seek support, none are very satisfying.

The first option is Unemployment Insurance (UI). When women like Tamara have lost their jobs, however, most do not qualify for UI. Some because of low earnings, others because the circumstances around their termination were complicated.

An alternative is the Temporary Assistance to Needy Families program (welfare). Early on, we asked women about experiences with the welfare office, and many chose not to receive these benefits during times of job loss because they did not want to be treated as if they were looking for a handout.

Given the benefits they could expect to receive, some women deemed the time and effort of dealing with a discourteous bureaucracy simply not worth it. Instead, they opted to receive food stamps only, which involves less interaction with the welfare office.

For women who decided to apply for benefits, the path was not much easier. In 2009, Nichelle*, another woman in our study, returned to Michigan when she lost her out-of-state job. Before moving back, she submitted an application online for assistance. Despite her planning, she waited more than a year for any benefits. She was first told her paper work was lost, and subsequently shuttled between various caseworkers.

Even the women who successfully apply for benefits struggle to maintain them. Take the example of Rhonda*, whose caseworker made a mistake when it was time for her food stamp case to be recertified, which happened every six months. During one of the recertification periods, Rhonda’s caseworker inadvertently closed the case and then Rhonda “couldn’t figure out how to get it straightened out.” It took four months for the mistake to be undone.

Regardless of their individual experiences, all of these women struggle with debt. Most choose to keep their gas and electricity connected, often by carrying large balances with the utility company. A few turned to credit cards during periods of unemployment or underemployment. With no other source of income, Nichelle used her credit card, as well as her refund from the Earned Income Tax Credit, to pay for a motel room with her children for nearly a year.

Food stamps, although necessary, will not pay for an overdue electricity bill or a required school uniform. While credit cards and debt accrual strategies may help families maintain a certain level of consumption, high interest rates mean even more debt, and a damaged credit score often follows.

Is this the kind of safety net we want? These women need better options to turn to without roadblocks every step of the way.

* All of the names in this piece have been changed to protect the women’s identities.

Kristin S. Seefeldt is an assistant professor for the School of Public and Environmental Affairs at Indiana University.

This entry was re-posted with permission from Spotlight on Poverty & Opportunity, the source for news, ideas and action.