New Mexico Has Become the Land of Uncertainty for Welfare Recipients

ALBUQUERQUE — For welfare recipient Roberta Lucero, things have only gotten worse since PROGRESS came to New Mexico.

That is the acronym for Gov. Gary Johnson’s welfare reform plan, which made this state the only one that counts federal housing subsidies in determining a person’s eligibility for benefits. It also considers the incomes of everyone living in a household--even though the other money may not be available to the person in need.

The plan was recently scrapped by the state Supreme Court on the grounds that Johnson imposed it without approval of the Legislature. And state officials have yet to hammer out a compromise--and reprogram welfare computers--in a manner that complies with federal regulations.

So for the time being, New Mexico’s Human Services Department is trying to enforce a confusing blend of PROGRESS and the now-defunct federal Aid to Families With Dependent Children in what remains the only state without a federally sanctioned welfare reform plan.

The situation has left many of the 17,800 New Mexicans who live benefit check to benefit check feeling fearful and confused.

For 42-year-old Lucero, it has meant a drawn-out battle with welfare officials who are demanding confidential information on the income of the woman from whom she has rented a room for seven years. Her roommate is 73 years old and recovering from a series of strokes. Providing welfare officials with that information could mean the loss of benefits for Lucero’s 15-year-old son.

“When it started, PROGRESS made for some clever billboard signs and bumper stickers,” Lucero said. “Now, it’s producing the horror stories of a bureaucracy gone Frankenstein. It’s like living with an abuser who controls his victim with continual uncertainty--you never know what he’s going to do or how it’ll affect you,” she added. “I can only think that Gov. Johnson has ambitions of riding into a national post by having the first poor-free state.”

Michael Kharfen, spokesman for the federal Department of Health and Human Services, would not go that far. “There seems to be an extraordinary number of discordant voices in the Land of Enchantment,” Kharfen said. “But we see it as an internal issue to the state of New Mexico, and we hope they resolve it soon. Our aim is not to cut off federal funds to the state, which could mean a lack of assistance to needy families.”

In the meantime, advocates of the poor have filed a lawsuit against Johnson and state welfare officials, accusing them of foot-dragging in developing a welfare reform plan amenable to both the governor and the Legislature.

And the combative original head of PROGRESS, Duke Rodriguez, resigned last month amid allegations that he received money from a firm that collected millions of dollars in Medicaid payments from the state welfare department.

“PROGRESS screwed everything up,” complained Jeanette Jordan, 28, a mother of two whose welfare benefits were temporarily slashed when case agents began counting her federal housing subsidies as personal income.

“They cut my benefits completely in August, and then reinstated most of them,” she said. “It’s crazy, but I’m afraid to ask about it.”

No wonder. The mix-up has left Jordan, whose 11-year-old daughter suffers from acute Attention Deficit Disorder, a month behind in her utility bills. “I live in constant fear that any day now the benefits will disappear,” she said.

Gene Lavato, deputy secretary of the Human Services Department and primary author of the PROGRESS plan, says he is sympathetic. But he also suggested that the breakdown of welfare reform in New Mexico has inadvertently created “a golden opportunity for [welfare recipients] to reassess their strengths and weaknesses and get out and get a job.”

“I believe if you are physically able to take a handout, you’re able to grab a shovel and work,” he said.

Johnson, a 44-year-old self-made millionaire and dedicated triathlete, likes to say, “If you can work, you will work.”

Just getting that message out, according to a spokeswoman for the governor, has helped reduce welfare rolls in New Mexico by 50% over the last 15 months. Critics, however, attribute the plunge to PROGRESS’ eligibility restrictions--not to the movement of people off the rolls and into jobs.

In any case, Lucero is among many poor people here hoping for a long-term resolution to the disagreements and lawsuits over which branch of government--the Republican governor or the Democratic Legislature--should control how millions of federal dollars are spent to shrink welfare rolls.

Tossing a handful of contradictory letters and notices from welfare officials across a table, she said, “Here’s some of the wonderful bunch of gibberish they’ve been handing out. They’ve made welfare as vicious a process as one can imagine,” she added. “All I want is time to put my life back together.”