Separating the Masses from the Classes

I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of class in our society. Primarily, I suppose, because we love to pretend it doesn’t exist in America to the extent that it does in other countries like England and India. Asian countries are no better in separating the masses into socio-economic-religious-ethnic categories which we all pretend don’t exist.

My grade school was one of the poorest Catholic schools in the city. It was an urban enclave of education in the midst of commercial/industrial downtown Saint Paul. The tiny four schoolroom building had a long history of serving the immigrant populations that lived along the Mississippi riverbank and in hovels behind the state capitol.

My high school was a little more subtle but not much. Even though it was an all-boys military school there were two very definitive educational tracks for the students to follow. There was the pre-college track and the non-college track and none the twain shall meet.

It was based on an assumption that our entrance exam scores, our neighborhoods of origin, and family backgrounds were a good indication of future success in life. Reflecting back on that classroom experience, I can see now how some of my Christian Brother and lay (always male) teachers were none too subtle in their attitude toward us non-college track pupils. It was never spoken out loud but the message was there none-the-less that higher education wasn’t going to be in our future.

College was much better in that we all pretty much came from middle classes lives and were in the same educational boat together. The teachers treated us with respect and an expectation of self-motivation. I ignored the classy cars in the parking lot and the hot babies those guys had wrapped around their arm at dances and lived in my own bubble. It worked for me.

Over the years, Sharon and I have carved out a comfortable life for ourselves. We’ve been blessed with two wonderful children and five fabulous grandchildren. We don’t have a lot of wants. What we have we have, what we don’t, we don’t. Fortunately, neither one of us has ever had expensive tastes in material things. That being said, I am still cognizant of how important the concept of class, success, and material goods are to so many. I was reminded of this during this last ‘Parade of Homes’ marketing push.

What used to be the ‘Parade of Homes’ has now morphed into the Artisan Home Tour. It should be called the rich people’s choice of where and how to live. Homebuilding is yet another subtle device for dividing neighborhoods into different social-economic (class) environments. Homes shown in the Artisan home tour are at the very top of the economic ladder.

The HGTV cable channel continues to program shows on its ‘House Hunters’ series that highlight couples seeking a new home that reflects their success in life. These homes have to scream ‘I’ve made it’ to anyone coming up the driveway. Their curb appeal, entrance area, impressive staircase going upstairs and master bath have to reflect a couple at the pinnacle of their material Everest.

While I understand this undercurrent of class segmentation has been around since the caveman, it came to light again recently when I read a fascinating book on the advent and growth of merchandizing in America and Europe before the turn of the century.

Growing up, I was heavily influenced by the ads of that period. It introduced me to a world far beyond my pocketbook but not my imagination. It was the sugar coating that flavored my reality with a taste of ‘what might be.’ In short, it was the age-old tale of the American Dream in portrait form in front of me.

Back in 2008, the near collapse of our world-wide financial system should have been a wakeup call for all Americans to pay more attention to their wallets and events happening around them. Unfortunately, not much seems to have changed over the ensuing years. Every day there are new financially-coated products, events, angles, schemes, and ‘can’t lose’ facades presented to the general public. Acceptance or rejection of these golden rings of opportunity often separate the masses. Some get it, others don’t.

To that end, financial literacy and media literacy are two vehicles that can separate the masses. Financial literacy is the ability to use one’s knowledge and skills to effectively manage financial resources, ideally for a lifetime of financial well-being.

Media literacy, on the other hand, is using common sense instead of letting some so-called journalists do it for you. A good definition can be found at Medialit.org. It reads as follows:

‘What is important to understand is that media literacy is not about "protecting" everyone from unwanted messages. Media literacy, therefore, is about helping folks become competent, critical, and literate in all media forms so that they control the interpretation of what they see or hear rather than letting the interpretation control them.

It simply comes down to that old, worn, yet so true cliché: Let the buyer beware. We all have the responsibility to listen and learn for ourselves instead of letting someone else do it for us. To use common sense instead of group-think and to forge our own path to enlightenment instead of following the crowd.

My own story of growing up poor has been chronicled in many blogs over the years. Again, it wasn’t something my friends and I were acutely aware of aside from the lack of a family car, no summer vacations, and few material things around the house. Most of us started working at an early age and accepted that as ‘par for the course.’

Sharon grew up doing chores at six years old on the farm. If the bulk tank wasn’t cleaned twice a day, her dad couldn’t sell his milk as grade A and there wouldn’t be a milk check at the end of the month. She remembers growing up with no sink in the kitchen but a shiny new bulk tank instead in the barn.

This idea of ‘rising above one’s raising’ is a central theme in one of my first novels ‘Love in the A Shau.’   There are certain advantages to being ‘born hungry’ as Daniel likes to say. I didn’t have a choice growing up but I’m not sure I would have changed a thing even if I could have. I’ve learned over the years that ‘growing up hungry’ is not a bad thing.

As nebulous as words like ambition, hunger, focus and striving might be, the simple fact is that nothing much has changed over the years. Yes, prices have gone up, some opportunities have disappeared and sometimes the future can be a dark and bleary horizon for a lot of folks. But the simple fact remains that a lot of the clichés we’ve heard over the years still ring true:

 Yes, these are all simple, sometimes simplistic but true clichés. Bottom line; it’s all up to you. We all begin as a part of the masses. The question is: where do we want to go from there?