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Hard words
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Today at 1:55am Edit Note Delete
These are harsh words...difficult words to hear...and difficult words to say. And I'm debating whether I should use words to convey this message or just keep hoping you realize it one day:
That one day you'll get why I can't just get up and buy myself some groceries when I'm hungry
That one day you'll understand why I can't just get up and buy myself a car when I can't get from point A to B
That one day you'll understand that you are not poor...
And for that matter, I am not poor.
And for that matter, no one really is poor.
That one you'll understand that this topic is understood in terms of relativity.
Because you are poor in relation to Oprah who lives down the street from your house. And I am poor in relation to you, and the others from middle class America who you consider poor. And I am wealthy in relation to the families in Dominican Republic who live under tin roofs and sweep their floors made of soil every day.
And yet they are rich in relation to me because they know how to keep what little they have in order. And they treasure every little ounce of dirt, tin roofs, beans and cups of rice they may have. And when I go to their homes they want to give me everything they have--that they can turn 5 loves of bread into 5,000 when I'm there visiting. And for this reason, to hear me complain about what I don't have is a slap in the face to them.
I hope that one day you'll understand why I cringe when I have to ask you for a favor. Because in my life the only people that have done me these favors willingly are people who are from my community and know what "need" means. In my experience, wealthy people (I've met)/wealthy people who think they are middle class/upper middle class people who think they are poor. do not like to give of their shit. They count every penny and calculate every cent that has been given in a this for that game.
I just spent a week at my cousin's house. They grew up poor and now they're doing pretty OK. for themselves. But you better believe that they made me feel like a queen at their home. They gave me of their food without calculating how much it would cost me, they drove me places without expecting gas money (or even thinking about it), they bought soaps, gifts for me....out of love.
I hope that one day you understand why I hate living here. I hope that you understand how I breathe inequality and feel the aura of "how come you have sooo much more than me" every day. I hope you understand that when one of my possessions break I am pissed because I cannot replace it all the time. And I hope you understand what a slap in the face it is whenever you tell me:
Just replace it. Just buy yourself a car. Just buy yourself some juice.
Just fulfill your desires and wants when you feel them co me on.
And I hope that one day this will not be the case; that one day you'll come to my house and I'll give you presents, and drive you around without asking you for gas money (or even thinking about it), that I'll buy you soaps and let you sleep in my house without counting the cents it cost me. And I hope that one day I can be like that family in Dominican Republic who doesn't even think about the inequality, who wouldn't even dream of charging anyone for any service they give.
So understand that when you calculate everything we've given each other in a this-for-that game, it's a step into the classroom: "never ask wealthy people for anything" 101. Understand that I turn to my gurls every time and we share stories of how this inequality haunts us; that we sit around in our PJ's talking about it. And when they need me I got them. And when I need them they got me. I hope one day you learn these lessons.
Share
Today at 1:55am Edit Note Delete
These are harsh words...difficult words to hear...and difficult words to say. And I'm debating whether I should use words to convey this message or just keep hoping you realize it one day:
That one day you'll get why I can't just get up and buy myself some groceries when I'm hungry
That one day you'll understand why I can't just get up and buy myself a car when I can't get from point A to B
That one day you'll understand that you are not poor...
And for that matter, I am not poor.
And for that matter, no one really is poor.
That one you'll understand that this topic is understood in terms of relativity.
Because you are poor in relation to Oprah who lives down the street from your house. And I am poor in relation to you, and the others from middle class America who you consider poor. And I am wealthy in relation to the families in Dominican Republic who live under tin roofs and sweep their floors made of soil every day.
And yet they are rich in relation to me because they know how to keep what little they have in order. And they treasure every little ounce of dirt, tin roofs, beans and cups of rice they may have. And when I go to their homes they want to give me everything they have--that they can turn 5 loves of bread into 5,000 when I'm there visiting. And for this reason, to hear me complain about what I don't have is a slap in the face to them.
I hope that one day you'll understand why I cringe when I have to ask you for a favor. Because in my life the only people that have done me these favors willingly are people who are from my community and know what "need" means. In my experience, wealthy people (I've met)/wealthy people who think they are middle class/upper middle class people who think they are poor. do not like to give of their shit. They count every penny and calculate every cent that has been given in a this for that game.
I just spent a week at my cousin's house. They grew up poor and now they're doing pretty OK. for themselves. But you better believe that they made me feel like a queen at their home. They gave me of their food without calculating how much it would cost me, they drove me places without expecting gas money (or even thinking about it), they bought soaps, gifts for me....out of love.
I hope that one day you understand why I hate living here. I hope that you understand how I breathe inequality and feel the aura of "how come you have sooo much more than me" every day. I hope you understand that when one of my possessions break I am pissed because I cannot replace it all the time. And I hope you understand what a slap in the face it is whenever you tell me:
Just replace it. Just buy yourself a car. Just buy yourself some juice.
Just fulfill your desires and wants when you feel them co me on.
And I hope that one day this will not be the case; that one day you'll come to my house and I'll give you presents, and drive you around without asking you for gas money (or even thinking about it), that I'll buy you soaps and let you sleep in my house without counting the cents it cost me. And I hope that one day I can be like that family in Dominican Republic who doesn't even think about the inequality, who wouldn't even dream of charging anyone for any service they give.
So understand that when you calculate everything we've given each other in a this-for-that game, it's a step into the classroom: "never ask wealthy people for anything" 101. Understand that I turn to my gurls every time and we share stories of how this inequality haunts us; that we sit around in our PJ's talking about it. And when they need me I got them. And when I need them they got me. I hope one day you learn these lessons.
