In my last post, I asked us to imagine what it would be like to be with people unlike us.
Then LizOpp sent me this article and I cried.
I hope all my readers had a chance to read Lorcan's article.
I took my mother to church last night, and though these people were very different than those in a typical Quaker Meeting, I felt welcomed. I wasn't with them long enough to know if they'd welcome all of me (including my sexuality), but I had no question that I'd have a place there if I wanted it.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Trading Places
My mother, one of seven children of an Appalachian coal miner, a woman who wore steel toe boots to work, a woman who lives off of not very much money because she can't work and doesn't have a retirement account outside of social security, sent me food shopping today. She listed some very specific things.
Zesta saltines
Hillshire Farms turkey (not honey)
Peter Pan peanut butter with no sugar
Bounty paper towels (one sheet, with print)
Charmin ultra strong mega rolls
Diet Sierra Mist (if it's on sale)
Diet Sunkist (if it's on sale)
I'm wandering around Publix knowing that she likes very specific brands, knowing not to look for something cheaper or "healthier", not even for something new to try.
Here's what I heard in my head as I sought through the unfamiliar aisles:
Why won't she try another brand that's cheaper? How about natural peanut butter or I wonder if the local Whole Foods has one of those machines to make your own peanut butter from peanuts like our new coop has? Why not unbleached paper towels? I wonder of that thick Charmin really breaks down in the sewer?
These are all things I learned from middle and owning class lefty liberals. And it struck me that it used to be the other way around:
Poor people ate brown bread and the money classes else ate white bread.
Now the liberal left well-to-do grow their own food (or pay someone to do so), make their own Christmas wrapping paper, use canvas bags when they shop, and eat brown bread.
The poor and working class eat white bread.
My mother, I think, likes name brand products because anything less makes her think she's poor once again. She grew up wearing homemade clothes, eating food she helped grow, doing any shopping that they got to do with reusable bags, buying an unbranded product because it was cheaper.
She's quite fond of telling people about her specific tastes and I can't help but wonder how someone like her would be received at a liberal Quaker Meeting (I say liberal because that's the group of Quakers I'm most familiar with). I know what we'd like to think about how we'd receive someone like her.
But imagine you're at my mother's church, where the women wear pantyhose and perfume and on Easter wear fancy hats to services. The men carry National Rifle Association cards in their wallets. They serve Jell-o and Spam and corn dogs at their church potlucks.
How do you think you'd* be received and welcomed? How would you like to be received and welcomed?**
*"You" means any lefty liberal.
**Many thanks to Red Cedar Friends who reminded me a couple of weeks ago that we all want to be welcomed as whole human beings, wherever we go.
Zesta saltines
Hillshire Farms turkey (not honey)
Peter Pan peanut butter with no sugar
Bounty paper towels (one sheet, with print)
Charmin ultra strong mega rolls
Diet Sierra Mist (if it's on sale)
Diet Sunkist (if it's on sale)
I'm wandering around Publix knowing that she likes very specific brands, knowing not to look for something cheaper or "healthier", not even for something new to try.
Here's what I heard in my head as I sought through the unfamiliar aisles:
Why won't she try another brand that's cheaper? How about natural peanut butter or I wonder if the local Whole Foods has one of those machines to make your own peanut butter from peanuts like our new coop has? Why not unbleached paper towels? I wonder of that thick Charmin really breaks down in the sewer?
These are all things I learned from middle and owning class lefty liberals. And it struck me that it used to be the other way around:
Poor people ate brown bread and the money classes else ate white bread.
Now the liberal left well-to-do grow their own food (or pay someone to do so), make their own Christmas wrapping paper, use canvas bags when they shop, and eat brown bread.
The poor and working class eat white bread.
My mother, I think, likes name brand products because anything less makes her think she's poor once again. She grew up wearing homemade clothes, eating food she helped grow, doing any shopping that they got to do with reusable bags, buying an unbranded product because it was cheaper.
She's quite fond of telling people about her specific tastes and I can't help but wonder how someone like her would be received at a liberal Quaker Meeting (I say liberal because that's the group of Quakers I'm most familiar with). I know what we'd like to think about how we'd receive someone like her.
But imagine you're at my mother's church, where the women wear pantyhose and perfume and on Easter wear fancy hats to services. The men carry National Rifle Association cards in their wallets. They serve Jell-o and Spam and corn dogs at their church potlucks.
How do you think you'd* be received and welcomed? How would you like to be received and welcomed?**
*"You" means any lefty liberal.
**Many thanks to Red Cedar Friends who reminded me a couple of weeks ago that we all want to be welcomed as whole human beings, wherever we go.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Little Boxes and Coincidence
Last night, a couple of friends and I went to an art opening and one of the pictures showed rows upon rows of big houses. This made me think of the song "Little Boxes" which I've heard a lot lately because I'm watching the TV show Weeds on DVD. So I said so.
One of my companions quoted Tom Lehrer and said Little Boxes was the "most sanctimonious song ever written."
I didn't say this, but what I wanted to say was, "It's almost the Quaker anthem."
The lyrics seem quaint until you hear that all the people who build houses out in the suburbs all come out "just the same." It is derisive and sanctimonious.
More than once I've been at a Quaker sing and someone suggests Little Boxes. Smiles spread through the room like The Wave at the Metrodome and we sing loudly and look around as if we were saying to each other, "What in the world are those people thinking, why would they choose to march in lock-step with each other in the suburbs." And unspoken, because we'd never say such a thing, "Idiots."
The irony is that a similar song could be written about us. It would talk about our non-profit jobs and our service work and our organic gardens and our MA or MS or PhD degrees.
And our sanctimony.
On another note, I gave a workshop this morning on Quakers and social class for fifteen willing adults. (And I think it went well. More on this later?) At the end, I handed out copies of an article I referenced before by Betsy Leondar-Wright.
This afternoon, my partner Liz was on Facebook and said, "Hey, Jeanne? That article you handed out, is it by someone named Betsy Leondar-Wright?"
Yeah, it is.
Turns out, Liz was really good friends with Betsy's sister growing up.
It's a teeny, tiny little world on Facebook!
One of my companions quoted Tom Lehrer and said Little Boxes was the "most sanctimonious song ever written."
I didn't say this, but what I wanted to say was, "It's almost the Quaker anthem."
The lyrics seem quaint until you hear that all the people who build houses out in the suburbs all come out "just the same." It is derisive and sanctimonious.
More than once I've been at a Quaker sing and someone suggests Little Boxes. Smiles spread through the room like The Wave at the Metrodome and we sing loudly and look around as if we were saying to each other, "What in the world are those people thinking, why would they choose to march in lock-step with each other in the suburbs." And unspoken, because we'd never say such a thing, "Idiots."
The irony is that a similar song could be written about us. It would talk about our non-profit jobs and our service work and our organic gardens and our MA or MS or PhD degrees.
And our sanctimony.
On another note, I gave a workshop this morning on Quakers and social class for fifteen willing adults. (And I think it went well. More on this later?) At the end, I handed out copies of an article I referenced before by Betsy Leondar-Wright.
This afternoon, my partner Liz was on Facebook and said, "Hey, Jeanne? That article you handed out, is it by someone named Betsy Leondar-Wright?"
Yeah, it is.
Turns out, Liz was really good friends with Betsy's sister growing up.
It's a teeny, tiny little world on Facebook!
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Call for Writing for an Anthology
For all of you interested in social class, Class Action is putting together an anthology on social class called Caviar, Coupons and College: Stories Across the Class Spectrum. They're looking for personal essays from 1,000 to 2,500 words, and their deadline is February 28, 2009. Please email your submission with a one-paragraph biography about you, the author to predington@classism.org.
No matter your current or past class status, won't you consider submitting? I am.
No matter your current or past class status, won't you consider submitting? I am.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Guest Post: A Start at the Kingdom by Eric Evans
Recently, Eric Evans and I had a conversation in Facebook about my post on military recruiters, and he offered up this Bible verse, which made me pay attention to what he had to say:
Ezekiel 13:8-12
8 " 'Therefore this is what the Sovereign LORD says: Because of your false words and lying visions, I am against you, declares the Sovereign LORD. 9 My hand will be against the prophets who see false visions and utter lying divinations. They will not belong to the council of my people or be listed in the records of the house of Israel, nor will they enter the land of Israel. Then you will know that I am the Sovereign LORD.10 " 'Because they lead my people astray, saying, "Peace," when there is no peace, and because, when a flimsy wall is built, they cover it with whitewash, 11 therefore tell those who cover it with whitewash that it is going to fall. Rain will come in torrents, and I will send hailstones hurtling down, and violent winds will burst forth. 12 When the wall collapses, will people not ask you, "Where is the whitewash you covered it with?"
So with Eric's permission, I edited some of his words and offer them up to you for something to think about.
A Start at the Kingdom
One of the hardest things about looking at class is my own anger and my own internalized classism. I was surprised by my anger during the Gathering interest group on Quakers and social class. Despite thinking I had dealt with and was done with my feelings, those old memories about being made fun of in school because of wearing cheap clothing, etc., popped right up. Sometimes anger and the internalized hurt makes it hard to listen and not to form judgments in my mind about what I perceive to be another’s life experience.
“That middle-class Quaker with a college education could never truly understand where I’m coming from...”
At the same time, I know I also carry plenty of class issues of my own. Living in a working class Italian neighborhood in Philadelphia, I confront this everyday.
“Why do they have to be so loud/ignorant/rude?”
I find myself making unconscious snap-judgments about people in my neighborhood all the time, based mainly on my own upbringing in an Evangelical family with rural, mid-Western expectations of what a “good” family and “good” values look like.
So there’s a piece of real humility in this for me – acknowledging how both the hurt and my own hidden classism can keep me from always seeing clearly or relating to others out of a place of love.
I imagine this is the same for others, as well as a fear of being judged. I’ve noticed among Quakers that we’ll often try to rationalize the ways in which we’ve “done without” or experienced hardship so that we can put ourselves on the “safe side” of classism, racism, etc. But acknowledging how very hard it is for each of us, poor or owning class, to look at our own stuff seems like a good start.
How does fear of being judged keep us from being able to understand the experiences of others?
I often hear Quakers talk about “choices” – we get to choose where & how we want to live, where we want to go to school, even what we will do without. If someone seems to be “failing” according to our societal standards, they usually “didn’t make good choices”.
How do we consider what it would be like to grow up without a sense of choices or alternatives? Or to live without a sense of options available to us? What vision of the Kingdom of Heaven do we offer that’s different from our own comfortable lives?
Ezekiel 13:8-12
8 " 'Therefore this is what the Sovereign LORD says: Because of your false words and lying visions, I am against you, declares the Sovereign LORD. 9 My hand will be against the prophets who see false visions and utter lying divinations. They will not belong to the council of my people or be listed in the records of the house of Israel, nor will they enter the land of Israel. Then you will know that I am the Sovereign LORD.10 " 'Because they lead my people astray, saying, "Peace," when there is no peace, and because, when a flimsy wall is built, they cover it with whitewash, 11 therefore tell those who cover it with whitewash that it is going to fall. Rain will come in torrents, and I will send hailstones hurtling down, and violent winds will burst forth. 12 When the wall collapses, will people not ask you, "Where is the whitewash you covered it with?"
So with Eric's permission, I edited some of his words and offer them up to you for something to think about.
A Start at the Kingdom
One of the hardest things about looking at class is my own anger and my own internalized classism. I was surprised by my anger during the Gathering interest group on Quakers and social class. Despite thinking I had dealt with and was done with my feelings, those old memories about being made fun of in school because of wearing cheap clothing, etc., popped right up. Sometimes anger and the internalized hurt makes it hard to listen and not to form judgments in my mind about what I perceive to be another’s life experience.
“That middle-class Quaker with a college education could never truly understand where I’m coming from...”
At the same time, I know I also carry plenty of class issues of my own. Living in a working class Italian neighborhood in Philadelphia, I confront this everyday.
“Why do they have to be so loud/ignorant/rude?”
I find myself making unconscious snap-judgments about people in my neighborhood all the time, based mainly on my own upbringing in an Evangelical family with rural, mid-Western expectations of what a “good” family and “good” values look like.
So there’s a piece of real humility in this for me – acknowledging how both the hurt and my own hidden classism can keep me from always seeing clearly or relating to others out of a place of love.
I imagine this is the same for others, as well as a fear of being judged. I’ve noticed among Quakers that we’ll often try to rationalize the ways in which we’ve “done without” or experienced hardship so that we can put ourselves on the “safe side” of classism, racism, etc. But acknowledging how very hard it is for each of us, poor or owning class, to look at our own stuff seems like a good start.
How does fear of being judged keep us from being able to understand the experiences of others?
I often hear Quakers talk about “choices” – we get to choose where & how we want to live, where we want to go to school, even what we will do without. If someone seems to be “failing” according to our societal standards, they usually “didn’t make good choices”.
How do we consider what it would be like to grow up without a sense of choices or alternatives? Or to live without a sense of options available to us? What vision of the Kingdom of Heaven do we offer that’s different from our own comfortable lives?
Monday, September 22, 2008
Miscellany
Another post not specifically about Quakerism, and some things not solely about class, but things I thought might interest those who read this blog.
1. A blog post about white privilege as it's revealed in the presidential race. I found it to be amazing and well-written. And sometimes, he's also talking about class (and sometimes he's not seeing his own class biases). And how class and race are perceived in this country as opposing forces when they're not.
2. A follow-up blog post about white privilege by the same writer. Also well-written and insightful. I especially like this bit as it applies to the conversation on class among Friends:
Talking about white privilege [or any privilege] is about responsibility, not guilt [or shame for that matter].
3. Finally, a Quaker going to a Quaker college talking about class and race, but not to or about Quakers (intentionally, anyway). Check her out. She's smart and a good writer.
1. A blog post about white privilege as it's revealed in the presidential race. I found it to be amazing and well-written. And sometimes, he's also talking about class (and sometimes he's not seeing his own class biases). And how class and race are perceived in this country as opposing forces when they're not.
2. A follow-up blog post about white privilege by the same writer. Also well-written and insightful. I especially like this bit as it applies to the conversation on class among Friends:
Talking about white privilege [or any privilege] is about responsibility, not guilt [or shame for that matter].
3. Finally, a Quaker going to a Quaker college talking about class and race, but not to or about Quakers (intentionally, anyway). Check her out. She's smart and a good writer.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Military Recruiting
Facebook is more fun than you can know.
Today, Zach Alexander posted on Facebook a CNN article that featured a Quaker who is working to keep military recruiters out of Wilkes County North Carolina high schools. This sentence struck me:
Lies, they say. Corruption too. They even explain how we can help, by running around proclaiming the truth.
As Quakers, we rely a lot on revealing The Truth as a means for change. Woolman did it, why can't we?
Because now, like then, economics is getting in our way. And I think our class privilege might be preventing us from seeing it.
McGrady needs a job that pays enough so he can live, and his options are limited. He went to public school and grew up in a working class family.
Like me.
I didn't know college was an option until 10th grade. Even then, I didn't think my possibilities included most middle and upper class jobs like engineering or medicine.
The Army is telling McGrady that they'll pay for his college degree if he wants to go, take classes while he's in the army, comprehensive health care and generous time off, and generous compensation.
Does it matter that the Army is lying? That some of their recruiters are corrupt?
Sure. But what are we offering recruits other than the truth?
The Truth might be enough for middle and owning class kids, but it's not enough if you live on the edge of poverty, or you're one paycheck away from welfare or getting a good education means making it all the way through twelfth grade or getting an AA from your local community college where your mother works nights as a janitor so you get to go there for free.
And it's those folks whom the military recruiters are targeting.
What could we do, in addition to exposing the military for what it is?
Create a fund to give scholarships and job training to CO's and 18-year-olds who have to choose between poverty and military service. Help those same folks with their resumes and interview skills. Provide scholarship search assistance. Connect them with social services and help close loopholes to keep those on the borderline of poverty from falling farther. Make sure they have access to decent health care.
Finally, we have a number of fine institutions of higher learning that could provide scholarship for CO's and those young people who feel they have no other choice.
This is a lot to ask for. But I'm hoping it'll give you all something to chew on.
And I'm hoping that maybe some of you are already doing some of this work. Anyone?
Today, Zach Alexander posted on Facebook a CNN article that featured a Quaker who is working to keep military recruiters out of Wilkes County North Carolina high schools. This sentence struck me:
"The students need to know there are alternatives to the military," said Ferrell, a Quaker. "But they're not getting the other side."And it got me wondering what "other side" all the middle and owning class Quakers are offering poor and working class high school students, like Josh McGrady, 20, (also from the CNN article):
He was working at a Wal-Mart after spending parts of three years at a community college. His bills -- including student loans -- were piling up. His father worked at a window-and-door factory for 30 years, but McGrady says he didn't want that life. "You could be laid off at any moment."So I checked out Quaker House to see what they have to say about military recruiting.
Tired of struggling, he walked into the Wilkesboro Army recruiting office. His mother, an elementary school teacher, and father support his decision. But his sister, a bank supervisor, tried to talk him out of it. Three soldiers from the county have been killed in Iraq.
"She's worried I'm going to get blown up," McGrady said. He paused for a moment. "I'm a little nervous, too, but there's not much else here."
Lies, they say. Corruption too. They even explain how we can help, by running around proclaiming the truth.
As Quakers, we rely a lot on revealing The Truth as a means for change. Woolman did it, why can't we?
Because now, like then, economics is getting in our way. And I think our class privilege might be preventing us from seeing it.
McGrady needs a job that pays enough so he can live, and his options are limited. He went to public school and grew up in a working class family.
Like me.
I didn't know college was an option until 10th grade. Even then, I didn't think my possibilities included most middle and upper class jobs like engineering or medicine.
The Army is telling McGrady that they'll pay for his college degree if he wants to go, take classes while he's in the army, comprehensive health care and generous time off, and generous compensation.
Does it matter that the Army is lying? That some of their recruiters are corrupt?
Sure. But what are we offering recruits other than the truth?
The Truth might be enough for middle and owning class kids, but it's not enough if you live on the edge of poverty, or you're one paycheck away from welfare or getting a good education means making it all the way through twelfth grade or getting an AA from your local community college where your mother works nights as a janitor so you get to go there for free.
And it's those folks whom the military recruiters are targeting.
What could we do, in addition to exposing the military for what it is?
Create a fund to give scholarships and job training to CO's and 18-year-olds who have to choose between poverty and military service. Help those same folks with their resumes and interview skills. Provide scholarship search assistance. Connect them with social services and help close loopholes to keep those on the borderline of poverty from falling farther. Make sure they have access to decent health care.
Finally, we have a number of fine institutions of higher learning that could provide scholarship for CO's and those young people who feel they have no other choice.
This is a lot to ask for. But I'm hoping it'll give you all something to chew on.
And I'm hoping that maybe some of you are already doing some of this work. Anyone?
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