Class Consciousness on a Thursday

Just to warn you…… this post includes different topics and there is very little structure because it’s not well thought out, it’s basically just coming from anger.

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It seems like whenever I talk about class-related issues, I get called a Debbie Downer.  Usually it’s because I’m talking about things on a very small level, so people don’t get that I’m talking about actual injustice; they think I’m just complaining about little things again.  This is especially true when I’m talking to people who are middle or upper class. 

Here’s the thing though.  I don’t just enjoy bitching and complaining about everything.  And if you talk to my friends, I think they’d tell you that I’m generally an upbeat person.  I like obnoxiously laughing at bad jokes and I’m easily pleased by the little things in life.  Getting a glimpse of the sunset can make me happy as a pig in shit. 

That said, I do have a lot of things that I can complain about.  And I’m damn tired of people calling me out on it, claiming that I shouldn’t be so angry.  If anything, I should be doing more to highlight my struggles, and working to connect with other people who have similar struggles.  Because it is unacceptable that I am 23 and have the health of a 70 year old.  And it’s unacceptable that I work hard and have worked hard for so many years and am still dirt poor.  I have always been poor, I am poor now, and it is becoming abundantly clear that I always will be poor.  I don’t expect to be 23 and making $200,000 a year.  But I don’t think that my expectation that I should have a stable job with good benefits and a living wage (around $35-45,000/year where I live) is unreasonable.  I’m a fucking person, and yes, that does mean I’m entitled to certain things in life. 

I’m on this little “Debbie Downer rant” right now because I just had lunch.  Shortly after, I realized I had eaten too much.  It hit me that I do this pretty frequently.  I don’t like feeling sick after I eat and I don’t like gaining weight and I don’t like stuffing myself, so I started thinking about why I eat so much sometimes. 

I think it probably has something to do with the fact that food has never been a certainty around these parts.  I wasn’t always starving as a kid.  But there were bad times.  And when times were bad but not exceptionally bad, there was always the knowledge that things could get worse.  So now I guess I have that mentality built into me, and I don’t always realize that I’m acting as though it’s the end of the world.  I also do this with clothes.  A pair of pants might be too big, but who knows when I might put weight on and whether or not I’ll be able to afford new pants at that time.  Or what if a friend is in a bad place and needs clothes and these pants are her size?  I should keep them in case that happens.  Or in case my sister who is 13 years younger than me happens to wear the same pants size when she’s older and she needs clothes.  And blankets.  Oh, blankets.  There’s always the possibility that electric will be turned off and blankets are the only way to keep warm. 

Does all of this sound crazy?  Yes.  I realize that.  But it’s not crazy.  It’s how someone acts when they’ve always been in survival mode.  And it’s exhausting.  And infuriating.  I hate, hate that spring cleaning can mean mentally/emotionally struggling over a pair of pants.  I hate that I catch myself over eating or over buying (when I’m able to) because I’m not sure if I’m always going to have food.  I hate being exhausted all the time.    

I NEED TO EAT ALL OF THIS FOOD.  Because really, I might die.

And the lack of class consciousness and solidarity is fucking heartbreaking.  I was at work and some of my coworkers were talking about people on food stamps.  It was the normal stuff you hear, things about drug testing and poor people buying chocolate bars because GOD FORBID I USE ONE DOLLAR OF MY GOVERNMENT AID ON A KIT KAT BAR.  I mean come on now.  Give me a break.  (Ha, see what I did there?  Give me a break?  Kit kat bar?)  These were working people, too.  And I get it.  I do.  Because I was in school once and I read the textbooks that say hard work gets you money.  So I, even though I was poor, was someone who looked down on poor people (including myself) and made every judgment possible.  But at some point you start to realize that you’re in the same boat.  That you’ve been out of high school for a few years now, that you’re working hard, and you still can’t afford to sleep peacefully at night.  And when that happens you need to ask yourself if hard work really does mean you’ll make money.  And after you ask yourself that question, you’ll see that no, it does not.  Not often anyway.  Hard work alone doesn’t get you anything but a really sore body and/or mind.  And if you don’t realize all of this right away, FINE.  But then listen to fellow poor people and working class people.  And believe them.  Start developing class consciousness.

And honestly, this might sound harsh because it is, but evaluate what kind of person you want to be.  As recently as two years ago I was spouting some of that “well if you get two jobs and dress nicely you can get out of poverty” and “if you were really poor you wouldn’t be spending $5 on McDonalds” bullshit.  But then I thought about it, and I don't want to be someone who cares about a man spending $1 of his food stamps on a candy bar.  I don't want to be the kind of person who thinks wearing your pants around your knees justifies police brutality.

Poverty is more complex than that.  I’m going to write a follow up on how fucking hard it is to be poor but want to be not-poor, but I need to wait until my brain isn’t just a sphere of rage….

Speaking of rage.  STOP FUCKING TELLING PEOPLE TO NOT BE ANGRY.  You know how people insult black people by saying, “it’s just another angry black wo/man.”  That is messed up, man.  First, anger isn’t what’s motivating every single thing every single moment.  Also, black people have every right to be angry.  We’re still a racist country and world and black people are losing their brothers, sisters, daughters, and sons every day, whether to murder, the school to prison pipeline, depression, what have you.  That is 100% justification for anger.  And when poor people complain about their struggles, stop telling them to shut up and stop whining.  Stop telling them to work harder.  We’re living in the richest country in the world, and we are starving.  And/or cold.  And/or sick.  For no other reason than we were born into poverty.  (I’m not even delving into intersectionality right now.) 

Similarly, stop shitting on the word “entitlement.”  I get that it’s hard to change your entire worldview from a capitalist one to a humane one, but people are entitled to a good livelihood.  In a world of resources (resources that are being depleted by the rich, by the way), there is no reason for poverty.  I wake up in the morning, and I should – absolutely should – have food, regardless of my character.  And while hard work should get you nice things, it’s also basic decency to keep people fed and clothed, no matter what.  And almost all poor people work hard.  Harder than most.  Yet they suffer in unimaginable ways.    

I get up every morning, go to work, come home, go back to work, come home, and go to bed.  I eat a few meals in between.  I postpone my laundry to days where I know I get my paycheck.  I pay whichever bills I can.  I leave $1.01 in my bank account so that I can fill my car up at the gas station on credit, knowing I have a few days before they take the money out, and hoping I can either ask a family member or get a medical reimbursement before then, or else pay the $35 overdraft fee.  It’s a constant nightmare and struggle.  I’m 23 and have to consider almost daily the idea of moving back in with my family, which is plain and simple bad for my mental and physical health.

None of this is okay, none of it is what any person deserves, and all of it is completely preventable with some class consciousness and solidarity.  The ultra-rich are the ones to blame and are the ones who must be stopped. 

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Charlotte