I don't doubt that some of it is because of social media, but also some of it is because I've seen both sides of this coin, and it's a more like a diode than a coin: you can travel it in one direction, but the other side then becomes inaccessible to you.
I have friends and relatives that talk about vacations, massages, and wine tours. When I was a young mother, I was closer to some of that crowd. We all had collections, usually of expensive things. One neighbor collected Wedgewood. Another collected sapphire jewelry. I collected tricolor gold pieces.
Back then, if wine tours were a thing, I probably would have gone.
I have friends who go out to dinner once a week. I remember being able to afford to do that. Now they think I'm stand-offish because I don't... because I can't. I make excuses. No one wants to hear it's because I couldn't afford it. I don't want them to hear it, either.
It's been so long that I've adapted to poverty. I can't relate at all to wine tours and spa days. I can't conceive of how they would be pleasant or relaxing. I can conceive of them as a role in social bonding for a certain economic class... a class I am not in. I feel almost alien.
It's interesting when we discuss cohorts we are usually discussing generational cohorts. I know younger people don't want to associate with older people, and older people think they're still young (I know I do!) but I often think the bigger stratification comes with economic cohorts. Having entered the workforce through the economic restructuring of the Regan years, I was one of those tail end Boomers who didn't have the economic security of the older Boomers: I worked in companies that were closed down or sent overseas, and I worked in industries that went from full-time permanent jobs to contract work... and we're not talking about line work or flipping burgers, we're talking quality assurance and R&D.
I grew up with the expectation that I'd own my own home, go on family vacations, and maintain a certain socio-economic status. Regan shot that all down. Of course, as a Republican at the time, I was pretty much in the dark about how that came about, when obviously we were in some sort of economic boom. It didn't make sense that companies were cutting hours and benefits and severing the employee/employer loyalties that had been beneficial to both.
But I don't want this post to be about the failures of trickle-down economy. Only to point out that the social values I grew up with became as unattainable as the financial security to which they were so closely tied.
And I guess that's where the wilder path comes in for me. Because I don't feel a part of any cohort, either age or socio-economic. I am kept from living in a tent under a freeway by my years of poverty, which means I've done my time on housing wait lists and learning the programs available to me. I still carry the despair, loneliness and shame of poverty that keeps me more isolated. I am also kept from living a comfortable and social life by that same poverty, which means I don't even aspire to wine tours and spa days, or the kind of public social bonding that certain events involve.
I once volunteered at a Gala (Gala being, to me, the word for forever out of reach) I felt a certain envy for the way people who could afford tickets to the event glided through social interactions. I've forgotten how to do that. I guess that makes me more of a loner, whether I want to be or not. Jumping back in to that cohort takes something I'd have to work to regain (self confidence) and something I'm unlikely to ever regain (financial security).
It's hard, sometimes, to be an outsider. At other times I'm so wrapped up in doing things I can do (I'm big on free or low cost events/ fairs/ festivals, as well as walks in nature) that I really don't think about what it means to be so solitary in my pursuits.
I suspect there's a lot of people like me out there. My people. My cohort. I'm just not sure how to connect with them.
I have friends and relatives that talk about vacations, massages, and wine tours. When I was a young mother, I was closer to some of that crowd. We all had collections, usually of expensive things. One neighbor collected Wedgewood. Another collected sapphire jewelry. I collected tricolor gold pieces.
Back then, if wine tours were a thing, I probably would have gone.
I have friends who go out to dinner once a week. I remember being able to afford to do that. Now they think I'm stand-offish because I don't... because I can't. I make excuses. No one wants to hear it's because I couldn't afford it. I don't want them to hear it, either.
It's been so long that I've adapted to poverty. I can't relate at all to wine tours and spa days. I can't conceive of how they would be pleasant or relaxing. I can conceive of them as a role in social bonding for a certain economic class... a class I am not in. I feel almost alien.
It's interesting when we discuss cohorts we are usually discussing generational cohorts. I know younger people don't want to associate with older people, and older people think they're still young (I know I do!) but I often think the bigger stratification comes with economic cohorts. Having entered the workforce through the economic restructuring of the Regan years, I was one of those tail end Boomers who didn't have the economic security of the older Boomers: I worked in companies that were closed down or sent overseas, and I worked in industries that went from full-time permanent jobs to contract work... and we're not talking about line work or flipping burgers, we're talking quality assurance and R&D.
I grew up with the expectation that I'd own my own home, go on family vacations, and maintain a certain socio-economic status. Regan shot that all down. Of course, as a Republican at the time, I was pretty much in the dark about how that came about, when obviously we were in some sort of economic boom. It didn't make sense that companies were cutting hours and benefits and severing the employee/employer loyalties that had been beneficial to both.
But I don't want this post to be about the failures of trickle-down economy. Only to point out that the social values I grew up with became as unattainable as the financial security to which they were so closely tied.
And I guess that's where the wilder path comes in for me. Because I don't feel a part of any cohort, either age or socio-economic. I am kept from living in a tent under a freeway by my years of poverty, which means I've done my time on housing wait lists and learning the programs available to me. I still carry the despair, loneliness and shame of poverty that keeps me more isolated. I am also kept from living a comfortable and social life by that same poverty, which means I don't even aspire to wine tours and spa days, or the kind of public social bonding that certain events involve.
I once volunteered at a Gala (Gala being, to me, the word for forever out of reach) I felt a certain envy for the way people who could afford tickets to the event glided through social interactions. I've forgotten how to do that. I guess that makes me more of a loner, whether I want to be or not. Jumping back in to that cohort takes something I'd have to work to regain (self confidence) and something I'm unlikely to ever regain (financial security).
It's hard, sometimes, to be an outsider. At other times I'm so wrapped up in doing things I can do (I'm big on free or low cost events/ fairs/ festivals, as well as walks in nature) that I really don't think about what it means to be so solitary in my pursuits.
I suspect there's a lot of people like me out there. My people. My cohort. I'm just not sure how to connect with them.
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