My first job after graduating from college was with the N. Y. 

dept. of social services, more commonly known as the welfare dept.  

At twenty three I had a caseload of sixty plus families who were 

struggling to survive in the Bedford - Styvacent section of Brooklyn.  

An area of impoverished Black and Hispanic people, living in rundown 

buildings that had once been the homes of more prosperous white folks.  

These now dilapidated brownstones and townhouses had been converted into 

many smaller apartments, often owned by orthodox Jewish landlords seemingly 

more interested in turning a profit then providing their tenants with well 

kept and secure homes.  My function as the welfare overseer was to 

check up on these households to make sure no one was secretly becoming 

wealthy on the six hundred dollars a month that a family of four was 

supposed to live on in New York.  My supreme authority lay in my ability

to issue special grants of money to cover any unexpected needs such as 

shoes, underwear or a new mattress.  It was during required but hastily 

arranged "home visits" that I was expected to open dresser draws and 

actually count the number of socks and underwear purchased, lest the 

grant recipient request the same items before the prescribed time set 

forth by the social service department in all their wisdom.  The most 

expensive item that the welfare department would allow and this was 

granted only in the most special of situations was an electric washing

machine.  To qualify for this top prize the family had to contain a 

certain number of children and adults.  When this criteria was met I 

would have to justify the cost to a supervisor by calculating the amount 

of money spent at the laundromat over a years time and then be able to

show the relative savings the social service department would experiance 

by providing said appliance.  I found out about this special washing 

machine grant by searching through the welfare manuals rather then 

being made aware of this by my supervisors.  But the real rub, the

bitter irony lay in the fact that the welfare department described 

the exact type and model of washing machine that would be granted 

in these extraordinary situations.  It was not a washer and drier 

combination that was allowed or even the white box like washer we 

are all accustomed to.  Rather it was prescribed that the grant 

recipient could only purchase the round tub type washer with a 

hand operated ringer on the top, similar to the ones that we might

see in an old magazine from the 1930s or 40s.  No welfare recipient 

would be allowed the trappings of a middle class appliance, no they 

had to have the stigma of an ancient throwback of a machine that 

would be more fitting to their station in life.