Social worker Tammie Lovett spent an hour on Wednesday facing the challenges many of her clients experience every day.

Mounting utility bills, overdue rent and long lines to get assistance allotted her little time to care for two teenage children, who turned to dealing drugs to help with expenses.

It was only a simulation. But by the time it ended, Lovett and about 60 other participants took away a renewed perspective on Savannah's downtrodden.

"It was a valuable experience - it opens your eyes to that other side of the desk," said Lovett, a child protection services supervisor with the Department of Family and Children's Services, which organized the event.

"In our scenario, the son was having problems because the father left, and I wasn't able to address any of those problems. I just wanted the kids to have a place to stay and food to eat," she said.

Click here to find U.S. Census statistics of the number of people living in poverty in Savannah and other U.S. cities.

Organized by non-profits Step Up Savannah and Hands On Savannah, the poverty simulation - broken up into four, 15-minute "weeks" - assigned "families" hypothetical circumstances.

Stations - such as a child-care center, a pawn shop, a rent collection agency and a police department - were staffed by volunteers.

Lovett, assigned the name "Doris," played the role of a 31-year-old single mother whose husband had abandoned the family, leaving behind just $10.

The month started with snags.

Doris squandered her only transportation pass to get food stamps and financial aid, which wouldn't arrive until the end of the month.

Meanwhile, children "Dan," 14, and "Doris," 15, lamented classroom responsibilities in typical teenage fashion.

"School's a waste of time. I don't want to go back," griped Suzanne Taylor, who took the role of Dan, adding that school activities would cost the cash-strapped family $5.

The trio planned to pawn a camera. During the next 15-minute session, Doris applied for a receptionist job at the hospital.

The income, however, didn't arrive fast enough.

During the third week, a $120 bank loan was due, and Diane was expelled from school and had begun selling cocaine to make quick cash.

Elsewhere in the room, chairs were turned over to represent foreclosures.

Doris fortunes did improve in the final week: Assistance from family services came in time to pay rent, and food stamps were redeemed for groceries at the supermarket station.

Plus, she was hired at the hospital.

Cynthia Doctor, who played the role of Diane, knows such happy endings are rare in the real world.

"Over time, we see the same faces and tend to forget exactly what these people are going through," said Doctor, who has worked with family services for 20 years. "It brings me back to why I started working here in the first place."

After the simulation, participants - ranging from youngsters with the Chatham County Youth Commission to workers from furniture manufacturer IKEA - voiced observations and potential solutions.

"The drug dealers were the only people who seemed calm," remarked one person in the crowd, "and as a 15-year-old boy, that's very influential."

Carmelia Lowman, another participant, said she resorted to deception to make ends meet.

"I had to come up with creative ways to get the most out of my money," said Lowman, who, for instance, opted to withhold sources of income when applying for assistance. "People become more apt to doing things they wouldn't normally do.

"They're not bad people. They're just desperate, as I was during the simulation."