My blue-collar father who went to high school at night in his teens while working during the day in the 1920s, who told both his daughters in the 1950s and 1960s that high school was "good enough" for women, would be mystified to hear his younger daughter included in "the educated elite." I went to a regular public (i.e., paid for by Roman Catholic taxpayers) high school where we were taught political responsibility along with classical thinkers like Plato (in Latin), so, yeah I was educated. So were all of the children in my working class neighborhood. And, like many of my friends, I and my parents watched the nightly news after dinner and read our daily city newspapers (one morning, one evening, each with a slightly different political bent.) On Fridays, we filled in the weekly current events quizzes that were provided to schools by said newspapers. We were free to, both inside our homes and in our schools, in the cafes, debate the issues of the day, for example, what was going on in the US with civil rights, with the Vietnam War? How were we impacted here in Canada and what did we ourselves believe about those issues? Many of us had American relatives, and Vermont and New York State were barely an hour away; border crossings for Canadians and Americans for a day of shopping or vacations were no big deal back in the day.
Still, unlike Americans, who for the most part were barely aware of Canadian politics, our then Prime Ministers, our teachers, reminded us often that living beside the US was like sleeping with the elephant. While still in grade school, I remember huddling with my mother at night during the Cuban Missile Crisis as our NORAD warning system was tested on air. We had been told quite bluntly at school that if Russia were going to fire missiles, it might well be right over Canada, where the US would shoot them down. Educated and elite? In Montreal, it didn't matter whether you lived in upper class Westmount or working class Rosemont, you all huddled and listened and prayed. We gave thanks when we were told that the US and Russia had reached an agreement and that crisis passed.
But back to this idea of "educated elite." I paid for my own night university classes while working as a secretary during the day, finally achieving a BA in History after 7 years. As a woman coming of age in the 1970s, I felt looked down upon for being "only a secretary" and determined that I was more than a typist and coffee maker (besides I was useless with a photocopier.) I worked hard at obtaining those credentials, first a bachelor's and then a master's degree, all done part-time, that made me eligible for better jobs. Did I encounter elitists, who made it to those jobs simply on the basis of where they went to school and who they met there? Of course I did, but that wasn't me. I did not, still don't, believe that organizations, and especially, governments should be run by a group of people for their own self interest, educated or not. That part, the "self interest" part, is what people ignore about Plato's writings. It was an ideal--that people could be educated to look BEYOND their self interest. That ignored aspect of Plato's writings is something that could well be debated and understood and we could all grow from it--if we still believed in introducing young people to Plato and debating. But in general we don't, so we throw around now meaningless terms like "educated elite" without understanding where that term came from, and that it didn't mean just Ivy League graduates.
Still, this IS Thanksgiving, so here's what I give thanks for:
I give thanks that I was able to obtain US citizenship this year while still retaining my Canadian. Those two citizenships represent two countries that have greatly influenced me as I grew up to adulthood.
I am grateful that I grew up among diverse, working-class, post WW2 immigrant families from whom I learned about loss and sacrifice close at hand, not just by the military but by ordinary citizens too. I also learned from those new immigrants about gratitude for new opportunities in a new country. There's nothing more humbling than watching kids at school with you who, barely able to speak English in first grade, go on to graduate from high school with honors and accept scholarships to universities, who then go home and switch to Ukrainian or Lithuanian to speak to their parents. Who remember where their parents came from and why they came to Canada, to the US.
I am grateful that I was accepted to feast at so many dining tables, in so many different countries, by people who were often "not like me" but were still welcoming and friendly and kind. Sometimes I hardly understood the languages they were speaking, the customs they were following, but they had made me a guest at their table. By their actions, watching them, listening to them, I knew that they were good people, kind people, who were grateful for the same things I was--freedom to live with dignity, to work, to love, to practice their faiths, their love of family no matter what that family looked like.
I am grateful for coming of age in the 1970s where ideas were broadly discussed, where capitalism, fascism and communism were discussed as political ideas by people who had actually experienced fascism and communism and knew what they were arguing against. Who knew the dangers of untrammeled capitalism. Knew how countries and populations get turned around.
I am grateful for making it to the age of 72 to see my grandchildren, one a 20 year old female, the other a 19 year old male, vote thoughtfully in the recent election. Despite our family being divided along political lines, we all voted according to our beliefs, while still respecting that others would vote differently. Perhaps this is my family's legacy. I grew up in a family divided along religious lines who, mostly, respected each other. Loved each other. So, just as my first family did, as so many families do, our family will gather around the Thanksgiving table today and there will be neither crowing over the election nor will there be bitterness. Our love and respect for each other outshines any passing politics.
This morning another Trump-voting friend of mine sent me a thank you for my Thanksgiving card that I had sent out to all of my friends, Trump-voting or not. She wrote "I treasure our friendship." That's where we begin again to heal and move forward.
Well said and Happy Thanksgiving, Valerie. Hugs..
ReplyDelete