Hallway to Nowhere

Tag: privilege

  • Social Life? What’s THAT?

    Before Covid-19 hit, I was a facsimile of a functional human. I attended meetings of all kinds, frequent protests, and…actually had a SOCIAL LIFE. GASP! Yes, for pretty much the first time in my freaking life, I was doing things that I had always read about: I visited other people on a regular basis; friends came to hang out with me; and I even occasionally-can you believe it-had dinner parties! I went to restaurants, a play every now and then, shopped at the farmers market for produce for great produce AND to catch up on all the local haps, and loved to browse in all the downtown shops (spent a fair amount of change there, too.)

    Now this has all come to an abrupt and full stop. All meetings are done via Zoom. I did attend ONE protest for BLM in Abingdon after the shooting of George Floyd; most participants wore masks and social-distanced, EXCEPT for the police present. (My first and last in-person event. Unless the election goes badly. Then I’ll figure F-it. And join others. Democracy being at stake is worth it, yeah?) But other than ONE steadfast friend who has remarkably wonderfully decided that I shouldn’t be subjected to transit during this time, I see no-one. And really wouldn’t HEAR from anyone, except for this friend and one other friend who calls every day. Everyone else has dropped away, unless I call them. Which I try NOT to do anymore, really. Because one, it feels intrusive now. And two, it gets exhausting having to be the one always doing this. And I’m getting tired of trying when the effort doesn’t seem to be returned. It takes me awhile to learn, y’all, but eventually I DO learn what you are trying to tell me without actually telling me, yeah? So I’ll stop. Sorry for the bother.

    It’s all digital now (for me, at least), folks! Friends are electric! Since I don’t DRIVE and don’t have a YARD, I don’t get to participate in the new version of what social life is now. Friends tell me about dinner parties held outdoors and trips to the new Barter-at-the -Moonlite. This all sounds delightful. I’m happy folks are finding ways to cope. But another friend who lives in an apartment, who doesn’t drive, and who makes minimum wage and I were discussing this. Society seems to be drawing even more lines right now, and the stark differences between those who are privileged and those who aren’t get made clearer and clearer. (As if we couldn’t see them before!)

    I appreciate everyone who has reached out via text or on FB to inquire about the well-being of Miss P! As you know, SHE is more important to me than me. So that means more than I can say. So thank you all for caring about the well-being of this beautiful whippet! I love you all for that. And for the tangible gifts as well: the St. Francis medal (and a whole order nuns to pray for her!); the mishaberachs; a snuggly sheepskin rug; home-cooked meals; and an in-person priestly blessing!

    https://youtu.be/22Z4Tv1zn-shttps://youtu.be/22Z4Tv1zn-s

  • Reflections On A Privileged Childhood

    I’ve been thinking about class, race, and privilege a lot lately. The struggles of the character in Adam Haslett’s novel to gain admission to grad school and afford to pay for that have lead me to reflect upon my college years and then upon my childhood. I’ve realized recently just how very upper-middle class and indeed affluent my upbringing was and how in some ways I had an extraordinary childhood. I grew up in a two parent household, where both my parents were college graduates. M y father worked for an oil company as a geologist; my mother taught high school biology-by her choice; she didn’t have to work. I was raised by a nanny until I was old enough for school and, while my family didn’t have full-time help, my mother did have a  woman who came in twice a week to cook and clean house.  I had activities such as early childhood ballet and gymnastics ( in the 60s in Mississippi),  was in the band (when my parents saw I was serious, I got private lessons and a professional quality instrument) with trips to music camps, frequent visits to museums and symphonies, and winter vacations in warm climates. My battles with my mother, while important to me, now seem very first world: she wanted me to wear the designer labels she picked out,  while I wanted to steal my father’s shirts and wear them over jeans. I had the best medical care possible at the time (and I needed it, being born 3 months premature). I’m still a little fuzzy on all the details but for much of my early childhood I required daily visits from a nurse and regular consultations with various specialists. And college. That was something that I never questioned as being in my future. Of course, had I not gone to college, I would have broken family tradition bigtime….b/c not only had my parents graduated from college, but at least one of each of their parents had also. As it turns out, I have what a friend insists on calling the ” genius gene” lol and took to all things academic like a duck to water. Though my parents were fully willing, eager, and able to pay for college, my entire academic career was scholastically funded by the colleges I attended and my grad school even threw in a teaching fellowship and paid me to go to school. My parents did pay for a private apartment off-campus, though, which I did not have to share with a roommate. And my father offered me a car, which I declined, as I hated to drive. So I finished with a B.A. and a M.A. with no student debt. I am very grateful for that when I hear friends tell me that they’ve just paid off their loans. I had it very well in many respects growing up. It was not perfect, nothing ever is, but my parents gave me a hell of a lot. I wish I could tell them, “I appreciate it.”