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Hypertext Project: Discernment
 

Memoirs from a middle class woman

Growing up in the country with my parents and sister, I never thought about money.  We had a house, a dog, and a couple cats. I lived my life in my sister’s hand me downs and hand made tie-dyed clothing.  I went to a little public elementary and middle school where all the kids played and were too young to worry or know about money, jobs, income, or tuition.  It wasn’t until I went to public high school that I became aware of our amount of money.  I started noticing other student’s brand name clothing, high quality bags and shoes, and shiny new cars.  I slowly realized that what I owned, wore, and drove was out of the ordinary and I felt that difference.  But I was not ashamed.  In fact, I was proud of my and my family’s economic standing.  I knew that the work that my parents have done and do is some of the most important work people can do.  When my sister and I were younger, my dad was a Communications professor, and my mother was a stay at home mom.  As we got older, my dad retired from teaching, and my mom became a high school teacher.  I am so grateful for the decisions that my parents have made because it has created a strong importance and reliance on quality time spent with each other.  I feel that because we don’t have a lot of money, we have a natural love and appreciation for the silent moments, for the conversations after dinner, and for things like quality time without the aid of money or overindulgence such as that. We don’t rely on money to bring or buy us satisfaction.

When I first came to Santa Clara, I met students who pursue a business degree just to make a lot of money. I once talked to one of my friends who had a deep passion for traveling, and different cultures and histories.  I asked her why she doesn’t pursue a degree in history, or cultural studies or something in the liberal studies area.  She looked at me shockingly and said, “…Because I have to have money, I have to have cash!”  This was a desire that I had never heard vocalized before, and I was as shocked as she had been. 

When I was a freshman, I roomed with incredibly wealthy girls.  Going out to dinner and to the movies was a regular event in their non-academic activities.  After going to dinner with them weekly, I realized I couldn’t keep up with their expensive tastes.  Though we didn’t go to expensive restaurants, I couldn’t afford to eat out and keep up with paying my cell phone bills with anticipation of next quarter’s book lists.  When I told them I couldn’t go to dinner, they would protest, telling me it really wasn’t that much money.  I admit there is some truth in that, but it was the continual indulgence I couldn’t go on affording.