The Courage to ask for help.

Written By Hannah Spencer

The Courage to Ask for Help

Not in a million years did I think I, an educated woman who spent years raising a family and volunteering, would be relying on Medicaid and SNAP (food stamps) to get by this past year post divorce Yet, there I was—a single mother of two applied for government assistance and after-school scholarships. A terrifying path with a meager income working 3-5 jobs, having lost all of my savings and no alimony to cushion the fall.

I thought I'd be on my feet in a year. I was wrong. The road was harder, longer, and more isolating than I could have imagined. I soon found myself in the Medicaid office, filling out endless forms

It was there that the real struggle began: The shame. I felt it pulling into the office, hoping no one would see me. I felt it sitting for hours while my financial life was laid bare. This shame isn't just personal; it's a collective, societal burden. It's the shame that keeps women like me small, that forces us to hide our SNAP cards at the grocery store, desperate to maintain the illusion of being "fine." It's the shame fueled by ignorant social media posts suggesting that recipients are simply "beggars and losers not willing to work."

Who does this shame serve? It certainly doesn't help the mothers working two or three jobs and who are working tirelessly to make ends meet. It doesn't help the millions of families living terrifyingly close to the edge.

I personally am done carrying that shame.

In the book The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse, the little boy asks, "What is the bravest thing you’ve ever said? " The horse answers, "Ask for help."

I’ve learned that asking for help is one of the most courageous things a person can do. It is the courage to want change so badly that you open yourself up to many hands. It is the courage to show your children it's okay to struggle and to ask for help, you show them your resiliency and the courage it takes to rise in the morning and show up for your life when everything appears hard.

To every family relying on SNAP or any other form of assistance: I see you. I am your neighbor, your friend, your coworker, and your fellow human. You are not a statistic, and you are not a failure.

You are brave.

Hannah Spencer

As a child, Spencer spent her summers with her family sailing around Lake George, NY, picking berries, camping, fishing, and bird watching. She remembers fondly, “I have always been in love with the natural world. Those magical experiences have shaped who I am and how I express myself through art. It has given me a passion for the beauty and wonder of nature and a deep gratitude of the vitality for the wild landscapes.”

In her late teens, Spencer migrated west and soon became enraptured with the sage-infused desert canyons and the vastness of the seemingly never-ending sky. She saw a simpler way of life. She believes that decades of the western landscape feeding her its magical power kindled a personal transformation in her. Now living her childhood dream, Spencer is a self-taught woodblock artist and a fly-fishing guide. “I use woodblock to challenge me and my thought process.” She finds that as she carves the wood, she continually reminds herself, “to soften the edges and dark areas, not to draw in every detail. Sometimes it is what you don’t carve or call attention to that has the greatest impact. A lesson in life and how I want to live.”

Her artwork begins out in the field where she sketches her inspired surroundings. Then she transfers the drawings onto a sustainable wood block in reverse. She carefully prepares the woodblock as a relief pattern, cutting away the negative spaces with Japanese hand tools in several sizes. When she is satisfied with the carving, she inks the block and prints it onto paper.

Spencer’s work comes from an old tradition that she deliberately chooses, “I avoid the overt use of modern technology by carving, pressing, and printing in the old- fashioned method…by hand.” She uses oil-based inks and prints onto archival Japanese paper for her black and white images and archival watercolor paper with watercolor paint for her colored images.

Currently, Spencer resides with husband and 9-year-old twins on the banks of the Salmon River in Idaho. She and her family live off grid where they have built a sustainable straw-bale home. They maintain bees, a garden that feeds the family, and pure joy for their surroundings.

https://www.hbsartworks.com