Affluence, Abundance and Access to Awesomeness

I wrote this a few years ago but never felt comfortable actually sharing it. I was a little worried I’d never “eat lunch in this town again,” (feel free to insert your town here, most bubbles are similar). It felt oddly controversial, against the grain so to speak, so I opted to go the easy route and keep it to myself. I chose comfort, and kept my little rant stuffed inside. But now, as we face the start of a school year during a global pandemic, it feels even more relevant. Why? Because wealthy kids will indeed fare better no matter what decisions are made in relation to the start of school. Rich people in general have fared better in this pandemic as they are afforded a hearty amount of safety due to their access to resources. Bootstrapoers be dammed, it really doesn’t matter how hard you work if there are no jobs to be had. The thing with school is all kids need the structure, but there will be clear losers in this, and I think we all know who is set up for failure.

We are facing what will be likely be the harshest school year of their lives for educators, as they are asked to risk their personal health and safety for the betterment of other people’s children. And here’s the thing, I bet many teachers would willingly do just that if they knew the most vulnerable children in their care would be protected and safe. But they will also be hearing near constantly from parents about how they are getting it wrong. I’m not sure anyone can get this right. But a good start would be for parents to support teachers, even if it means their particular child misses out on a few things.

So, here goes, a little tale of a school controversy and the enormity of privilege buried in the ruckus (remember this was written a few years ago, pre pandemic):

There has been a lot of confusion and controversy surrounding my kids school district these last few months—mostly regarding failing test scores and lower ranks in a few publications—and fueled by some “articles” and lots of opinion. Here is my opinion, as someone who has lived in a few cities, in a few states, and who grew up in a very different area than where I live now.  
 
My older sibling and I attended a very middle of the road public high school in a very blue collar town in Wisconsin. My parents moved when I was in college, and my younger sibling then went to high school in an area a few miles away, but more like where I live now (an affluent town). There were vast differences in the educational “opportunities” and curriculum between the schools. But guess what? The older sibling, who barely graduated a simpler high school, quite possibly makes more money than the baby of our family, who took all AP classes, was co-valedictorian, got most of college tuition paid for because of that status, attended law school, and is a successful attorney. In truth I don’t know what either of them make, but both make more than me, so I’ll just consider it a lot—and either way, it’s not the point of this story.
 
Access to a quality education is absolutely important, vital even. But so is access to all the things that help create a rich full life. And this whole awkward debate and conversation is assuming that school rank, scores, and placements—combined with your address—will somehow be the only things that determine who children will be as adults. My parents first child, the one who picked on me as a kid and struggled in school, is a successful professional, who was a dyslexic middle schooler who hated taking tests, and attended a so-so school system. Deep breaths are probably in order. 
 
I’m not naive, I realize great schools are important, and amazing teachers are essential—but so is perspective, opportunity, family support, access to books and mentors, money to spend on extracurriculars, a full pantry, a stable work/life/school balance, connection with neighbors and community, a back up plan for sick days, parental access to good jobs and health and life insurance—and the inherent knowledge that you are worth the effort, and are allowed to achieve big things. I personally don’t worry as much about rich white kids in the suburbs as I do about underprivileged kids facing poverty, and living in forgotten neighborhoods.
 
I find myself confused, dismayed really, by all the cries from white parents in exceptionally privileged bubbles, seemingly screaming, “what about my kid?!” Parents actually worried that their child will be left behind and gobbled up in the real world because they didn’t get a perfect score on their ACTs, or have Einstein as their physics teacher. It’s insane. How good does a school district have to be to be considered good enough? I really thought we all knew that not everyone gets into Harvard. Or Yale. That some of us get into state colleges, or pursue arts degrees, or take classes to run x-ray machines, or get an apprenticeship with a master carpenter, or deliver packages, or work at the grocery store. 
 
I live in a world where families go to Spain with three days off of school, Turks and Caicos over Christmas, and Europe during spring break. My kids friends have been photographed all over the world, and with every Disney Princess. It’s not uncommon for a nanny to drop kids at week long summer camps, or stay at home moms to have catered play dates. It’s amazing really, and the affluence is spellbinding. I marvel at all the opportunities available to some people, and admittedly, it’s intoxicating. I imagine it feels empowering, all that access to so much ... of everything. And I can see how, over time, it must start to feel normal. And that having, and expecting, the absolute best would begin to feel commonplace. Somehow a right. I totally get it. Living the dream looks fantastic, and who doesn’t want the stability that comes with affluence? It’s sought after because even though we all know money can’t buy happiness, it’s pretty obvious that it pays the bills, paves the road to privilege, and keeps a family afloat.
 
I am truly happy for all the amazing people I know who aren’t worried about paying the mortgage, or saving for college, or thinking they need to work till they die. And I am excited for my friends actually living in their dream homes, and everyone who ever took a dream vacation, or made a bucket list and started checking things off in random order. If you ever had a vision board, and saw your magazine clippings materialize—you are my hero. You are my hero because dream fulfillment is the goal of fantasy. And living a happy AND prosperous life is to be supported, applauded, and replicated as often as possible. There should be no shame in being wealthy, but simply acknowledging the disparity is essential to moving the needle of change and progress when it comes to so much of what ails society.

The reason I find myself uncomfortable in this situation isn’t because people have more, it’s because in my heart, deep in my heart, I know that those with extra are gonna be ok. College is gonna be paid for. Blips along the way will be long paved over by adulthood. And if a dire situation arises—like drug dependency, depression, or a legal problem that brings police to the door—those of us with more will have the resources to get into rehab, find a therapist, or pay a lawyer. 
 
I don’t worry about more. I worry about less. I worry that while well meaning parents are screaming to overhaul top ranked school systems to fit the needs of privilege, not far away students are being denied access to the same quality education that we somehow find less than, but they can only dream of. I worry that we remain blind when it comes to the needs of students a few miles north. Or in smaller rural towns a hundred miles away. I worry about the countless other schools without access to affluence—with half the budgets and minimal resources—that their students will just have to make due.
 
I absolutely loved growing up in my hometown, and I absolutely adore living where I now call home. Truth be told I have one foot in both towns, metaphorically my heart is split. I probably belong in both—as my soul feels at home with the friends and classmates I grew up with, and the neighbors I now call friends. My home town, and my forever town, are what make me—me. But I struggle with the disparity.

Even though I never experienced true need—like waiting in line for free cheese or a hot meal, or had to struggle for anything deeper than fitting in, or ever had to share a room, a birthday cake, or even a bike—somehow as I view my life through the eyes of my weathered adult self, suddenly, the disparity is just so strikingly obvious. And I never knew poverty, so in a way I’m clueless to actual disparity.

I grew up firmly planted in the middle class. I now find myself wondering if the global garden of class, and place, is more obvious because I’m finally awake. Or is it because I’m now a grown up, raising white boys in a world that favors them ... unnecessarily. As a mom I want them to know how amazing they are, and how I will forever support all of their dreams, and lift them up and hold them when necessary.

But I also need them to know they don’t deserve more because we somehow squeaked into an amazing zip code, or because they were born white and will grow to be tall, or that they somehow are smarter than their cousins, who are girls. My boys are awesome because they are my kids, period. I will forever be their cheerleader. It’s in a mother’s job description to dream big for her kids. My biggest goal is to teach them that being awesome means more than having stuff. And I want them to understand that affluence is money, but abundance can be joy or health or fighting for justice
—and that access to opportunity Is essential for all of us to truly succeed.

In my limited experience success means different things to different people. And after a few years, your test scores, and where you got your diploma, will no longer matter. And honestly, neither will the size of your paycheck, your house, or your 401K. What matters most, at least to me, is how you live your life, treat your neighbors, and grow with age. If you appreciate the opportunities you were given, and recognize that not everyone was handed the same gifts, well, then you are truly successful. And if you raise your voice, even just a little, to help others find a way—then you are actually winning.
 
If we truly support education, we must support everybody’s education. Maybe then we can get this right. Maybe then it won’t feel so awkward. Maybe then we can raise our voices for our kids— all of our kids.

Now here I sit, just a few years later, with 130,000+ Americans dead from a global pandemic, and a national firestorm over the start of school. It felt uncomfortable then. Now it feels unbearable—the disparity feels even more essential to address. How can we do this school thing AND keep everybody safe? Add growing unemployment and the realization that much of America was actually just a few paychecks away from falling off a cliff, and I’m not sure anyone is really thriving, except for those who have always been thriving.

Forget about test scores, this year it is about survival ... and addressing the lack of social safety nets in this country. I’m no longer concerned about going out to lunch, I’m not leaving my house much anyway.

PS: Photo is from when we could all cram into a school room like sardines for a poetry slam. Hard to imagine school with 6 ft. between us