Dropping off Abby at school, I wonder about the wealth among the people that take their kids to school there.
These days, caring for a kid is not the cheapest of endeavors. They need clothes and food at minimum. Medical care is important. And the cost of daycare can be killer. So it's not really surprising that half of the cars in the parking lot at Abby's daycare school are a Lexus.
The thing I was noticing in particular on this icy morning is something about the other kinds of cars in the lot. Having spent a good ten minutes scraping the ice off of my car this morning, it occurred to me that even after all of that effort, the rest of my car (the non-glass parts) my car was still covered in a thing sheen of ice.
I looked around at the other cars in the lot and noticed that even the less expensive cars didn't exhibit this feature. The only other cars in the lot that were icy were the school's own minivans.From this, I can draw the conclusion that these folks probably all park their cars in garages. This is an interesting tidbit of knowledge to tuck away about the uppercrusty class that we've fallen in with while trying to get better daycare for our kid. It explains a lot about why I don't feel like I fit in with these people.
I know that there shouldn't be any real difference between people who have money and those who don't have a lot, but I'm wondering if that's just a weird lie that the slowly evaporating middle class tells themselves to keep from crying themselves to sleep. Socially, I'm not going to be involved with people of better means. I'm not even really interested in what they do socially. At the same time, I enjoy the civility that is present in their social circles.
Later on my drive to work (after passing a truly horrific ice-induced road accident) I stopped at the Wawa in town for my morning soda. All of the cars in the lot had unscraped ice on their hoods. There were guys standing in the lot in work clothes - overalls and boots - sucking down coffee and speaking in the local Mexican's broken Spanish. It's a completely different social stratum.
And then compare that to the Turkey Hill convenience store across town near my office- The people in there rarely bathe, hardly shave or style their hair, are often obviously the unfortunate victim of their mother drinking during pregnancy, and all too frequently stop for $5 of gas, a $3 pack of smokes, and $10 in lottery scratch-offs.
The more often I find myself stopping at Turkey Hill for their cheap and delicious personal pizzas, the more I wonder whether I am an honorary member of the social outcast group. Do I have any hope of hobnobbing with the "social elite" parents of the kids at Abby's school?
It's weird to think about because every so often the parents at Abby's school behave as though they can smell the Turkey Hill on me. "You've been messing around down with the low people again, haven't you?" And oddly, I'm not really thinking that way, about "low people".
I look at those people and think that it's unfortunate that we all don't have the same opportunities in life, but we all make of it what we can. Some choices I don't agree with (smoking, lottery as a lifestyle, lack of basic grooming) but those are so often the indicator of ones pride in himself. Is the point of failure the point when you give up trying to be better than what you are? Who decides what's better, anyway?
In the meantime, I worry that Abby's friends will want to play with Abby at home. And when the parents drop off their kids, they'll see the little home we've made - the one that we've done as best we can - and that'll be the last play date between their kid and Abby. At least, the last one that's at our house. The word will migrate around the "superior" social circles, and the sand will shift. Abby will have a new set of friends - one more appropriate to our means, but perhaps less appropriate to her aspirations.
I guess our new house had better have a two-car garage.
Did you ever see that commercial that the guy lives in a big house with a two car garage with two expensive cars, and a pool. He smiles through the whole commercial and says through the gritted tooth smile, "How can I afford all this? I'm in debt up to my eye balls." It's all about perception. Yeah, the sand may shift, but we've already seen what she's learning from some of these "friends" and maybe she's better off. When she finds one, she'll know what true friendship is. She's the only one who can limit her aspirations. Giving her a good set of values will help. And remind her of something I learned a long time ago--no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. (Eleanor Roosevelt)
I wasn't expecting a post like that, however it was scarily insightful and close to home for 95% of the population.
Al.
And this, sadly, is one of the reasons we don't go to our Sunday School class anymore. :|
You live a good life... your house is looking better than ever (I didn't even recognize the upstairs bathroom at first). The kids are happy and healthy. You're able to enjoy life, when opportunity presents (which is as about often as you let it).
Wanting leads to suffering, so they say. As long as you're happy, the rest doesn't really matter.
If I ever get my act together, I'm hoping to spend time helping out the people who need it. Who cares about the people socially above me? I need to help out everybody else. If anyone, these are the people holding society together.
I don't know how well these things translate for kids, but, at some point, reality sets in, no matter what you do.
We live in strange societies, where one third of the people are tourists in the habitat of the others. It is as if three different nations overlap in the same area. It was always like that of course, but I think the possibilities to really meet, are much better today, than fifty, hundred years ago.
Today your Abby works and plays with kids form other social environments, and the mix may cause some tension, but in the long run also understanding between those with icy cars and those with climate systems.
I hope :)
I wouldn't worry too much about Abby and her friends - kids don't put much stock into social status until after solid friendships have formed - after which it doesn't matter as much to them.
I went to a big highschool that had a wide cross section of society represented, from the very wealthy to the very poor, and while there was a correlation between people's social status and the crowds they hung out in(due to what elementary schools they went to,) there was just as much of a correlation between their last names (because lockers were assigned alphabetically)
Remember that just cause you have money, it doesn't make you a snob - you have to work at it :P
Wow. How interesting that this post should come on the heels of the one where I ogled enviously the photos of your lovely home.
But I can relate to that, to feeling like I identify more with a lower socioeconomic class than I technically am in. I've had this comment box open for twenty minutes because there's so much to say on the subject that I don't know where to start.
Thought-provoking entry, Owen...
Bingo! Thanks Mom!
My translation: we worry too much. (Of course, that's a pretty snide comment on the surface, despite attempting to be supportive.)
It's worth sparing a few nuerons on, I'd say, but not managing a "lifestyle" around.
Thanks Owen.
"I know that there shouldn’t be any real difference between people who have money and those who don’t have a lot, but I’m wondering if that’s just a weird lie that the slowly evaporating middle class tells themselves to keep from crying themselves to sleep."
The first thought I had was, are you sure about the aspect of equality in rich vs. poor? I think it's what we want, what we've been raised on as kids, what our entertainment endeavors to champion. It's not reality though.
I, myself, am the poorest a person can be, and yet still have a roof over my head. I work at a resort packed with the upper crust. There's a difference between us, in the joys of privilege if nothing else. I've seen Corvettes, Bentlies, etc, and there are homes here right off of a private airport with garages not only for their cars, but for their small planes.