1 - she had parents sign up for the conferences on the open house night.

2- open house night began at 5:30, which since I can’t get back to where we live until 6, I was 30 minutes late for.

3 - of course, by then, all of the evening appointments were gone. Taken by people who clearly could get there earlier. Argh.

4 - her reply, well, one of you two will just have to come alone.

5 - my reply, that’s nice. neither of us two can take any more days off this year. i understand your position, because you can’t be here until midnight or something, possibly we could do the conference by phone?

6 - oh no, i don’t do that. I like to be able to be really present during the conference.

7 - well, would you rather be unpresent and have a conference, or be presently alone?!

8 - Well, i can see where you’re son gets his temper from.

Argh. I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened if I’d had to say, “there is no ‘two.’”

About your friend: I’ve had plenty of people who have offered to help with this or that and I’ve very rarely been able to accept the help. Fuck pride, I guess. It’s about time I start looking for opportunities to trade different kinds of commodities with friends.

“…Life is different now, for us. I know it’s affecting a lot of people of all ages, but sometimes I run into Boomers who are like, “you just need to work harder, and put yourself out there more.” No one’s putting thirty years in with a company anymore.

I’m definitely NOT one of those Boomers. And you’re right: life is very different for the younger ones now, in terms of work, jobs, career prospects, etc. It’s not dissimilar to how so many people still consider 1950s middle class family life as “normal” - each family with its own house, lawn mower, washer/dryer, and car; working dads, stay-at-home moms; re-decorating every few years; every day in every way, things getting better and better, blah blah blah.

But the 1950s and 60s were an aberration, and it’s our ignorance of social history that causes us to use that as baseline. Well, ignorance and the vested interest of the top 10% in having everyone else continue to believe that it’s just a matter of us trying harder. Why aren’t we all way more vocal and obviously worried about the erosion of the middle class? I think in large part it’s because none of us wants to admit that we’re stuck in an increasingly stratified system.

Jeez. That reminds me of a friend of mine, “Marianne”, who’s married and has three children. They’re a poor family living in a relatively affluent area (she and her husband were both born in the area), and they have some serious issues to deal with. Marianne’s husband had to quit his middle-management banking job for psychiatric reasons, and now works as a custodian. One son has been diagnosed with Aspberger’s, another with bipolar illness. Marianne works part-time in retail.

They scrape by on a strict budget, county and state financial assistance, and the fact that they share a house with Marianne’s mother (they pay rent). Her mom is kind of weird, very religious and quirky. Several years ago, during whichever presidential campaign it was when Jesse Jackson was considering running, Marianne and her mother were watching the news. She idly asked her mom if she’d ever consider voting for Jesse Jackson, and her mom was horrified. “No!” she exclaimed. “Jesse Jackson wants to give away all the money to the poor!” Marianne just gaped at her and blurted out, “Mom, we are the poor!”

Nobody wants to admit that the game is so rigged. Clinging to the idea that we just have to try harder enables us to continue to imagine that we can get there, too. It’s the same mechanism that allows us to blame the poor, ’cause if it isn’t their fault, then there we are again, face to face with circumstances way out of our control.

I don’t have children, I’m not married, I dropped out of college - basically, I did everything I wasn’t meant to do. I’m not poor-poor (re your earlier post), but I’ve got no net and few prospects. Lauren, I so wish I could help you. We all need to think in terms of unusual alliances. If Ethan was going on a field trip, and I wasn’t scheduled for a cleaning gig, or dog-sitting, or whatever, I’d totally go as your stand-in. I can’t be his mom, but I could at least help alleviate some of the pressure you face as a single mom who can’t be as involved as the other YES parents would like. Or I could take him to the dentist so you don’t have to use sick time. You know? Just little things that might reduce the teeth-grinding stress.

So tomorrow, as usual for Tuesdays, I meet Marianne and get coffee and chat with her during her 40 minute lunch break. She hasn’t ever asked for my help (I’m pretty sure she has a system going), but it’s way past time for me to offer.

Anyway, it’s made me think about my schooling. As I mentioned this summer, I went to library school, where they convince you that any second now there’s going to be a massive wave of retirement and all us new breed librarians will march in and take over. Turns out they’ve been saying that for fifteen years now. Dammit! I should have done better googling before starting school.

Trying to scramble to get a job, any job, after graduation in ‘04 has been rough. I’ve pretty much given up for now. On one hand it’s nice to read the “it’s the economy, stupid” stuff, and on the other hand it’s more disheartening, because you start to feel like it’s lottery-like odds that you’ll actually make it. We’re lucky. Finally, this year, almost two years after graduation, my bf hit the lottery and got a contractor position that can take care of all of us, and we’re working out the Beaver Cleaver thing for a while, even though I am still an unmarried slattern.

And I say lucky, but he could still be fired at any moment on a whim, and we are paying out of pocket for health insurance. Life is different now, for us. I know it’s affecting a lot of people of all ages, but sometimes I run into Boomers who are like, “you just need to work harder, and put yourself out there more.” No one’s putting thirty years in with a company anymore.

I always feel like I have to walk a fine line at those damn meetings, anyway. I have to speak a different language; express myself with a different style, if I am to be heard or understood. It was a similar dynamic in the NICU—get loaded for bear in my off-time, so I could use the same lingo they did, and thus get more attention, more information, and more respect. But afterwards, I wonder how much good it did.

I sure hope you find a teaching job. The schools need teachers like you.

Ethan will grow up JUST FINE whether you spend a day in his classroom or not. He knows you love him.

There are waaay too many people who don’t realize how privileged they are, who are too willing to look down their noses at someone who has less than they do.

My kids turned out just fine; and both have a very clear appreciation of money and how to use it responsibly (a skill few of their friends acquired).

I struggle so much with not just guilt about not being able to attend many of his school functions or volunteer, but also with simply being so very different from all the other parents at his school.

Here’s a pisser: our state recently initiated a tax-free weekend, a giant boon to folks purchasing back-to-school stuff. It’s at the beginning of August. Before any fall clothes are in stores. Before schools actually determine class assignments, and thus, before the specific teacher’s list of class needs is available.

Thanks.