On Tuesday we discussed diversity in families and social classes. I grew up in a town with people from many different backgrounds. Some people were really rich and they lived in the housing development called "Green Pastures". Others lived in town and those who lived in the center of Marysville, I would consider maybe a lower class. I was never really certain. I tended to live in my own little bubble back home. My family was middle class. We had everything we needed and were satisfied. I loved living in this "class" because I never felt like I lacked anything, I never really struggled, and I could help those around me who may have been less fortunate. My father worked all day (until seven, at least) and always met our needs. GO DAD!
I wish I could go more in depth about my families' culture and background, I totally could, but I'm pretty sure my fingers would fall off from typing too much (that's gross). I did want to share one story though in relation to what we talked about in Thursday's class. On Thursday we talked about immigration and the costs of getting ahead. I will reassure you that I am legal, and so is everyone else in my family. I just had a similar experience when my family moved to Utah from Ohio, my sophomore year of high school. The effects from that move, I feel, has definitely influenced my family structure.
My family moved for several reasons which will not be explained, but the move was fast, a little unexpected, and necessary to ensure our families safety. My mother took me and my siblings to live with my Grandma in Utah while my father stayed behind in Ohio to sell our house. As we acted out an immigration scenario in class I couldn't help but relate the case to my own families' experience. My parents were apart for about six months and it definitely took a toll on their relationship. My father was very lonely at the house even though Collette (our dog) stayed with him. I never realized how traumatic this experience was until later and when we discussed similar things in class. My parents were physically separated, my siblings and I had no idea what was going on, we fought a lot and I could feel our family falling apart. One day we found out that our dad had given Collette up because she was so depressed and my father could not satisfy her needs on his own while trying to care for us from afar. I WAS FURIOUS! I hated my dad for the longest time and it had taken me several years to finally see things from his point of view and that he did what was necessary. I felt selfish! My dad was alone for six months while we moped around.
We finally moved back home mainly because we could not sell the house. Once my family was reunited, I felt a stronger bond. My family felt more love for one another and I felt more unified. You don't know what you got til' it's gone.