Too Much?

Posted by: kittymckay on: August 10, 2010

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At the age of  twelve I was in sixth grade in Findlay Ohio.  The year was 1986, and I was just becoming aware of fashion and what was considered “cool”.  The colored Reebok high tops were all the rage.  There was a girl in my class named Amy, she had those shoes in every color.  She was also allowed to wear make up, she had long red hair, and everyone wanted to be her friend.  I was awkward, chubby, and had two-inch think glasses.  I think I was one of those kids that just tried to hard and ended up being annoying.  This was also the first year I started to become aware of social and economic differences.

The summer before seventh grade I wasted away to nothing.  I became obsessed with my weight and looking like everyone else.  My Mom saved money and took me to the mall in Toledo for school clothes.  I was so excited! Fancy jeans, a Coca-Cola shirt and a Benetton tee.  I thought for sure that I would fit in.  Not so much. I recall being at a football game and a girl named Heather in a huddle with a bunch of other girls turns and asks me” “How many pair of Guess jeans do you have?”  Then they all cackled when I said none.

Two weeks before the end of seventh grade we moved to Cary, North Carolina.  I went from  awkward, four eyed, bully bait to hitting puberty with a vengeance and not wearing glasses.  Add to the culture shock of moving from the north to the south, I moved in five houses down from one of the popular girls.  I entered into middle school under the wing of her popularity.  The social culture shock was overwhelming.  Those first few months of school were difficult.  Not only was I adjusting to a new school, new people, there were cultural differences I was not prepared for.  I can recall being cornered in the bathroom at West Cary by two girls as they explained to me that I was not allowed to be friends with black boys or I would get a bad reputation.  I was so confused, I couldn’t understand why being friends with anyone would get me a reputation.  So added to the confusion of a new school, new people there were these unspoken “rules” I had to follow to stay friends with the “popular girls.”

All these memories have come flooding back as I prepare to send my oldest to my old stomping grounds at West Cary.  Luckily my Tyler has always had his own sense of fashion and he could really care less what everyone else is wearing.  He likes what he likes, and tends to be a leader rather than a follower.  I have a feeling that if he were to get cornered and told not to be friends with someone because of their skin color he would be strong enough to tell them to shove it.  I hope that he loves middle school and high school and doesn’t become as label conscious as I was.

I hope that as my children get older that they are all well-adjusted enough to be secure in who they are, and not what they wear.  I do not want my kids to grow up with the expectation that things are just handed to them.  My Mom had me get a job as soon as I was legally allowed.  If I wanted to go to the movies with my friends I had to pay for it.  If I wanted new shoes because “that is what everyone was wearing” I had to pay for it.  At the time I often resented that I could keep up with the girls I hung out with, but as I have aged I appreciate the work ethic that my Mom instilled in me.

I worry about this generation of young people.  Every time I have had to hire at my store I get the most ridiculous young people in.  They walk in expecting to get paid $10 an hour, work when they want, and the act as if they are too good to take out the trash.  I actually had a young women come in to pick up an application wearing a skin-tight tee that read” One Crazy B*%#H.”   I have sat behind school buses as middle and high school girls walk off carrying Coach bags as book bags, and I wonder if they can appreciate the life they have, when right around the corner girls their same age can’t afford lunch.

Every parent wants their children to fit in and have friends.  I pray that I balance giving them what they need with giving them what they want.  I want my children to understand the difference between necessity and excess.  I want then to understand when it is too much.  I want them to appreciate the cost of things.  As they have gotten older and started asking for more expensive things I have been telling them how many hours of work it costs me.  Equating my time away from them with the cost of things has started to change their perspective.