Invisible Child: Poverty, Survival, and Hope in an American City

by Andrea Elliott

Every year, the children’s birthdays come in a mad springtime rush: Lee-Lee’s in March, Avianna’s in April, and the remaining six in the span of three and a half weeks. Expectations are calibrated based on where a birthday falls in the monthly cash flow. Those at the start of the month have high hopes, while those at the end of the month are luckless. So it goes for Avianna. Supreme hands her $11, a dollar for each year of her life. The next day, he asks for $5 back. She waits for a cake that never comes. Finally the children light two small candles. Like carolers, they hold the candles beneath Avianna’s face and sing. A week later, she takes her last dollar bill and folds it delicately, like a Japanese fan. She then places it inside a homemade card that Chanel opens on Mother’s Day. This year, birthday season collides with four of the children’s graduations. They need new outfits, and money for class photos. “Do you know how much time and thought goes into the hustle?” Chanel tells me. “You have to think it through.” By the time Dasani’s twelfth birthday comes, she tries to ignore it. She has already asked her mother to pay for a school trip to Washington. She will hold out for that, letting the birthday pass quietly.