I wrote a paper in school about ancient myths using an old typewriter and by candle-light, wrapped up in a comforter that cold winter night, despite the propane heater in the dining room. All of our utilities were shut off for months, electric, gas, and water; we had no money. We were getting food-bank meals, and making our own candles out of reused wax. It felt pitiful, and in the days leading to my paper due date I was told repeatedly that it must be typed. The school library was closed before my last class ended, and we had some fines at the public one. Here's a myth I often hear, though not learned in school, party politics will say, "They wanted handouts."