Humility

I recently watched a video of a social experiment where a young man was asking fairly well off looking people for one dollar at a gas station because he was out of gas and he had no money to get home. All of them refused. He then asked a homeless man that was standing on the side of the road for one dollar and the man replied that he only had $.25 to his name. He then reached into his pocket and gave the man his last $.25. The man then responded that it was a social experiment and gave him $180 from his own pocket for being willing to share his last quarter. The homeless man was thrilled. What that says to me is that those who have the least are usually the most willing to share. Perhaps because they know what it feels like to not have. I never want to become a person who has so much that I forget how to share.

The other day, a woman's car broke down in front of me. I pulled into the lane next to hers because I saw her hazard lights flashing. She indicated with a motion for me to roll down my window. We were sitting at the red light side by side. A panhandler standing at the intersection offered to help. He dropped his cardboard sign and ran down to the street to a nearby garage on the corner. I turned on my turn signal so that I could pull over from the left lane to help and not have her car in a position to get hit by any traffic behind us. She still had her hazards on as well. It was obvious she had car problems to anyone that was in the area. When the traffic light turned green a man in the car behind me began honking his horn and yelling as though he had completely lost his mind. Then he sped off before I could complete the turn, swerving around me very aggressively, as if to make his point of irritation more evident. There was absolutely no compassion. No caring about anyone else but himself. 

Why though? Shouldn’t all of us be thankful that we survived a pandemic? Thankful for life, prosperity and privilege? 

Growing up we weren’t well off but we weren’t poor either. I was technically born into a middle-class family. For her own reasons my mother wanted her independence from our family life of living with my grandmother 2 uncles and an aunt in a 4 bedroom house in the suburbs, to the freedom to be a single mother on her own terms. So she struck out on her own with my brother and me in tow. That unfortunately planted us into a lower socioeconomic subgroup. Far too many single parents experience this phenomenon. I remember I began to wear some hand-me-down clothing around this time and I remember not having anything to decorate my walls with in my bedroom. In hindsight there are much bigger issues at play here. I remember having to leave that apartment to a much smaller apartment because my mother just didn't make enough money of her own to maintain that level of  lifestyle either. We then moved into a one bedroom apartment where my mom and my little brother shared a bedroom and I slept on the sofa. Often times I would hangout or sleep in the closet just to have some privacy as a teenaged girl. Just around that time I was accepted to a private boarding school with a full ride scholarship and went away to be educated with a premium education. Returning home to my sofa was painful and also embarrassing for me. I was a teenager. I didn’t get what my mom was trying to accomplish. I understand now. That time in my life has taught me a lot of things. It taught me how to survive. How to be resilient and tough. It taught me how to live in my creative space. It taught me to be grateful and humble. Being educated at a school like Foxcroft helped me to develop who it is that I am. It has been a journey. Life is never a straight or smooth path. I learned what it was like to live on the both sides. Wealth and privilege vs poverty and scrapping by. I was living both sides simultaneously. It gave me drive and ambition. It made me learn what it was that I needed to do to change my own circumstances. I learned class and etiquette. I learned that sophistication is available to everyone. I was lucky to have been taught manners and proper speech from my parents and grandparents. At least I had the basics. One of my professors told me in my sophomore year at Foxcroft that I was on a trajectory that would only go higher. He wasn't wrong. I worked very hard and often times had two careers at once along the way. Hard work is necessary. Allow me to repeat that…. HARD WORK IS NECESSARY!!! Not because it can develop economic benefits but because it develops character. 

I am very proud of where I came from. I am very proud of where I’ve been able to get to this far. Are there regrets? Would I change things along the way? Perhaps. I don’t dwell in that head space. Being a girl from North Braddock Pennsylvania that now lives in Paris is a source of pride for me. I am proud of the woman that I’ve become. And I am more than grateful to be able to reach back and hopefully inspire a young person with beginnings just like me. 

Today I went out to run a few errands after doing a little work on some business stuff. I grabbed a few items for my husband then headed down to the strip district in Pittsburgh for some Pittsburgh Penguin’s gear. While I was there I decided to go by the vegetable market for fresh produce. I also grabbed a bottle of water. I had to pay with my debit card because I had $1 left in my wallet. It’s a gorgeous day so I dropped the top to enjoy some sunshine. All of these things a a privilege. As I pulled up to the stop light a few blocks form home, a young man was selling flowers and trinkets. He said “ma’am do you’ve any spare change?” I was heading to the bank so I knew that I had no cash… except for that 1 dollar. So I gave him the dollar. He asked if I had water. I said I had the half bottle left but I had already drank from it. He said that’s fine. So I gave him that too. He was visibly overjoyed. He said god bless you ma’am. I watched as several cars started pulling up as well. I watched as some rolled up their windows to separate themselves from obvious poverty and most avoided making any eye contact. He was clean. He was sober. He posed no threat. 

I am a 60 year old black woman driving a red convertible. He was a 30 something white man standing on the corner trying to make a few dollars. Either of our circumstances could be different. I am not better than he and he is no better than me. I didn’t give much but I gave what I had and he appreciated that gesture. If nothing else the incidents of the last couple days helped to open my eyes again. It nudged me as a reminder to never forget. I need these reminders from time to time. We all do I suppose. I will continue to be grateful and to count my blessings. I will continue to try to be kind. But moreover, I will never forget where I came from.