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Jacinta Bunnell: Portrait Essay - Creatives Rebuild New York
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Jacinta Bunnell

A portrait of an artist. She is a smiling femme with wavy brown hair, blue eyes, wearing layers of knitted white garments studded with clear gems.
Photo credit: Claudia Maturell, Mars Abrahamsen

My name is Jacinta. I'm 52 years old, and I live in Stone Ridge, New York, with my partner Michael. I moved from Washington, D.C., to the Hudson Valley in 1995. I spent my entire childhood in rural Pennsylvania.

I wear many hats professionally. I managed a soup kitchen in D.C. as part of Brethren Volunteer Service. I have worked as an assistant elementary school teacher, a childcare provider, a home organizer, and as an educator for Planned Parenthood. I currently sell vintage items on Etsy and at a vintage mall in Kingston, NY. I have published six children’s books and work as a visual artist, selling paintings and doing projects by commission.

Before being selected for the Creatives Rebuild New York guaranteed income initiative, my monthly income was probably around $1,500. We have a relatively low cost of living, and my partner has a stable job. But financial stresses came up often enough — I was going through a lot of health issues, and we had many unexpected home expenses come up, like needing to replace our roof, build a new shed, repave our driveway, insulate our entire home, and install a water filtration system. There were definitely times we were racking up debt on credit cards. Although I’m fortunate to have a supportive partner, it often felt like we were in a massive chess game, always needing to think several moves ahead to avoid losing what we had worked so hard to build. That constant low-level financial pressure mixed with physical illness was very stressful.

A few years ago, I was diagnosed with a complex chronic illness called Mast Cell Activation Syndrome. It is a disorder that wasn’t well-defined until 2017, so it was challenging to find proper treatment. I was experiencing frequent fainting spells, dizziness, extreme nausea, and hives. When you have Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, your mast cells are overly responsive, causing a whole range of problematic symptoms. Just a year before CRNY, I had undergone a craniotomy after a CT scan revealed a mass on my brain, and I spent most of that year bedridden.

I heard about CRNY through a text message from a good friend I make art with. The application process was refreshingly accessible, especially for someone like me who didn’t attend art school or have a formal CV. When I found out I was selected, it felt like winning the lottery. I had to reread the email several times in order for it to sink in. It was such a different experience than other benefits I’ve utilized. When I was on Medicaid in my 30s, I remember feeling stigmatized by my doctor who would make passive-aggressive comments about my low income. In contrast, receiving guaranteed income felt like an honor and a celebration. No one celebrates you for going on Medicaid when you need it.

The impact of this guaranteed income on my life has been significant. For those 18 months, there was a sense of relief — my partner and I could breathe a little easier. The money allowed me to pursue medical treatments beyond what insurance covered, like acupuncture, physical therapy, and cranial-sacral therapy, which provided me substantial relief. I paid to see a mast cell disorder expert who was incredibly essential to my care plan, but who did not take my health insurance. I was also able to invest in healthy, incredible meals created around the dietary restrictions imposed by my illness through a wonderful LGBTQ-owned meal delivery service called Common Table. This alleviation of physical suffering and investment in caring for myself was such a gift.

I also invested in my art in significant ways. After the craniotomy, I couldn’t walk up the steps to my studio for several months, so I began creating fiber arts, which was something I could do on the couch. Then when the CRNY payments started, I invested more seriously in the fiber arts project by buying a large frame. This pushed me to build the project on a much bigger scale. I was also able to create an accompanying book and hire another artist to design it.

Receiving this money shifted my self-perception. I could contribute more equally to our household finances, which was important for my self-esteem. It also allowed me to be more expansive in my creative projects. For example, I started a project documenting the experiences of people who grew up as latchkey kids, bringing together a community to share their stories. I put all the stories together in a book and had a reading where people shared their stories. I started a Substack newsletter called Latchkey Township. Finding community as adults was so moving for those who had shared this similar childhood experience and people who hadn’t necessarily gone through the same thing walked away with more understanding and empathy.

In my experience, this guaranteed income program didn’t discourage work — it fueled creativity and motivation. I’ve seen many recipients, including myself, start new projects and become more industrious. Artists often have the ability to make something big with limited resources to begin with; it’s the nature of the creative brain. If artists receive a tool like money, they are going to be as expansive as they possibly can. CRNY’s support was like a fuel to do more — fill the room, think more expansively, and be more industrious. If we had a program like this for everyone who needed it, I believe we’d have a happier, healthier society with less stress.

As a feminist, I’m deeply drawn to the concept of guaranteed income because it embodies the principles of intersectionality, community building, and mutual aid. It’s not just about individual financial stability — it’s shifting our focus to caring for one another and creating a more equitable society. It’s about building a giant umbrella to keep us all safe from unpredictable storms.

 

Essay by Jacinta Bunnell


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