ANDERSON — For Lora Mullins, every day is a struggle.
Another 24 hours worrying whether she and her husband will have enough money for food and to fill their car with gasoline so they can drive to work.
Another long day wondering where they'll find money for prescriptions and health insurance.
"I'm not going to lie, sometimes I'll break down and cry about our financial situation," Mullins said. "It's just overwhelming."
Mullins and her husband Anthony, a construction subcontractor, live in Anderson's hardscrabble Irondale neighborhood. She works 25 hours a week at the Pendleton Travel Co.
Mullins has two associate degrees but can't find a full-time job. She searches and searches, but no opportunities arise. So she and her husband make too much money to qualify for government assistance but not nearly enough to pay their bills and still handle life's unexpected but inevitable financial setbacks.
And now Mullins is saddled with $45,000 in student loan debt.
A recent study reveals the prevalence of stories like the Mullinses' in Madison County. Conducted by the Indiana Association of United Ways, the study tabulates the number of people belonging to a group that lingers above poverty but below sustainable self-sufficiency. This group, for the purposes of the study, is known by the acronym ALICE, which stands for Asset Limited, Income Constrained, Employed.
People who fall into the ALICE group typically earn less than $20 per hour and don't have the disposable income to save money. The study showed that 48 percent of the population in Anderson and 42 percent of the entire county are either in the ALICE group or in poverty.
Rock and a hard place
Kim Williams, vice president of the United Way of Madison County, said the two biggest factors in Madison County's high ALICE and poverty rates are poor education and a market flooded with low-paying service jobs.
She noted that people who find themselves in the ALICE group are stuck in a chasm between earning enough money to live comfortably and qualifying for government assistance programs such as food stamps and Social Security.
That fact is painfully true for Mullins. She and her husband, she says, were told by the government that they make $10 too much per month to qualify for food stamps.
According to the United Way study, a single person needs to earn $18,044 per year, about $9 an hour for a 40-hour-a-week job, to survive without assistance. The state of Indiana adheres to the federal minimum wage, which is just $7.25 an hour.
There were two bills introduced by Democrats in the recently completed session of the Indiana General Assembly proposing an increase in the state's minimum wage to $10.10. Neither of the bills made it to the floor of the House or Senate for a vote.
For a family of four, the survival budget jumps to $48,769 per year, or $24 an hour. Although the survival budget accounts for a modest living and doesn't factor in savings, it is still significantly more than what the federal government considers to be the poverty rate. Single adults aren't considered impoverished unless they earn less than $11,170 per year. The official poverty rate cutoff is $23,050 for a family of four.
Most people in Madison County wouldn't think making $12 per hour qualifies a person for government help, according to Williams. Those who live frugally might be able to keep up with bills for food, utilities, housing and clothing. But when extra expenses hit, there's no surplus safety net.
"When you're living paycheck to paycheck and don't have any money to put toward savings, unexpected expenses can really kill you," Williams said. "Even relatively small things like car repairs can be devastating."
Some local programs and organizations -- such as food pantries, WorkOne employment assistance and Anderson's Impact Center for adult education -- offer help to people in the ALICE group. But seeking and asking for help can be difficult.
Jason Darts lives in Elwood with his family of five. He lost his job as a mover after falling ill at the end of 2014. Insurance helped cover part of the hospital bills. Darts needed help paying for electricity, gasoline and other needs.
"It's hard to ask for help," he said. "You've really got to swallow your pride."
Leroy Quashie, professor of family sciences at Anderson University, noted that a strong stigma can be attached to seeking help.
"You see a lot of debate nationally about whether people should ask the government for handouts," Quashie said. "And handouts sound like you're begging for money."
Programs that are open to everyone create a sense of equality, he noted. But once there is a guideline for assistance, such as poverty levels for food stamps, people often become ashamed to ask for help. Accepting charity, to some, is a withering blow to self esteem.
Darts' landlord was understanding enough to let him fall a little behind in his payments. He's working to catch up now. If his landlord had demanded on-time rent payments, Darts and his family would have been evicted.
The genesis of ALICE
Nancy Vaughan, president of the United Way of Madison County, said it became clear about five years ago that something needed to be done to help people stuck between poverty and prosperity, especially as Anderson sought an economic foothold after General Motors jobs disappeared and the recession hit in 2008.
Unemployment skyrocketed, rising to 13.6 percent in Madison County in February 2010. By March of this year it had fallen to 7.0 percent. But that rate doesn't reflect underemployment, which has risen dramatically as high-paying factory jobs in the auto industry give way to low-paying service jobs.
The shift toward service jobs is apparent here in Anderson. According to U.S. census statistics, the median household income for Anderson in 2000 was $32,577. In 2010, that number had managed to inch upward to $33,574. To keep up with inflation and stay at the year 2000 purchasing power level, the median household income locally would have had to climb to more than $44,000 by 2010, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics' Inflation Calculator.
In 2011, the Indiana Association of United Ways joined 10 others across the United States in a pilot group to evaluate financial stability among local populations.
"There was no program to address what I was seeing," Vaughan said. "We didn't know how to track it or how to start to fix it."
She explained that a United Way in New Jersey was the first to come up with the ALICE definition, and it has since spread nationwide.
"ALICE finally put numbers to the problem," Williams said.
The United Way now has a statistically-supported definition of people who are working hard but can't get ahead. And the organization better understands the scope of the problem.
"There's a big misconception that if you need assistance, you've done something wrong," Williams said. "That's not true at all, and it's especially not true with ALICE."
Anyone can fall into the ALICE category: single people, families, young and old.
Mullins went to Harrison College to get a college education, which she thought would improve her quality of life. But five years after graduation, she finds herself working part time. Over 50 years old, Mullins worries that her age could reduce her job opportunities.
She enjoys her job as a travel agent's assistant, but it doesn't require full-time hours. The uncertainty of the construction industry, Anthony's line of work, only exacerbates the problem for the Mullinses.
"I had to go through our records when we were applying for help, and my husband made $40 in January last year," Mullins said. "It's not that bad all the time, but it shows how unpredictable it can be."
Mullins said she and her husband try to save money; they visit food banks and wait for special deals at the grocery store. But needs such as health insurance break their bank account. Neither of them have access to workplace health insurance, so they signed up for insurance through the Affordable Care Act.
"The first year (2013) it was only $30 a month, which is doable for us," Mullins said. "But then it jumped to $130 per month. There's no way we could do that."
The most frustrating part for Mullins is having the means — an education — to get ahead financially but not being able to use it. With no new job opportunities looming, Mullins doesn't see a way out.