Hi! I’m Brenda (but you can call me Mal), I live in the southern part of the state of Georgia with my husband, youngest daughter, a dog, a cat and a turtle.
The only experience I have with class is what I have lived, when folks were always telling me I was so strong to make it through the single-mother years, where I don’t remember it being that hard. Or maybe I’m just forgetful like that. I have no education to tell me whether I am working class or lower-middle class or living barely above the poverty level. I also have ties to education (both of my parents taught at some point, my dad at vo-tech schools and my mom taught the kids younger than her after she finished 8th grade in Newfoundland; I have always worked as some form of support staff for an institution of higher education) that are difficult to unravel from my images of myself and my family.
I have always lived in Georgia. I lived my first two years in a house, then spent six years living in a singlewide trailer in a trailer park, then spent two more years in a house, then a trailer with my mom and brother when my parents divorced, then…so mobile homes (or manufactured homes, as a friend of mine insisted on calling them when she moved into one) and I have a long history and a hate/hate relationship. I used to not sleep at night if thunderstorms threatened because of the whole tornado/trailer park association.
My interest in class discussion is mainly for my own understanding, especially after a posting by wrdnrd that made me re-evaluate my reaction to an e-mail circulating last year about outfit choices of people frequenting a certain buy-everything-here chain store.
I am a white, 41 year old hetero female, not a redneck but love and am related to several, can’t decide if I’m a country girl or a city girl, and will probably unintentionally put my foot in my mouth at least once a month in these discussions. Please feel free to tell me when I am talking with my mouth full.
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branchandroot
(deep breath)
Date: 2010-04-18 03:05 am (UTC)The only experience I have with class is what I have lived, when folks were always telling me I was so strong to make it through the single-mother years, where I don’t remember it being that hard. Or maybe I’m just forgetful like that. I have no education to tell me whether I am working class or lower-middle class or living barely above the poverty level. I also have ties to education (both of my parents taught at some point, my dad at vo-tech schools and my mom taught the kids younger than her after she finished 8th grade in Newfoundland; I have always worked as some form of support staff for an institution of higher education) that are difficult to unravel from my images of myself and my family.
I have always lived in Georgia. I lived my first two years in a house, then spent six years living in a singlewide trailer in a trailer park, then spent two more years in a house, then a trailer with my mom and brother when my parents divorced, then…so mobile homes (or manufactured homes, as a friend of mine insisted on calling them when she moved into one) and I have a long history and a hate/hate relationship. I used to not sleep at night if thunderstorms threatened because of the whole tornado/trailer park association.
My interest in class discussion is mainly for my own understanding, especially after a posting by wrdnrd that made me re-evaluate my reaction to an e-mail circulating last year about outfit choices of people frequenting a certain buy-everything-here chain store.
I am a white, 41 year old hetero female, not a redneck but love and am related to several, can’t decide if I’m a country girl or a city girl, and will probably unintentionally put my foot in my mouth at least once a month in these discussions. Please feel free to tell me when I am talking with my mouth full.