I Work, Therefore I Am …
by Bethany Ramirez
UU Class Conversations
Advisory Board member
Defining Working Class
How do you define “working class”?
The girlfriend of a friend of mine used to insist that she was working class because her parents worked. They paid for her car, utilities and all of her credit card bills. They paid all of her undergraduate tuition without financial aid. They even paid for the weekly maid service she enjoyed.
She used to casually stop into Nordstrom’s (an upscale department store) and drop $200 on a single pair of shoes on a whim, because her parents would pay the bill. The only thing she paid for was her half of the rent on a 4-bedroom waterfront condo for just the two of them – which she could not have afforded if her parents hadn’t been paying for everything else.
She used to chide my friend for being broke all the time even though he technically made more than she did (by only a few thousand). He had student loans. He had to pay all of his bills himself. He owed money on his car. He did not have parents who could underwrite spontaneous $200 purchases of shoes.
She genuinely could not understand why he was financially strapped all of the time.
Understanding Class Privilege
And this, to me, is why I have never been able to view her as working class. Well into her 30s her parents supported her in a life of comfort. And she so firmly believed that she was working class (because she and her parents worked) that she could not understand that it wasn’t the same for everyone else.
By the classic definition “nothing to sell but labor-power and skills,” she was working class. But when it comes to privilege and relating to money, it always felt like she came from a different world. She chose to work. But her parents had enough wealth that she didn’t have to. And she had no concept of what it was like to have to rely on income from a job in order to survive.
This makes me feel that the definition was too broad. She can define herself as working class, and a dictionary can define her as working class, but I cannot accept that she is working class.
Leave comment, and let me know: Where is the line for you?
Don’t Feed the Birds, Animals — or People?
by Nancy Hilliard, M.Ed
When I learned about the latest indignity aimed at people living in persistent poverty, I had to ask myself, How did we dehumanize people living in poverty so thoroughly?
According to the National Coalition for the Homeless, well over 30 municipalities have restricted or banned sharing food with homeless people across the USA. Learning about this horror made me think about how (increasingly) rare it is for people from different class groups – and even with different class backgrounds – to interact. It becomes easy to view someone as “the other” when you see them only from afar – if you see them at all.
This thought brought back memories of one summer, during the mid-80s, when I saw how the myth of “other” began to crumble ever so slightly for one young man.
Creating Change
I worked on a grassroots campaign to pass a Consumer Utility Bill (CUB), which would have allowed consumers to contribute $1 to hire an expert to rebut Utility Company testimony during rate hike hearings. No one had organized Chelsea, home of the House Ways and Means Committee Chairman, Richie Voke. Ever.
Chelsea was the poorest city in Greater Boston, and one of the poorest in the state. It was expected that my crew would last a couple of hours, at most. But with youthful optimism and energy, I gathered all the multilingual canvassers who would accept my invitation, and off we went. Our assignment was to gather handwritten letters to deliver to Rep. Voke, as well as contributions of any amount (wink, wink).
As that one evening stretched into the second week, a young man in preppie attire balked at joining the crew. “Of course, it is easy for you. You’re working class.” Ummm.
Not exactly. I explained that I had grown up in a well-to-do suburb of Boston. Once upon a time, it was known as “one of the three Ws for wealth: Winchester, Weston, and Wellesley.” Moreover, I had graduated with honors from Harvard-Radcliffe College just a few years before, albeit on scholarship.
Well, perhaps he could give it a try, even though he was coming from an upper class family on the North Shore. He grudgingly came with us to Chelsea.
Opening a Window
Given his misgivings, we agreed to a check-in within the first hour. Turning the corner toward the designated meeting spot, I wondered what I would find. Up ahead, the young man stood quietly, as if trying to avoid attention. As he slid into the passenger seat, he was beaming. He waved a letter in his hand, and exclaimed, “You were right, Nancy. Working class people are just like us!” I did bite my tongue. His sincere amazement caught my breath.
This young man joined us for a second evening, and his enthusiasm contributed greatly to our campaign. All told, we visited Chelsea for two weeks, gathered 50 letters, over 250 signatures, and many memberships. It turns out that Chelsea is a city with many different neighborhoods, and socioeconomic classes. We even received a $50 contribution (well before the gentrification and condos of the new millennium).
Richie Voke responded immediately, rescuing the CUB and setting it up for passage. Unfortunately, in October that year, the U.S. Supreme Court struck down a similar provision, disallowing consumers to piggy-back communication in the utility statement envelopes. Alas. The campaign was successful in so many ways, for all of us.
Widening the Circle
Perhaps my own openness to all classes developed from the economic reality of my childhood in Winchester. Recently, my mother informed me that we would have had more money if she, as a widow with two small children, had applied for welfare. Instead, my grandparents assisted with budgeting (not actual funds) and my experience of socioeconomic realities was fluid and not particularly painful. I worked from the age of nine, but then so did many babysitters.
Whatever our response to the challenges of class discrimination, we cannot leave our cross-cultural encounters to chance. Class conversations are one way to begin deliberate steps toward widening our Circle of We, and ending classism.
The Intersection Between Class and Race
Too many events of the past several months remind of us how insidiously classism intertwines with racism. In the recent piece “Class Prejudice Resurgent” by David Brooks, he writes, “During the civil-rights era there was always a debate about what was a civil-rights issue and what was an economic or social issue. Now that distinction has been obliterated. Every civil-rights issue is also an economic and social issue.”
Read his full piece:
Broke vs. “Broke” vs. Broken
by Kellie C. Kelly
In Broke vs. ‘Broke’, Class Action trainer Nicole Brown explains one of the many ways class identity affects the college experience, especially in graduate school.
Everyone I have ever known in graduate school has made significant sacrifices of time and treasure to complete their degrees. In order to discuss our “sacrifices of treasure” though, I believe it is helpful and important to examine what we are actually talking about when we say that we are sacrificing treasure — how do we define “treasure.”
What Are You Sacrificing?
Am I sacrificing potential earnings while I am in school? Am I giving up luxuries like vacations, movies, going out to dinner, entertainment, impulse buys? Am I giving up necessities, like utilities, food, and healthcare? Am I giving up saving for emergencies? Am I am giving up saving for my retirement? Am I using my emergency savings? Am I using my retirement savings? Am I taking out personal debt (credit card or home equity)? Am I taking out student loans? Am I required to work in a paid position outside of school? Am I required to work part-time? Am I required to work full-time? Am I required to sacrifice my children’s financial well-being?
Does any family member have the resources to assist me if I am unable to take out loans, live on the amount of loan money allowed by my institution, and/or work in a paid position while completing my degree? Does any family member have the financial resources to help me during a short-term gap? Are the social services in my state able to make up for the financial gap between my living expenses and my resources? Am I spending a substantial portion of my study time trying to avoid eviction, car repossession, and/or returned checks?
Yes, all of these questions are examples of sacrifice and the answers vary drastically based on class identity.
Temporary Financial Difficulties Are Not the Same as Poverty
In addition, I believe that it is also important to reflect on the difference between qualifying for public assistance when we are in graduate school (and have additional resources from our student loans) and depending on public assistance as our only resource.
In my situation, I am a first-generation college graduate and a third-generation single mother. My mother and grandmother both supported their children by waitressing 70-90 hours per week. My mother worked herself to the bone so that my sister and I could become “middle-class” when we became adults. It has been a long and slippery path for both of us. Once I became a single mother myself, it seemed impossible to stay on the road to the mythical promised land of “middle-class.” I had no financial resources myself and neither did any of my family members. However, with the help of student loans and persistence on my part, I have been able to fight to stay on this road and attend seminary. My situation would be completely different if I had never been able to get to this road in the first place.
My financial challenges and difficulties are not the same as a person who has no financial resources (personal or family) AND no access to education. Although my tax return shows the same annual income as an individual who qualifies for Medicaid, food stamps, and public housing, my tax return does not show my student loan disbursements. I have somewhere to live even though the county that I live in no longer accepts new applicants for public housing. I have somewhere to live because I am not only living on my taxable income. Sure, I am going into debt to pay for my living expenses while I complete my graduate degree. Heck yes, I am experiencing more economic hardship than many graduate students. Heck NO, I am not experiencing the same sacrifice, poverty, and lack of options that an individual without any other resources is experiencing. My financial difficulties are simply not the same as poverty.
The higher education system is broke(n) because the American class system is broke(n). Broke vs. “broke” vs. broken.
Let’s move from broken to transformative. Will you join me?
