Oliver M.
2/23/16
Christmas used to be a surprise. I remember rising at the crack of dawn, racing to my parents room to wake them up, excited about all of the gifts I was about to receive. As I grew older, the surprises stopped. I began telling my parents what I wanted, and then expecting it to be under the tree on Christmas morning. It almost always was, and although I was grateful, I took my privilege for granted. I miss those surprises, the magic of that cold December morning, curled up by the fire with me family. After the holidays, I would always ask my friends what they had gotten. Some had a very similar list to mine; videogames, clothing, gift-cards and toys. Some didn’t like to talk about it. My twelve year-old brain couldn’t figure out why. Why wasn’t my experience universal? I never even thought that those who were less fortunate didn’t get showered with gifts like I had been throughout my youth.
It wasn’t a surprise for them to wake up and find nothing under the tree, or even a tree at all. Sitting in the kitchen, huddled next to the oven to keep warm. These aren’t very festive thoughts. I was content with my sheltered reality, blessed that I was never forced to think about these hardships. Hardships that define many people’s lives.
Growing up, I was taught to never ask how much money my parents made. As long as there was food on the table and clothes on my back, I was totally happy with staying out of those matter and focusing on being a kid. Going to school, hanging out with friends, my life was full of hidden luxury. I can’t remember a night where I wasn’t able to eat three meals a day, or a year where my parents didn’t take me back-to-school shopping. Although the have worked very hard to provide for me throughout my life, they were dealt a good hand as well. Both of my parents come from successful, affluent and well-connected backgrounds. They both attended private universities and work well-paying jobs. Living the American dream, without the burden of starting with nothing and working their way up.
When I got to Putney, I was truly exposed to the concept of immense wealth for the first time. At first, I felt self conscious. I wasn’t sure if my clothing and mannerisms would fit the Putney mold. I quickly learned how accepting this community is, but Putney is not the real world. People get ridiculed for being on either end of the broad socioeconomic spectrum. Being poor and being wealthy both come with their own respective stereotypes, which can force people to conceal their social class by wearing different clothing or code-switching depending on who surrounds them. I have been lucky throughout my life to not have to be conscious of these issues, but many people aren’t so lucky.
Social class, much like race, is something that you are born into. If a person is born poor, they are automatically at a disadvantage for the rest of their lives, forced to fight in order to obtain the same goals and aspirations that are just handed to people of higher socioeconomic status. The entire idea of the American Dream is that through hard work and dedication, one can always transcend hardship and rise up the ladder to wealth and success. This is the founding principle of our economy, and our country only runs when the majority of its citizens subscribe to this vital belief system. It sounds pretty fucking sweet, too. It’s quite empowering for the less fortunate to be surrounded by the ideology that anything is possible, with constant media coverage of these stories of people making something out of nothing. This is what keeps them doing their jobs, in hopes of someday achieving the desired financial status. What the media fails to highlight, however, is that this dream hardly ever manifests into reality. With the mind-boggling income disparity and the power and influence that the wealthy have over our government, these systems that benefit very few and negatively affect many are difficult to break.
The people in power are constantly praying on the less fortunate. Instilling false hope and optimism that translates to the proliferation of the very ideals that are boxing these people in in the first place. Being optimistic isn’t a bad thing, it’s good to have the drive to alter your situation and make a better life for yourself, but this optimism shouldn’t translate into blind obedience. The opacity of the government, of our social systems, needs to become translucent, so that people can really see the causes and effects of their decisions and actions, who their ballads are actually benefitting. And I guarantee that if this were a reality, capitalism would seem like a nightmare, not a dream.
Putney Mediates the Media 