My wife asked me to describe her - an exercise for a Sociology class. This was the result...
I am a woman. White. Protestant. Married. Mother.
The youngest of five. The baby. Daughter of a preacher.
I'm a Baby Boomer. A product of the 1950's puritan values; the Core family, extended universe; Church; Ozzie & Harriet time.
I grew up where and when children respected parents. Schools meant authority.
Drugs didn't exist.
Television was not only entertainment. I knew the Beaver. Believed in the bomb . . .
Learned the mantra of faith and family from Father Knows Best.
And the value of a good pot-roast from Harriet.
But the core of my identity comes from my past: where I lived; who my parents and grandparents were; what we were as a family; our family's role in our community; my role as a daughter, sister. I was the youngest of five - three girls and two boys. Contrary to the stereotypical "last child, hand-me-downs, poor-little-thing", as a child I felt special. We are from the south. My father married young, became a minister and worked as well. My mother really was Harriet Nelson - she took care of us: cooked, cleaned, and nurtured. Both parents had large families, each with seemingly thousands of relatives all around. We were never alone. There was always someone visiting or we were visiting someone. Nephews, cousins, nieces, aunts, uncles, were not just names but an integral part of our everyday life. My father's congregations provided an even more extended family.
My grandparents played an important role in our family. They were always there, offering hope, support, and, of course, suggestions on how to do things. We respected our elders. My mother and father instilled in us a sense of propriety that seems lost today. Somehow, the world seemed bigger then, but at the same time smaller - more . . . safe. I enjoyed this camaraderie, this sense of belonging.
Today I identify strongly with my childhood. This is my core being. I expect everyone to be polite, express respect for others, to treat me with respect. And yet…I couldn't wait to escape…
I grew up with idea of finding a man, getting married, and living the way they always showed on television. I wanted a pretty house; pretty kids, pretty clothes, pretty pet, pretty husband, and I expected it the minute I got married. I wanted a doting husband and kids that always smiled and minded their manners, just like I did. I wanted, well . . . I wanted it all perfect and, damn it, that’s the way it was going to be. I found my pretty husband. We met in church (that was good, the way it was supposed to be) but had a rocky courtship. He wanted to see the world and experience new things. I wanted to set up house and a family. He left to join the Navy saying that it was his way of contributing and getting the adventure he craved. I stayed at home and fumed. This was not perfect. This was not the way it was supposed to be. June Cleaver never got letters from Mr. Cleaver from some aircraft carrier. We got married during his second year in the service. I went out to join him and haven't looked back since.
It took longer to get our perfect child. After the Navy my husband took a job that required him to be away for long periods of time. I needed to become independent quickly. When my husband finally came home for an extended period, I discovered I had become independent to the point where I didn’t need anyone’s help or want anyone close. I discovered that as long as my husband's salary was coming in and he wasn’t around to spend it, that I could practically do anything I please. This was just perfect. After he came back, things just weren’t perfect anymore. I resented him.
We moved and built a house in a small southern town. It was a nice little town with lots of people our age. The house had a yard and a fence around the back. Just perfect for a family. But my husband was traveling again, this time due to his work and I found myself alone with only my friends again. But they were enough. I began going to college at the University Of South Carolina, and learned a lot about myself. I wanted to stay in that little town, and graduate. It was not to be.
Another move, this time to Baltimore, and another house to build. I felt like I was ripped from my perfect home into a life I abhor. But we have our baby - today a beautiful 14-year-old son.
In our county, we are solid middle class; one house, one child, one dog, two cars and two jobs. We participate in the local neighborhood association, but probably can't tell you the names of more than ten neighborhood families. We didn't select the area based on any demographic of age, sex, nationality, ethnic background or religion. Only for its location half way between work locations. We live, work, play, and exist in a place where we have friends but really know no one. We rush and zoom from place to place, activity to activity without pausing to relax. We build monuments to our past and expressways to get around them.
Our adult social lives seem to be adapted from our children's. We join social groups based which age-appropriate activity in which our children are participating. We gain and lose friends most compatible with our social, economical, and recreational choice based on our children's friends. Nothing new there.
So who am I? Culturally, I most certainly identify with the people from "the South". If you ask me where I'm from that's the response you'll get, "The South". Ask again and I'll tell you Kentucky. My family and my husband's family live there. I am a product of that southern-bible-belt, country virtue. I willingly embrace the friendliness, honesty and strong sense of family values that being born and brought up there ingrained within me. I'm also independent. I know what it's like to want and to earn it.
There are parts of my identity that I underplay. I speak of my attending college at GREATSCHOOL but omit that I did not graduate. I tell people that I am a "Math Assistant" rather than "I teach". While it's true that I am not certified yet to teach, it is also true that I substitute and do in fact "teach". I emphasize that I am a college student and am proud that I have returned to complete this dream.
There are many factors that contribute to my social location and identity. Sometime the total can be more that the sum of its parts. Who I was as a child was the result of my parents and grandparents influence. Who I was as a teen was the result of my social status and popularity combined with my child persona.
Who I am today is a reflection of my "then" and my "now" combined with those life experience roles such as mother, daughter, sister, employee, student, and wife.
