As I stated in class this week, it seems unfair and critical to judge the worth of an individual's life, family, dreams and goal merely because of their perceived "class." There is so much we don't know and cannot fathom about someone's life just because of societal stereotypes or adopted norms attributed to certain classes of people.
The most interesting thing I noticed about each piece we read, is that they all came from the perspective of working class women and their experiences in the world. I wonder if a working class man would see the world from a much different perspective, maybe even a perspective that held more power, promise and inside information to the way the world works --- maybe even in favor of working class men. Working class men are in the same class as women yet have different opportunities afforded to them.
For each author, the most important factor in their ability to "survive rather than live" and "smile" came from the strength they received from their familial ties. Growing up they drew from the unwavering pride and creative capabilities of their families who in the outside world were seen as intellectual inferiors, but were the very threads that held their family and personal lives together with determination. It may be difficult for an outsider to look in and see their struggles as anything but something to reflect upon sadly, but through each voice, each word, I felt a sense of appreciation and admiration the women had for their working class upbringing. Granted, they were unsure in the world at times growing up and out of their working class families to go to college and travel the world, but they never forgot where they came from and had instilled upon them the belief of hard work, pride, dedication and respect for life.
The hardest to believe, but most repetitive ideal I noticed, was either their hope to be invisible (at a young age) to others who had "class freedom" or their desire to be seen despite feeling invisible to professors, peers who had come from middle or upper class backgrounds and others they encountered who held some sort of esteem. For one author, she couldn't decide if she should shout on the train that her clothes underneath her expensive coat(bought on credit) were really from the Salvation Army. The distinction that those without make about class was well put by author Terri Griffith: Class is about more than money; it's about safety and security, knowing that what you have today, you will have tomorrow.
Growing up without or on the edge of going without (constantly) creates a mental stress that even if you get older and have more than enough, you fear you might have nothing the next day. Middle and upper class constituents assume what they have, they always will. Perhaps, that is why it's that much harder for them to bounce back if by some chance of fate they lose it all. They aren't built to accept or expect failure. On one hand, that can sound negative, but it actually helps build a stronger character that not only can withstand troubles, but is able to think on his/her own feet when needed and survive.
Combining the ability to survive with the will to live and be able to live comfortably is essentially what would level out the playing field. In fact, it's the ideal that most working class people live by. The wealthy aspire to maintain and increase wealth, while those less fortunate would be happy with enough to live comfortably and be able to enjoy themselves if desired. The notion that working class and poor people don't have dreams, goals or aspirations is false. Rather, what they endure and are presented through political and social structures are brick walls to ensure they don't "dream too big" and remain where they are. For some, that provides the fuel to get out while for others it's simply confirmation that what they are is all they will ever be.
It was empowering to read the beauty and hardship simultaneously of all four women, regardless of race, having similar "class" experiences although, I related most with Meliza Banales, who wrote the Poet and The Pauper. I am also an aspiring poet and writer who has been told by many that my writings about race, class, gender and sexuality are not things that people want to read about. Yet, as she noted, those who wrote about trees and other obscure things are published regularly. When she spoke of the "smile" that people of color give to White people in authority, I felt as if she was letting out a secret membership tactic. All my life, my mother taught me to "smile" and not lash out at the rude, inconsiderate, racist and downright obnoxious things that White people in positions of power would say to her or me so as not to reduce my chances of mobility within the workplace. I've worked in mainly White dominated places of employment where if I was lucky there might be one other person of color and if there was one, they were always in competition with me to be the "better minority." In making us compete, we were never allowed to truly be friends or identify with one another because we were both trying to climb the rungs of the societal ladder that would give us the financial stability and security that our white counterparts had.
I read her piece thinking "How could you tell them about the smile? It's our greatest weapon." Yet I know that as the words left her thoughts and stained the paper in ink, there would be many who were guilty of igniting the smile, that would not understand, so I took comfort in that. As a woman of color and queer, your struggles through life, without class, are that much more complex and fraught with mixed messages that class is not only reserved for a certain racial composition, but also for your heterosexual comrades. No one thinks of queer people, let alone queer people of color, as very high on the totem pole. The quintessential crossover queer is Ellen DeGeneres. I believe that crossing over into acceptance came from her visibility in the media and acquiring social status before she outed herself. She had to solidify her place in society before slightly turning her world on its side. She came out at a time where it still wasn't tre-popular to say you were "gay." What does a person who is heterosexual know about trying to find your place in the world, not only through your family, your class, your race, but also your gender identity? It adds yet another layer onto the lasagna, making it take that much longer to bake and possibly altering the flavor we thought it should have.
The idea that who we are is in sharp contrast to the rest of world is something we learn at an early age through our experiences. We are either apart of the "in group" or outside of it looking in. Middle class and upper class society is much tougher to infiltrate than the "mean girls" in middle or high school. In reality, it's a group that affirms they are above you while every thing they live and breathe is made to support that belief. The stories we read played into that societal hierarchy. Through exploring life on their own, each author was able to see life outside the confines of their upbringing and challenge the notion that who they were simply consisted of the clothes, they wore, the food they ate and where they lived. It ran much deeper than the material and often had to do with an ideal of self-worth and self-preservation against all odds, which despite some cultural capital, they were able to receive from their close knit families.
(p.s. - the picture in the corner is one I took of the women's bathroom at RIC. I thought it went perfectly)
