I was reading an obituary of the senior curator of antiquities of the British Museum (because, why wouldn't I?) And was struck by a sentence:
"What not many people will know is that he came from what would once have been called a 'humble', that is a working-class, background."
It had barely occured to me, during my year working at another big museum, that I have one of these so called humble backgrounds. Humbler probably than the average middle class, since I spent most of my childhood in a dirty truck working with my dad and kind rugged men and coming home filthy. I wonder if that isn't part of the reason I shrink a little (or secretly roll my eyes a little) when the situation is overly "professional."
It all depends on perspective I guess, because I think people now consider me one of the fortunate fancy people, since most of my social circle is composed of struggling artists, entertainers, and immigrants, who survive only with three jobs each and multiple roommates. It's a tough city. I'm a gentle frail woman. I have no idea how I managed to get here. It's a blend of luck, smarts, and kindness I've given out being reflected back to me.
I wonder if the sociopaths who step on people to climb ahead will ever realize they don't need to battle each other every day to thrive. Literally all I did was be good to people. It's nearly effortless and I sleep great at night in my beautiful apartment.
But I spent all night dreaming I was in my old humble town, wandering a giant antique store owned by an old lady. Beautiful saddled horses meandered outside the rusty tin gates. Friendly people stopped in to say hello.
What a warm sweet place I grew up in. That's the real privilege. If only everyone had been as lucky to experience childhood between rolling hills with birds and glorious sunsets and the smell of everyone cooking dinner at once. One of my childhood neighbors bought back the house she grew up in, to raise her kids in, and I think that's the most beautiful thing ever. I'm so grateful I was able to hug everyone in town last year and express all the gratitude I'd kept bottled up for the past 20 years. I didn't know it'd be my last chance for a while to hug anyone. I'm glad I spent my hugs there.
8:37 a.m. - 2020-12-20