I am a recent college graduate and spend much of my time debating (either internally or with others) the topics discussed here. I am a caucasian woman born into the middle-class and I have had every educational and extracurricular opportunity. My parents are incredibly hard working individuals and I love them, but I have always struggled with what Gabriel touches on in describing the wealth and privilege or lack-there-of that is inevitably transferred simply with reproduction and circumstance. Beyond biology (and as a queer woman who wants children, I am quite beyond biology), I am a product of my parents’ ideals, whether I do or do not ascribe to them. It is difficult to reject the capitalist system in which wealth is so intertwined with the nuclear family because it has made my parents, my brother, and my cat happy, but I still believe it is ultimately wrong.

Also, I struggle with the fact that because I am a college grad with debt, the thought of engaging in a ‘radical’ act – such as not paying that debt, or anything that challenges the system of which I am apart – will lessen my future ability to, quite frankly, garner a salary that will afford me the financial privilege to make social change and have (as Per mentioned)’decision-making power.’ Volunteerism (as is work in a non-profit) is in many ways a luxury – if I did not have the financial ability to survive myself (years of working at a small deli), I could not survive right now on my meager salary of a bit more than $11,000 and AmeriCorps wouldn’t be an option… So if I want to have children and continue to have ‘decision-making power’ while knowing IVF costs a whole lot of capital and my state just told me I do not have the same right to marry and gain those financial rights as everyone else, does this mean I should plan to sell my soul (give in) and live comfortably? (I don’t actually believe this – I would love an honest response, though).

One more thought (sorry I am so scattered here): can I be effective working with poverty and toward community/economic development if I myself have never experienced poverty? There is nothing in which I believe more than leveling the socio-economic ‘playing field,’ but am I an effective advocate due to my personal and familial history? I have always wanted to work in academia, but can I be effective there? How can I study law because of my burning interest in it, without ever ceasing to be an advocate for the public good?

thank you all for your thoughts.

I am reading this rather belatedly, but I so appreciate it. Your caring, insight, and analysis as always challenge and inspire me.

The one piece of this dialogue that particularly struck me at the moment is the tension between giving to friends/friends/family loved ones and giving to people you don’t know or investing in poc led organizations fighting for social change.

There’s a Muslim tradition that it is better/more favored to give Saddaqa (which I’ve often seen translated as charity or alms) to family members and neighbors who are in need as compared with unknown others. I’m not exactly sure what the reason behind that is, although I got from the examples in hadith something about how it’s not so good to just give in some removed way and feel like you’ve done you’re duty while ignoring the fact that your next door neighbor or sister or somebody else who should be close to you in your community hasn’t been able to put food on the table that week.

I have mixed feelings and I think Nat has a lot of good points. I like the idea of investing in one another in local communities and kinship networks. Giving to (and receiving from) people we know seems like it could help build community and ease some of the anxious belief that we will always need to fend for ourselves even more than long distance giving could. I also think it’s really important for us to try to support each other in being able to ask for (financial, physical, emotional, or other) types of help from one another when we need it. There’s something powerful about realizing in a personal, day-to-day way how interdependent we all are and to practice letting go of some of the shame, guilt, and resentment associated with asking/having/giving resources in our society. It’s also just human to want to be there for the people we love and I don’t know that that’s a bad thing.

At the same time, a lot of the people I am personally close with and who have financial needs are still much more privileged and often have lesser needs in many ways than a lot of the people whom I am less close to. Is giving to the people I know another way to keep wealth consolidated among more privileged people? Plus, while I think giving money to people directly is important, I do think that investing in poc-led community organizing that addresses fundamental systemic problems of power is a better way to move toward long term change. Also, so much wealth is already accumulated in the US through imperialist exploitation of much of the rest of the world. Is giving locally–even to grassroots by/for social change organizations–a way of perpetuating that imbalance? How could I ever give responsibly to groups that aren’t local though, when I have comparatively so much less understanding of local dynamics elsewhere and what different groups are like? As Per pointed out, it is really uncomfortable–and a part of the underlying problem–that I even have the power to make these kinds of decision.

On a somewhat related note, what I’m also really thinking about is how having kids can change the way we think about and deal with money. As you know, I grew up rich and for the last few years have had a salary that began in the upper 30s and is now edging into the upper 40s. I have always been totally happy with that salary, which has seemed more than adequate for my needs. I live in an apartment in Brooklyn I rent with roommates, which to me seems great. Earning more money has not seemed particularly important or desirable to me.

Now, though, I am starting for the first time to really consider if I want to have children. I have tons of political/personal questions about whether (and if so how) it would be okay for me to parent a kid, particularly in terms of race and racism as a white queer person. But also, I realize that when I start thinking along the lines or parenting, I start thinking really differently about money and class. I start thinking that I will have to earn more and think differently about my career and life choices as a result. I would “need” a bigger place, I would “need” to have enough to pay for food and clothes and insurance and toys and other sundries for the child–would I save (hoard) for my kid’s college education? my parents did for mine. would I pay for my kid to get private classes in music or martial arts or what have you? my parents did for me. would I take my kid on fancy vacations? my parents took me. would I take out a life insurance policy with my kid as a beneficiary in case something happens to me? my parents did. Some means of having a kid, particularly for queers, can cost money too. I believe kids can have happy lives without a lot of luxuries, but still a part of me feels like it would be my _duty_ to provide as much as I could.

Wealthy white people leaving their wealth to their white children is such an incredibly direct example of unearned privilege passing from one generation to the next. I’ve always assumed that should I inherit a chunk of money some day (I suppose it is fairly likely that I will) I would just give away all the money very quickly (or at least the vast majority of it). I’ve also always assumed that when I make a will (it seems unimportant right now when I have so much more debt than assets), I would leave all (or at least the vast majority) of my money to social change organizations. But if I had a kid, I think I would suddenly feel tempted to leave some to that kid, perpetuating that exact same legacy of racist wealth distribution.

If I were to have a kid, how much spending would be responsible investing in caring for another human being? How much would just be the perpetuation of privilege, rampant consumerism, and the shunning of responsibility and opportunities for creating a more caring world for all kids in favor of protecting my “own”? How does one avoid thinking of child rearing as an individual or nuclear (if alternative) family oriented undertaking? The capitalist longings for “security” that I can to some extent mute or dismiss when I am just thinking about me take on a whole new ferocity when I contemplate raising a kid.

I’m just at the very beginnings of thinking about this stuff, noticing these feelings of mine, and voicing these questions to myself. I’m curious about how other people have asked or answered these questions, particularly if they have thought about having kids or do have them.

Best,
Gabriel

As one who comes from a similar background, I struggle every single day with the fact that I am getting my PhD at one of the top universities in the country. Meanwhile, my mom is barely able to afford the rent for her trailer on what she earns as a cashier at Walmart.

I won’t try to tell you how you should handle this situation. What I WILL say is that I admire the fact that you are trying.

You can’t save the world, but you sure can make your little corner of it a better place. I have no doubt that you will do just that.

If you are looking for ideas about where to spend your time and money:

Older adolescents who are aging out of the foster care system. You can read about their plight by doing a search for Dr. Curtis McMillen on Google Scholar.

I wonder if buying real estate for the purpose of renting to those of us with “bad credit scores” is radical.

also, I have a raised-poor friend who is buying small pieces of land and re-wilding them in community.

Even with my parent’s hippy commune foibles, I trust that there will be a place for me to stand in community as I age.

lots lots to think about. thanks!

Just one perspective to add to the buying a house issue — some of us who have put years into fighting de facto forced urban displacement in solidarity with working class people, in cities like DC, have also shifted energy at times to exploring sustainable alternatives to “affordable housing” paradigms (and squats, which in DC haven’t been sustainable). Like urban land trusts, and in some places cohousing. Gentrification has been so aggressive here that exploring those alternatives, even ones where, for instance, a class privileged activist may become a landlord and rent to working class immigrant families, which does happen here, even that has been considered a kind of neighborhood self-defense strategy. One longtime affordable housing activist who bought years ago in a redlined neighborhood rents out two houses to multiple families, for about 40% of market rent. And about ten years ago eight or so working class women housing activists started a limited equity housing coop with down payments cobbled together and help from a nonprofit developer, which has since become less than friendly to them. But the coop remains, and it’s too bad more folks hadn’t taken that initiative when housing prices were a third what they are now; it’s become an anchor for all kinds of grassroots struggle, in a place where public space, to say nothing of grassroots event space, has become scarce. Not saying that these examples are necessarily applicable, but they’re at least interesting from the perspective of strategies used to keep cities income diverse, and support folks who are doing that work. And, perhaps just as critically, keeping community space alive in neighborhoods where folks of color and working class people are being forced out and the geography is being hijacked for the rich.

Thanks again for sharing all of this Dean.

-a

Just one perspective to add to the buying a house issue — some of us who have put years into fighting de facto forced urban displacement in solidarity with working class people, in cities like DC, have also shifted energy at times to exploring sustainable alternatives to “affordable housing” paradigms (and squats, which in DC haven’t been sustainable). Like urban land trusts, and in some places cohousing. Gentrification has been so aggressive here that exploring those alternatives, even ones where, for instance, a class privileged activist may become a landlord and rent to working class immigrant families, which does happen here, even that has been considered a kind of neighborhood self-defense strategy. One longtime affordable housing activist who bought years ago in a redlined neighborhood rents out two houses to multiple families, for about 40% of market rent. And about ten years ago eight or so working class women housing activists started a limited equity housing coop with down payments cobbled together and help from a nonprofit developer, which has since become less than friendly to them. But the coop remains, and it’s too bad more folks hadn’t taken that initiative when housing prices were a third what they are now; it’s become an anchor for all kinds of grassroots struggle, in a place where public space, to say nothing of grassroots event space, has become scarce. Not saying that these examples are necessarily applicable, but they’re at least interesting from the perspective of strategies used to keep cities income diverse, and support folks who are doing that work. And, perhaps just as critically, keeping community space alive in neighborhoods where folks of color and working class people are being forced out and the geography is being hijacked for the rich.

Thanks again for sharing all of this Dean.

-a

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about class, ownership, status and how they correspond to notions of success and maturation. An ever increasing number of my (mainly queer) friends are buying big items, like cars, furniture or homes with significant others. These purchases seem to correspond with plans to establish themselves as a “family” through marriage contracts and/or children. I feel happy that they’re happy, but conflicted by the conflated significance of their consumerism and status as a family. I’m trying to navigate my discomfort with consumption and my participation in consumerism. I clearly have a lot to learn, but your writing has helped focus my thoughts. Thanks again.

Sincerely, Pre