Clarence’s Story
An immigrant, Clarence moved to the United States as a child, received a wonderful education and had terrific jobs as a young man, before his life fell apart as a combination of work insecurity and mental illness invaded his life and led to homelessness. By the age of 37, Clarence, a college graduate and after having worked as a paralegal at several of the most prestigious law firms in the city, could no longer afford his apartment and was living in a shelter in New York City. Clarence is rebounding now. Here’s his story, in his own words:
(To protect Clarence’s privacy, his real name is not being used, nor are the names of the schools he attended or his places of employment.)
Clarence's Early Days …
I was born in 1979. I am now 44 years old.
I have pretty fond memories of my childhood. Then, it was just me and my brother (My younger siblings were born later in the U.S.). I remember the house where we grew up in, in the city, it was pretty carefree. I recall living in a stone-like house with about 1 or 2 stories. There was a lot of space for us to run around.
My father would drive us to school every morning before work and pick us up after, in front of the school. The teachers and headmistress were very strict and used corporal punishment as a way to maintain order.
One vivid memory I have from school was this ditch or like a small moat in front of the school. Kids would challenge each other to jump over the ditch. Yeah, I know … kids. I think a few kids fell in, but of course it wasn’t that deep. I think I jumped over a few times, when I worked up the nerve.
I remember going to my uncle’s house. I think he had a farm. I remember animals all over the place, chickens particularly. I remember the last time we were there, there was a big bonfire, a big celebration. I can only assume that that was a send off for us coming here.
My mom was a homemaker and my dad was a radiation therapist.
He was not a doctor. He was a therapist, who helped patients who were getting treatment for cancer. He worked for a university. He would assist with the administering and the care of these patients who were taking chemo and various other types of treatment for their cancer.
We came to the U.S. permanently in 1987, so my father could continue his education and also to give us a better life. My father attended college in the U.S. to get a PhD in radiation oncology.
We lived in Morningside Heights.
My dad was older and had trouble finding work. I think he did a stint at a hospital in northern Manhattan. The main thing was that he was overqualified. So we struggled a bit, moved up to the Bronx. He tried to find work wherever he could. He did odd jobs, doing tax prep for a while. He was a very, very smart man.
Getting An Education …
For high school, I went to a prestigious boarding school.
I enjoyed it. But, you know, the real truth is, I went away to get away from my parents, particularly my mom. She was very strict and our relationship was marked with a lot of friction.
In my culture, corporal punishment is something that is a regular thing. There were times when I felt she was, emotionally, more verbally abusive and we just had different ideas. They wanted to preserve the native culture in the house. And by that point, I had already assimilated to American life and didn’t subscribe to many things in an original immigrant upbringing. It’s a regular clash
and a theme amongst first and second generation immigrant families. It’s the same idea, just a clash of cultures.
The child was never supposed to challenge the parent in our culture. It just doesn’t happen, so it was looked on by parents as taboo.
But I didn’t make the most of my time at boarding school, because I didn’t necessarily go there for the right reasons. I could have used it as a springboard to an elite college, as other kids did.
I graduated in 1997 and then attended and graduated from a liberal arts college.
I knew for a fact that I wasn’t ready for college life, because in high school, we were very sheltered away from all sorts of things, socio-economic issues, race relations, very sheltered, in a bubble. In college, a lot of those things are vivid, on display, sort of in your face and you can’t really hide from it and I wasn't really ready for that experience.
I studied political science and government and graduated in 2001.
Becoming A Professional Paralegal …
(Clarence worked as a paralegal at four of the most prestigious law firms in New York City. The names have been expunged to protect Clarence’s privacy.)
I had worked as a summer intern at the Law Firm #1, and I ended up getting my first job there after college, working as a paralegal. They hired me on the spot. I was 21 years old.
I worked in litigation. In the beginning, it was kind of slow, because I didn’t have any technical training as a paralegal. So I learned on the job. After that, my career kind of took off and I was working on a lot of big cases and helping attorneys, partners, with cases going to trial. I had a lot of trial work, which was great. I enjoyed that.
I worked as a paralegal for 18 years. The most important tasks included cite checking legal briefs and preparing for trial. When it came to trial, just about every task was important. From creating exhibits and exhibit lists to creating said exhibits to deposition designations, it was all part of the pressure cooker that is trial and trial preparation.
In my years of experience as a paralegal, I must have cite checked hundreds of legal briefs. At some firms that seemed to be all I did (trying to stay gainfully employed, as most other paras didn’t know how to cite check and Blue Book). I loved this task. It made me feel like I was actually having an impact on the legal process other than organizing papers in various different arrangements.
As a junior high student, before going to boarding school, I was in a program which exposed inner city kids to the corporate legal experience. A lot of my summer jobs were linked to this program. That’s how I kind of got my foot in the door and met some of these attorneys, who later were willing to hire me.
One case at Law Firm #1 stands out in my memory, because it was a pretty major case. It was about competitive advertising. The case involved proprietary information and trademark. I have very vivid memories of what that case was about, because it was one of the main cases that I had. I had a lot of responsibility.
After about 3 1/2 years, I went to work at a large entertainment company. My sister, who was in the business, kind of blinded me with the Hollywood Lights. My job was labeled as a paralegal position, but it really was just like a glorified assistant or secretary’s position in the Business and Legal Affairs Department.
I realized I enjoyed and belonged in the law firm setting, going to court, working on cases that are adversarial.
So, after about nine months, I left my job at the entertainment company for another law firm position. And then every couple of years I would go to another law firm.
I worked at Law Firm #2 in the intellectual property practice group ... and then after two years, I went to work at Law Firm #3, another well-known international law firm. All my jobs were in New York City.
I would stay at these firms for two to three years. I worked with lawyers who specialized in intellectual property. I did a little bit of copyright and trademark infringement stuff, but the main work was on patents. That appealed to me because it was highly specific. I thought I was gaining more knowledge, more valuable experience and the experience was really what translated into dollars and cents going forward. I was recruited by headhunters to move to another firm to work in IP. Every time I went to another firm, I’d get a jump in salary, which was, you know, the real reason I was going, why I worked for so many firms. I was making high five figures. At times there was some friction with coworkers, but the main reason is when I realized that, ok, well, if I go to this firm, I’m gonna get more responsibility, more experience and make more money, which was more alluring to me than sort of sticking it out with any one firm.
Eventually, I was hired at yet another prestigious law firm, Firm #4. At this firm, that’s where the buck stopped.
You know, this is where I have some regrets. I feel like even though I worked at a bunch of these great firms, if I had just stayed at Law Firm #1, which was kind of like a home base, because I worked there as a student, I might have been able to write my own ticket. The sky was the limit at the time. I just didn’t have the vision to see it.
So I was doing general intellectual property as a paralegal at Law Firm #4. But it began to turn me off at that firm. I began to notice that I wasn’t welcome in a big firm setting. A lot of these places are very traditional, very upper class, white collar. And I don’t know if I could call it a caste system, but there is definitely a hierarchy.
I guess it was about 2010. These firms were still reeling from 2008. The crash and their restructure. They started hiring temps and they didn’t have to pay health benefits. They didn’t even have to pay you a competitive wage.
Starting To Go Downhill …
And during this time at Law Firm #4, I felt like I was out of my league. The lawyers had Harvard and Yale pedigrees and even though I went to a good high school and college, I wasn’t of that pedigree. The pressure built. I began having panic attacks and, eventually, I took a leave of absence. I took a few, actually. And one of the stipulations for me to continue being absent was that I had to take medication. So I saw a therapist. I was taking medication and still being functionally depressed, so every time I came back, something else would happen. Eventually, I was let go.
Then the only available work was temping. I couldn’t get another permanent paralegal position. It was all temping, through 2016, at law firms, at a hospital, for an hourly wage, not the type of salary I had been making. I took a severe pay cut and didn’t have health benefits.
I was and am single and I was living on my own. I had a one-bedroom apartment when I was a law firm employee. But with temp work, I made less money and could no longer afford that. I downsized to just renting a room in an apartment.
I wasn’t on any prescribed medications, but I would self medicate. Instead of taking medication, I would smoke pot and that made me feel better. But at the same time, it fed into my depression, because there was a lot of isolation. My life has been marked pretty much with me sitting in a room when I’m not working or when I’m not doing something constructive. Just me sitting in a room with four walls, you know, whether it’s a room in an apartment or a one-bedroom apartment that I had when I had the apartment to myself. I was basically just sitting in a room existing, not really living. And so I would say that’s probably why I never really got into a lot of serious trouble, because I didn’t do anything. I didn’t go anywhere. I just stayed at home.
My depression got worse. I think I had it for many years, but work was an outlet for that. Because I was good at my work, I wasn’t seeking help.
This goes back to my childhood, when there was friction between my parents and me. I was depressed and I would kind of lash out at times and I just wasn’t getting the proper treatment that I needed. There was a big stigma on mental health and the process. I didn’t want to take medication. I didn’t want to be seen as that type of person.
So a lot of my feelings and depression were very private. I didn’t necessarily tell anyone that I was suffering from depression while I was working, trying to build my career.
Doing the temp work, my salary was a lot less, so things changed and there was kind of an upheaval to my experience. It went from, you know, living by myself, having disposable income, to really being on a tight leash and being only able to afford a room in someone else’s apartment.
During this time, around 2014, my situation was made even worse because of a serious health scare. My appendix burst. I went to the ER and they cut me open, emergency surgery. There were complications. I tried to fight it with antibiotics over a number of months. They cut me open again.
I was borderline diabetic, morbidly obese, all these things. My sugar was out of control. I had to take medication for high cholesterol, hypertension. This eventually evolved into type 2 diabetes, along with severe depression.
From when I lost my job at Law Firm #4 until present day, I’ve been in and out of therapy and on multiple medications.
I had so many temp jobs I can’t remember them all. One of them was in a hospital. I was able to use my paralegal skills in different ways. One of them was in organizing disorganized information, in a tangible way for future use. I would create a database, or make certain documents searchable. I did a lot of that type of stuff for various companies, some of them were law firms, but a lot of them were other organizations, like a hospital.
In these temp jobs, I was hired for a certain amount of time at a certain hourly rate and that was non-negotiable. When my temp jobs ended, I would go on unemployment until I got another temp job. But then in 2016, my temp jobs ended for good. With my depression and the poor job market, I was unable to get another temp job.
Forced Into A Shelter …
I had unemployment, but then that ran out. I had no income and was forced to move to a shelter. I have very strong memories of the day I went into the shelter system. It was a Saturday, my 37th birthday. In the morning, I finished packing my two bags and a backpack. I had already put the majority of my stuff in storage. There was some leftover furniture of mine, which I was able to leave for a later pickup. I left at some point in the evening to head downtown to the male intake shelter, located at 30th street and First Avenue in Manhattan.
For some reason or other, I wasn’t scared or even sad. I think I just felt indifferent. When I got to the shelter, I was checked into the “system” with a photo and fingerprints. I was then stuck in this waiting room with some others waiting to get assigned a bed. This is when my brother called to wish me a happy birthday. Needless to say, it was a melancholy phone call. He didn’t express
much discernable emotion either. He was more transactional than emotional and the phone call was marked with many awkward silences. I had been estranged from my family for some time prior to this and during most of my shelter stay.
After being shuffled around to various shelters in Manhattan, I was transferred to a hotel/shelter in the Bronx, where I would stay for about 6-7 months. I had about 4-5 roommates during this time. All my relationships with roommates eventually ended up in friction. Not exactly beefs or fighting, but just strong disagreements. Who controls the AC? Who controls the TV? I had only one roommate whom I was cool with. We were roommates for a good few months and whereas we didn't interact much until closer to the end, there was no animosity with him.
As this hotel/shelter was also overflow for recently released inmates, there was always an element of danger. I navigated this by minding my own business and not holding eye contact with other “clients” (that’s what we homeless individuals were referred to as).
The one very difficult part was food. Some recently-released inmates identified it as prison food. That’s what we were fed living in the shelter. I do remember a huge box of apples that no one touched. So I always had a collection of 10-12 apples on deck, and I didn’t even like apples then. To eat, I used my Snap benefits (food stamps) and public assistance cash to get creative with cold food and some hot food where they accepted Snap.
It was a working shelter, which meant you were supposed to work. I took classes and got a job working for a car rental company as a driver at JFK.
l did that for a couple of months. It wasn’t practical, because it took me four hours to get there and get back. A couple of times I got there - it was kind of like on a first come, first serve basis in terms of who would get the work. There were a number of times when I got there and they didn’t have work for me. I tried to find other types of work and I still had a few contacts in terms of head hunters in the legal world.
When I lived in a different shelter, in Queens, I got a job working at an entertainment company, in the contracts department. Because I had been a paralegal, they assigned me to review old contracts. I was in the shelter for the first 3 weeks or a month until I got my first paycheck or two. I had a decent roommate at the time. There was a homeless services office close to my job, so we would commute together in the morning. That was nice. It felt more like a friendship. Especially because he was an artist as well. He was just a mild mannered Indian guy. We kept in touch after I left the shelter via Facebook.
But, unfortunately, regarding the job at the entertainment company, I felt I was out of my league, and my depression was getting worse and worse. And so it all kind of came to a head. I quickly
realized that I was not qualified for the job and I tried to communicate that to the people who worked there. They weren’t interested in hearing that. They were like, “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll get it.” I was reviewing important contracts regarding my employer trying to collect residual fees and royalties that were owed. I was supposed to read these contracts and find the text where it discussed compensation. My boss every day would ask, “Did we get the money?” And I’m like, “I told you, I don’t know what I’m doing here.” That was stressful, that made the depression worse. I broke down very quickly. And so I was actually fired from that temp job.
I had started an application for disability, because my mental health symptoms were so severe. I felt like I couldn’t function at a job and this job was sort of like Exhibit A to that claim.
This was 2018, six years ago. My disability benefits began in 2020. I haven’t had a paid job since.
I was homeless for about a year, living in shelters.
Clarence's New Start …
Six months ago, I saw the line outside Broadway Community (BC) for the soup kitchen. I came in and asked about volunteer work. I applied and got the job working in the computer lab, three days a week, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I primarily assist BC clients with resume building and general computer skills and literacy.
There was a time when I wasn’t able to even fathom working, because I was so down. Now, I’ve kind of been lifted up a little bit and I might be ready, but I’m still hesitant. So this has been a good experience so far working at BC.
Right now I live uptown. I’m renting a room from a guy. I’ve been there for five years. This is the longest I’ve ever lived in any one place. Everyone gets along and I pretty much just kind of stay in my room and work on myself through therapy and work at BC.
Since 2014 or 2015, I have been seeing various private therapists through a free clinic. I now see one of these therapists two times a week.
We came to the conclusion I was on too many meds. From four different psych meds, we’ve reduced it to two. I have come to the conclusion that I’m no longer depressed, at least in my current state. There’s a lot of trepidation about going back to work, because there’s so many triggers there, just for any human being working, even without mental health problems. But I still don’t know if my symptoms are gonna flare up again.
I was estranged from my family for a long time and I was glad to reconnect before my dad passed away. I was able to go back to my country of birth for the first time. So a lot of poignant events happened since I reconnected with my family in 2019. That helped mark my improvement.
I think the ship has sailed for me regarding going to law school.
I was also a part-time musician while I was working. Making music and performing was my true passion. I also dabbled in music production and sound engineering, all self-taught. I started by freestyling (improvisation) at school during lunchtime. In college, I actually attempted to write structured rhymes and I felt good about it. It was an outlet from stress, sadness and depression.
After college, I formed a group with my brother. (Yes, the same brother who called me the day I went to the shelter.) Those music days were better times. We made three albums and had one performance at a well-known club in New York in 2003 or so. My sister was responsible for getting us that show.
After the group, I had a brief solo career. All in all, between both, there are about 76 songs that were written and recorded. I rest my hat on that as an accomplishment, even though we never got signed to a record label.
Art is another love of mine. I was an artist and I feel like what I’m doing now is like, I’m trying to get back into one of those, well, not music, because that ship also has sailed. But I am thinking of taking art classes. I draw. I use black and white pencil or colored pencil, but I’m trying to take a pastels class, because I haven’t used that medium before, and I like how the finished product looks. It’s like a painting, even though it’s not a painting.
I think with the right instruction, I think I can probably do well. I have a lot of projects that I want to work on. Solo projects on my own.
Art classes are affordable. It’s on a month to month basis. I’m gonna sign up soon. I’m just sort of a little nervous. I feel a little overwhelmed, because I think my skills have diminished and that’s sort of causing a slight crisis for me, because another thing I used to hang my hat on was being talented in music and art.
And I feel like my brain has changed. My brain chemistry. Before, when I was working, stressed and depressed, I drew on my melancholy for my motivation to go out and really excel at whatever I was working on, whether it was at a job or if it was a piece of art or music, I drew from that sort of despair. And now that’s not really there anymore. So I’m kind of lost. I was so overconfident back then. Now, I’m under confident. I really have a hard time believing in myself.
One thing I learned in this whole journey is that I kind of skew negative, because of what I’ve gone through and that the vision that I used to talk about is not there. To be perfectly honest, I never thought that I’d be alive today with the depression. I didn’t think I would be alive past thirty. So this is all kind of like a bonus for me. But I don’t know what’s gonna happen next. I just, I’m kind of like in limbo, you know what I mean? And so I’m trying to do some things to make improvements in my life.
In therapy, I’m trying to develop proper coping skills. It feels like I was depressed for so long that I almost don’t know how to function without it. I was functioning with it for so long and actually, I don’t know if I would call it thriving, but at least in work, I was, I was doing my favorite work. I had these talents on the side. I was, you know, I was engaged in life. Now, I feel like I’m just floating in the air. But things, objectively, are better than they have been for a long time. I just have to develop new coping skills and, you know, make sure that if I do go back to work or something like that, that it will stick and I won’t relapse, you know, and become depressed again.
I try to keep my spirits up with family and siblings. I was estranged for a long time. A lot of bitter feelings. I think my siblings and my parents kinda understand why I acted the way I did back then. There’s been a lot of forgiveness, the ability to mend fences. The family component is very important for stability. It’s a support system. One thing I never had while I was just working and self medicating, I never had a good solid support system. And now it’s like they are my cheer team, the clinic and my family and especially my younger brother, with his family and his young kids. I’m an uncle and it’s always great over there. Yeah, every time I come over, the kids go crazy, because it’s like, Mommy and Daddy are too strict and then this guy is coming over just to have fun with us. It’s very enriching. I just try to focus on that kind of stuff.
I feel better than I have in a long time. I’m thinking of applying for a job. It makes me nervous, but I think I will do it.