Better than bread entries
Sarah came back and she said more good stuff! Stuff like this:
I can’t think of any specific occasions when it’s embarrassed me, but I do know that, in general terms, I do get pretty embarrassed about the thought of having more money than other people. I feel people are going to think I’m hopelessly materialistic and/or a spoiled brat who has no idea of the harsher realities of life. (Actually, that last is probably true - that it actually is the case, I mean, not that people think it.) … BTW, your post has made me think about my own preconceptions/biases, because I certainly do have them. When I see someone who’s homeless, or on benefits, there is an ugly part of me (and I try not to make it the ruling part) that assumes that it’s their fault, they didn’t work hard enough, they did something wrong, whatever. But I can’t imagine reacting that way to someone who was buying their own home but just wasn’t buying it in a good part of town.
I have preconceptions, too. Even after working in a shelter and knowing better, I fight a lot of my worst preconceptions pretty much everyday. And then adopting, that whole process of vetting potential adoption situations — ugh — tons *more* opportunities to figure out what a prejudiced person I am.
Sarah’s right in that there’s no way for me to know what those awkward moments stood for. I put my own money-angst into them and decided that the glance away was shameful instead of just a glance. Was I right? Was I wrong? Probably both — sometimes one and sometimes the other. I used to see wealthy people and assume that they 1) had never been poor; 2) that they could not appreciate my life; 3) that they secretly thought what I then thought, which is that I was a failure.
And then there’s the social plight of those better off than their friends. There’s a lot of privilege-guilt out there and I can think of one social situation where afterwards my friend said, “I’m really embarrassed that I’ve been talking about XYZ and I didn’t know how you were struggling.” She was horrifed. Had I thought she was bragging? Had I thought she was insensitive? She drove home that day banging her head on the steering wheel and then called the minute she walked in the door to apologize. Not that she had to apologize because she hadn’t done anything wrong but have a larger bank account.
(I have to add here that Brett and I aren’t struggling anymore. I feel like I’m writing these under false-pretenses so I need to repeat that we’re fine now.)
Dawn, this whole threat has been wonderful to follow. A hundred times I’ve nodded my head. I’m in a position now where we’re okay, not great, not where we would like to be, but okay. I have new friends who are really struggling, and I have new friends who are wealthy in a way that I can’t even imagine. It’s been great perspective for me to have a chance to interact with these people, often all together, and watch all of my own preconceptions at play. It can be so exhausting having to watch my predjudices so vigilantly, but what else can I do? I don’t want to be a jerk, even if by accident.
I grew up poor, on and off welfare. I have never taken what I have now for granted. A lot of our friends have more than us, but they are also in a heap of debt. I used to feel sorry for the students I taught at a wealthy private school because they’ll never know what it feels like to be so happy to have a bike– your very own bike.