Nearly 1 in 3 experiencing poverty in New Hampshire are disabled, NHFPI study finds
(New Hampshire Fiscal Policy Institute screenshot)
People with disabilities make up nearly a third of New Hampshire's impoverished, according to a new study from the New Hampshire Fiscal Policy Institute.
The study, by researcher Jessica Williams, also examined other demographic groups more affected by poverty.
In total, around 7.2% of people in New Hampshire were impoverished in 2023, according to the study. That's 98,000 people — more than the populations of Claremont, Concord, Laconia, and Portsmouth combined. Almost 20,000 of those were children.
Among people identifying as Hispanic and Latino in the state, the poverty rate is nearly double: 13.8%, or about 8,250, the study found, using a five-year average ending 2023. Black people had a poverty rate of 11.2 percent (2,170 people) while Asian and non-Hispanic white people had rates of 6.1% (2,110) and 6.7% (79,780), respectively. People identifying as two or more races had a poverty rate of 10% (7,400 people). White people, because they're the majority, comprised 82.7% of New Hampshire's impoverished.
Families with more children, who likely have more expenses and higher poverty thresholds, were more likely to be living in poverty. Based on five-year averages ending in 2023, New Hampshire families without any related children experienced a poverty rate of about 2.6%, according to the study. Those with one or two children experienced almost double that: 6.5%. Meanwhile, families with three or four related children had a poverty rate of 9.7 percent, almost four times the rate of families with no related children.
Families with single mothers were 18 times more likely to experience poverty than families with married parents. More than 1 in 4 such families experienced poverty, while about 13% of single-father families experienced poverty, according to the study.
Coos and Sullivan counties, rural parts of New Hampshire, experienced the highest poverty rates from 2019 to 2023 in the state: 12.9% and 10.8%, respectively, per the study. Hillsborough and Rockingham counties had the largest total number of impoverished people due to their larger population sizes, but they experienced the state's lowest poverty rates during that five-year period, at 6.9% and 4.8%, respectively.
The study used the federal government's Official Poverty Measure as the threshold to define poverty. For the contiguous U.S., that was $15,852 for a single person under 65 years old, $24,526 for a family of three with one child, and $30,900 for a family of four with two children in 2023.
Those interested in reading more, can visit www.nhfpi.org/resource/who-is-experiencing-poverty-in-the-granite-state/ online.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
3 hours ago
- Yahoo
Juneteenth celebrations start as honor unveiled at historic Johnstown church
JOHNSTOWN, Pa. – On the corner of Haynes Street and Menoher Boulevard is a church founded by a group of Black Civil War veterans who moved from Maryland to Johnstown for work in 1873. It relocated a few times through its 153-year history, but now First Cambria AME Zion Church, 409 Haynes St., has taken its place on the National Register of Historic Places. A plaque showing the designation was unveiled Friday during a ceremony that began with prayer and singing among a group of about 50 people gathered in the church. The ceremony honoring the church also marked the start of Johnstown's Juneteenth celebrations through June 19. NAACP Johnstown Branch President Alan Cashaw said honoring the history of First Cambria AME Zion Church was a 'proper and respectful' beginning to the Juneteenth holiday observation. The men who founded First Cambria AME Zion Church in 1873 worked in a tannery in Johnstown's Woodvale section and worshipped in the loft of the tannery before outgrowing it. 'Our ancestors took hard jobs like working in the tannery and the steel mill for us to be in Johnstown,' Cashaw said. The church was added to the registry in April based on its associations with moments of historical, national significance. In 1923, during the Rosedale incident, when a deadly shooting of police officers sparked an ordered banishment of Black and Mexican people from Johnstown, the pastor of First Cambria AME Zion spoke to the community, 'calling for peace beyond the unrest and fear,' said Barbara Zaborowski, of Pennsylvania Highlands Community College. Zaborowski led the application process and gave a presentation Friday. Again in 1969, when a white officer shot Timothy Perkins, a young Black man in Johnstown, 'the church stepped up and called for calmer heads, and helped avoid additional violence,' Zaborowski said. Cashaw and African-American Heritage Society member Bruce Haselrig shared lesser-known parts of the church's importance as a pillar of the community. When Cashaw was a Greater Johnstown High School senior in 1969, he led a school walkout, he said – to the church – after the principal prohibited students from wearing dashikis, clothing important to African American culture. In 1984, Haselrig said, the church helped form the Johnstown Minority Scholars Club to raise awareness of academic excellence among minority students. 'It's always been a community church,' Haselrig said. 'The building is being honored, but it's because of the things that happened here, the pastors, the leaders, the families.'
Black America Web
4 hours ago
- Black America Web
Black Culture, White Face: How the Internet Helped Hijack Our Culture
Source: We see the great white heist that is continuing to happen in the White House, but we missed another hijacking right at our fingertips. Black culture hasn't just set the tone; it's the creator of it. From fashion to food, music to memes, the soul of what we now broadly call 'American culture' is actually a siphoning system. A system that has modernized its extraction of Black creativity, voices, and flavor, only to repackage it, sterilize it, and serve it back to the world, sans credit or context. This modern-day cultural hijacking didn't start with TikTok or X, formerly Twitter. It began in earnest when the internet first offered Black millennials and Xennials the opportunity to be heard on their own terms. For the first time in history, young Black people were able to bypass traditional gatekeepers and broadcast their lives, their humor, and their hearts. Message boards, early YouTube, and social platforms like Blackplanet, MySpace, Tumblr, Facebook, and eventually Instagram became digital cookouts—public yet intimate gatherings where our inside jokes, slang, family dynamics, and generational quirks were put on display, not for mass consumption, but for communal oneness. Unfortunately, the cookout didn't stay private. Without the gatekeeping wisdom of our elders—you know, who taught us what goes on in this house, stays in this house—we threw open the doors of the culture, posting everything from grandma's peach cobbler recipe to the exact tone of our mothers' 'don't touch nothing in this store' warning. We uploaded our sacred, nuanced, and deeply specific experiences for laughs, likes, and validation, not realizing the internet has no context, care, or conscience—only consumers. And consume, they did. The vitality of the content and the influence of our voices fed the machine that doesn't care that 'Black people be like…' was an inside joke for overcoming code switching, while passing down cultural survival and the ability to stand with joy in the face of oppression; it just cared that it was funny and millions of others thought so too. So the shared experiences of a group of people who have always had to push through quickly became memes and stereotypes for the masses, turning what we used to affirm us into trends that started to erase us. Because here's the gag: when Black people say 'Black people be like,' it's a nod to our shared rhythm, our inherited wit, our ancestors, and our community codes. When white creators mimic it, it becomes Blackface, a costume or cosplay rooted in caricature, not kinship, and that is the real danger of giving them a peek into intimate Black culture. Cultural expression void of cultural understanding becomes cultural theft, and while the old adage goes, 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,' what we've witnessed is not flattery; it's flattening. It's a long-standing practice in white America's history of not assimilating or integrating, but absorbing and erasing. Extracting what's valuable, profitable, and cool, while discarding the people who produced it. But this isn't new. From Jazz, Blues, Rock and Roll, Hip-Hop, we've seen this play of culture jacking before; but the internet has accelerated, gentrified and commercialized the process in such a rapid way that it's becoming hard to keep up. In today's social media economy, white influencers lip-sync Black vernacular and at times even cosplay as being Black or bi-racial, all while amassing millions of followers and brand deals. Meanwhile, the Black originators are flagged, shadowbanned, or worse, copied without acknowledgment. Even our most sacred colloquialisms—terms like 'woke,' 'period,' or 'it's giving'—have been repurposed in white mouths and have now been rendered meaningless or mockable, with AAVE now being labeled as Gen Z slang. Our pain turned into punchlines as our cultural currency is laundered and redistributed, without us seeing a dime. But per usual, it's strategic. Hijacking Blackness becomes a way to eliminate the very markers that make us distinct, powerful, and proud. When whiteness wears Blackness like a costume, it is not trying to understand us; it's inherently trying to replace us. It's digital gentrification. Just as they take the neighborhoods our ancestors built and rename them while attempting to hush the very soul that brought them to the area, they've taken the internet blocks we made vibrant and claimed them as their own. What we are witnessing is the slow bleaching of the Black Internet, and it's time we admit our part in it, too. In our quest for visibility, we mistook exposure for equity, confused virality with validation, and uploaded everything under the guise of finally being heard, but it came at the cost of context and control. For those old enough to understand, we have entered an age in society where 'culture' is no longer tethered to the people who created it, and if we're not careful, our stories will be remixed, redacted, and retold by those who were never meant to tell them in the first place. So, where do we go from here? As a community, we have to become better stewards of our cultural inheritance. That means reinvesting in Black platforms, protecting our digital spaces, and not being so quick to make our culture content on their platforms so specific. That means teaching the younger generations that not everything is for everybody while reinforcing that some things still belong in the house. Because if we don't gatekeep, they will. So the next time you see a viral 'Black people be like…' meme or viral Black sound bites used by someone who doesn't look like us, remember this isn't just about jokes. It's about protection, because culture is not just what we create, it's what we preserve. And Black culture deserves to remain ours. SEE ALSO: New African American Dictionary: Homage Or Appropriation? When Outsiders Speak Freely About The Black Community SEE ALSO Black Culture, White Face: How the Internet Helped Hijack Our Culture was originally published on Black America Web Featured Video CLOSE
Boston Globe
4 hours ago
- Boston Globe
When MLK studied in Boston, he joined a Black fraternity. A plaque will highlight this hidden history.
This milestone in King's life will be memorialized in a plaque unveiling ceremony at the very spot in Boston where the civil rights icon joined Alpha Phi Alpha. Located at 14 Wabon St. in Grove Hall, the memorial will build upon ongoing efforts to make Boston a larger part of the Kings' legacy, and, hopefully, remind passersby of the rich 'It's our jobs as Black folk to chronicle our history,' said Advertisement The ceremony will take place on June 18, the 72nd wedding anniversary of King and Coretta Scott King. It's the latest in a citywide effort to cement the Kings' presence in Boston. Advertisement Last year, Clennon King and a collection of community members secured a headstone for of Music student who introduced the couple. In 2023, another memorial commemorating the young couple's The Fraternity hopefuls on bid day 1952 for the Sigma Chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity at Boston University. John H. Bustamante is in the first row left and Martin Luther King Jr. in in the front row on the right. Bustamante Family But Clennon King said the forthcoming memorial will orient King's legacy away from downtown Boston, and back towards the heart of Boston's Black community. He cut his teeth as a minister at the historic Twelfth Baptist Church that was then on Shawmut Avenue. He satiated his cravings for home-cooked meals here. He lived here. '[King] was baptized out of that neighborhood,' said Clennon King, who is not related to the civil rights leader. However, his father, C. B. King, represented the Rev. King during the Albany Movement, a yearlong civil rights campaign in the small Georgia city. The Grove Hall neighborhood that 14 Wabon St. lies in is steeped in local significance. Years after King resettled back south, this corridor of Boston became the site of a The house itself also encapsulates a long gone chapter in Boston history, which Lauren B. Martin considers deeply personal. It was the family home of her father, Advertisement 'Those kinds of spirits and memories linger in that space,' Martin said. King arrived in Boston in 1951 to study theology at Boston University, and settled in a city remarkably different from his beloved Atlanta. He found community among the churches, restaurants, and businesses inhabited by Black folks in Roxbury and the South End, but the Black population was smaller. At this point, King was not a household name, Clennon King said. 'He was just a number, just another student.' The plaque also underscores the legacy of Alpha Phi Alpha and the National Pan-hellenic Council, or When you look back at photos of King, he was surrounded by Divine Nine giants. Andrew Young is an Alpha. The Rev. Ralph Abernathy was a member of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity Inc. Coretta Scott King later became an honorary member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Inc., the country's first Black sorority. 'Everything [King] did was to leave a legacy for his children and the people around him,' Asirifi said. 'You don't seek an organization like Alpha if you don't want to be a part of a larger community.' King attended an Alpha recruitment mixer on nearby Ruthven Street, at his future line brother's grandparents' home. They crossed through the fraternity's Sigma Chapter at Baron H. Martin's home. Advertisement Dues card for Martin Luther King Jr.'s Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity membership. Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, Gift of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. As a doctoral student, King was older than his line brothers and became a big brother figure for some. 'My dad never said it, but you could tell from his voice how much he admired [King],' said Myra Hemingway, the daughter of There is at least one moment in writing that details King's experiences as a pledge. In a 2018 Globe interview, Baron H. Martin recalled bringing the young Alpha pledges to his Wabon Street house to paint a fence. King refused. 'He pointed out that he was a minister ... and he wouldn't do it,' the late judge recalled. Not wanting to be bested by the pledge, Martin disciplined King the way many frats historically have. He grabbed his wooden paddle. 'I hit him so hard — one smack [on the behind]," Martin recalled. 'You can't do that anymore.' Related : MLK's seven line brothers formed lasting legacies in their own right. Herman Hemingway, at the top left in the phot, opened his own law practice and, under Mayor Kevin White, served as founding director for the city's Office of Human Rights. He is memorialized at Hemingway had paved his own way, so much so that Myra, his daughter, said he didn't fully acknowledge his title as MLK's line brother until people behind the civil rights leader's monument in Washington, D.C. began reaching out for interviews. Herman died in 2020, so Myra considers the upcoming memorial as bittersweet. Advertisement 'He really loved his fraternity and the support they gave him through the brotherhood over the years meant so much to him,' Myra said. 'It's hard that he's not here, but in spirit, I know he's looking down and smiling.' The Grove Hall residence where King became an Alpha is a hotbed of not only Black Boston history, but also rampant change. No matter who lives on the block, the people at the center of the forthcoming plaque hope the stories of the people who once frequented the area are a permanent part of the block's story. 'Things are going to change, people are going to change neighborhoods,' Lauren B. Martin said. 'But hopefully these markers gives the new neighborhood a reference and an understanding of how we're all related.' Tiana Woodard can be reached at
