Ok, so poor people got it tough right. I mean, the lower class not only has to battle gravity, digging themselves out of a place which they may or may not have gotten themselves into (usually not). Maintaining the daily struggle with enough energy to be visionary. Chasing something that's so far away that you can't even see it, you just HEARD its there. Fighting against stereotypes, which are so stifling and omnipresent that they convince the individual of who they are, without they themselves having any say in the matter. Fighting against what Lupe so appropriately deemed "The Cool." Good grades mean you're a nerd. Being the gold standard of a THUG is called being "real." And they live in the "trap." Like, how are you supposed to supposed to get out of some place that you feel you're trapped in? Fuck that word.
It's not all psychological, but a good chunk of it is.
I'm saying all this so you don't look at the subsequent paragraphs as an observation of a closed-minded spoiled suburban kid. Not to say that I'm not, but that's not ALL it is.
I was thinking about the battles I fight in my life, and I think the reason people lose their own personal battles is that they fail to realize who the real enemy is.
Enough setup. The Suburban Plight.
Begin historically inaccurate hypothetical scenario:
Let's go back 50, 60, 70 years. Let's look at what our great-grandparents had. Most likely not much. Now let's look at the ideal of success from that perspective. The perspective of never being on the other side of the fence. I mean, their lawn looks so lush and soft. I could just walk barefoot on it. I want that. I want my kids to have that. So they take what opportunity they have. Maybe working at a factory making peanuts. But supporting the family. Sending the kids to school.
So our grandparents were a little better off right? They graduated high school. They had more opportunities. No longer the bottom of the barrel but by no means standing on top of it. Wrong side of the fence. So they bust their ass too. They put our parents in college.
Nice. Now our parents have higher education. But it's still a struggle. This is not a path that their circle is familiar with, so they're trailblazing. But they did it, they got a good job. Food is always on the table. Lights are always on. AND the kids can play Sonic the Hedgehog in their very own bedroom. SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
So we've come a long way. Then there's me. We're comfortable, sure. But something isn't right. We don't seem as happy anymore. It's like the struggle isn't there anymore. But where did it go? We're SO CLOSE. Maybe too close.
We can see the next step, we're right on the fence and we can talk to the kids next door. We can see what happens when you become rich. And we realize, life was better back in the day. I don't want that, I'd rather just play football with the neighborhood kids.
So we're at a crossroads: Think of a relay race. We started behind and our great-grandparents and grandparents busted their asses so we could catch up. Our parents are tied up. Finish line is close. They hand the baton off.
End historically inaccurate hypothetical scenario.
I don't want it.
The Suburban Plight.
2 snaps! and a pat on the back
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