I grew up in pretty different way. My dad was a construction worker and we moved around a lot. There are six of us kids, and I'm the youngest, the only one still living today. In my youth there were four of us at home, the two oldest already on their own in the world. Three girls, myself the only boy at home, along with Mom and Dad lived in a trailer. When we moved that trailer pulled by our family vehicle held all our possessions. In each new place the trailer, our home, was usually located on the edge of town or across the tracks, however you might want to describe it.
For the most part I never realized that was anything to think about in a social sense. I had good food to eat and warm bed at night. When I reached my teen age years I was the only child left at home. We had once again moved, and there was a very sweet classmate that I had a huge crush on. Shortly after I let the damsel know of my feelings I got a pretty rude awakening. It seems that this girls mother made it clear to her that she was to have nothing to do with that poor white trash kid. I recall going home an asking my mother what "poor white trash" was. That was one of the few times I saw Mom cry because of me.
Now in what is the fourth quarter of my life, I admit that I have thought back on that event. My perspective is considerably different now. I had the opportunity to see our society through a lens that my contemporaries barely knew existed. My real friends never put me down because of where I lived. I got a really good education, and along the way I garnered some street smarts that many around me lacked. What is really came down to is the fact that even in the type of home I lived in we were family and we cared for each other.
For the most part I never realized that was anything to think about in a social sense. I had good food to eat and warm bed at night. When I reached my teen age years I was the only child left at home. We had once again moved, and there was a very sweet classmate that I had a huge crush on. Shortly after I let the damsel know of my feelings I got a pretty rude awakening. It seems that this girls mother made it clear to her that she was to have nothing to do with that poor white trash kid. I recall going home an asking my mother what "poor white trash" was. That was one of the few times I saw Mom cry because of me.
Now in what is the fourth quarter of my life, I admit that I have thought back on that event. My perspective is considerably different now. I had the opportunity to see our society through a lens that my contemporaries barely knew existed. My real friends never put me down because of where I lived. I got a really good education, and along the way I garnered some street smarts that many around me lacked. What is really came down to is the fact that even in the type of home I lived in we were family and we cared for each other.