Privilage

Last night my family went out to dinner to celebrate our house selling. The end of an era for my family. We went to a fancy restaurant and got waited on by staff that was attentive and charming. I used to enjoy these outings when I was growing up as a child. I enjoyed putting on make-up and getting dressed up and eating tasty food that I wouldn't cook for myself.

There are still aspects of this tradition that I enjoy, but now it's tainted by a realization of class.

Class has rarely been something that I've consciously thought about, but it's come up in conversation a few times recently. Status. I think there are two big reasons that it has become more a part of my reality. One is my sister-in-law and the other is my step mother. Both consider status a priority. I feel a chasm between us when it comes to keeping up appearances. One that is easier to bridge with my step mother because we have other things in common, but I find it hard to reach my sister-in-law.

Status makes me uncomfortable. I don't desire, nor to I understand the desire, to spend heaps of money (or spend heaps of money I don't have) on things that represent to others that I might have heaps of money. As I get older, I realize that these things are important, to an extent, to my own parents as well. I was raising in an immediate culture where class was important.

Class relates to intelligence, class relates to health, class relates to safety. Class is an invisible promise.

In this environment of an expensive restaurant, I found myself being snobby. Complaining about what wasn't good enough about the meal, even though it was excellent. As the wine flowed, my complaints grew louder and I couldn't seem to help myself. As we walked out of the restaurant, I felt embarrassed by my own behavior. Bizarre.

I felt troubled and uncomfortable with myself.

Strange.

Who was I trying to be? Who am I? Am I truly a snob? Maybe I was just looking for attention.

I am definitely not one to live outside my means, but I have also been given false means to live within at times. My grandparents funded my education and travel. I have lived a life of leisure to an extent. I feel that I owe the world something. I felt guilty during college that one of my best friends was working and she held a 4.0 average at school, while I was partying, not going into debt and also not getting very good grades.

I was taught that education was given, not earned. I believe that higher education should be free to those that want it. Would I have even gone if it had been free? I never really questioned whether I would go or not because I went to a mostly white college preparatory school where everyone at least applied to college, there was a course for it.

I just don't want to be a bad person.

Ode to a Teenage Love

I gave you a piece of my heart
Planning for you to wear it proudly on a chain around your neck
Brag about it to your friends
But you tucked it away responsibly in your desk for safe keeping

Time passed and other things were squirreled away in that same desk
A collection of useful and micellaneous objects
Covering up that precious piece of heart
Forgotten

More time passed and though I'd not forgotten about you
I had given up trying to ensure that you would not forget about me
Finding comfort in the belief that maybe one day the universe would reunite us
While accepting that it may not

A few years later you  move out of your apartment
Cleaning out your desk, you find the heart
Dusty and rolled in pencil shavings you don't recognize it at first
But when you do your breath catches and you sit hard on the bed pondering

You're older now and you wonder if you would have done things differently
You wonder where I am and how I'm doing
You wonder if you deserved this heart, if you earned it
You remember I told you I loved you the time I saw you last

And, I won't forget, you responded, "I love you too."