![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
So, I've been thinking about the Occupy Wall Street movement. I've been reading up on it (We Are the 99 Percent is a good place to start) and thinking and thinking. In many ways, the Australian experience is the same as the American one. You don't mention class. Apparently, we are a 'classless society'. Words like 'egalitarian' get flung about. It's as if by avoiding discussing class, we can pretend it's not there. But it's there.
I am upper middle class. I know this because of things like the jobs my parents had, the overseas trips we took for holidays, the piano lessons and gymnastics classes and maths tutoring, the fact that when something was wrong, my mother would be making outraged telephone calls to the school, because you would never find sliced bread or supermarket own-brand products or ready-meals or junk food as snacks in our house, that my mother has never eaten at McDonald's or Pizza Hut or Hungry Jack's or KFC in her life, because those things were DISGUSTING, because we went to art school and music school in the summer holidays, because we were told not to speak 'with a rising inflection', to hold our pencils correctly 'because otherwise people will think you have been poorly-educated and you won't get a job'. And because we noticed when these things weren't present in our friend's houses or upbringings, and we knew that you weren't meant to mention it. You averted your eyes.
I also know that my mother was the first person in her family to go to university, that her parents clawed their way out of the working class with their fingernails, and that their status was precarious, that my mother was embarrassed when people visited her house because it had bare floorboards instead of carpet, and it was her awareness of things like this, little markers of difference, that was responsible for her losing her faith at the age of sixteen. I'm certain we're not the one percent, but I'm not sure if we are the 99 percent.
I say all this as a preamble to the real purpose of this post, which is to link to this utterly beautiful piece of writing by the indescribably wonderful Sady Doyle of Tiger Beatdown. She writes of her experiences of class and privilege in the United States, her unease with the '99 percent' label, and comes to this conclusion:
The more I write, the more I know this: “Objectivity” is nowhere to be found on this Earth. Everything you are, as a writer or an activist — every place you come from, everything you’ve learned — is called upon, every time you set forth to speak or to change the world. The less we know what we carry, the more it undermines everything we do. And to write from one’s own experience, to construct a biography, is to understand where one connects with the world. This is specifically a biography of class. But I see gender, in this history, very clearly; I see heterosexuality, and I see race, and I see disability; I see location in time and space, and don’t believe any of these things are fundamentally separate from the ways money and culture (and culture is money, of course, always was; “taste” has never been an absolute good, never divorced from the reality of production and consumers) construct our lives in the world.
If you read one thing about Occupy Wall Street, read this.
I am upper middle class. I know this because of things like the jobs my parents had, the overseas trips we took for holidays, the piano lessons and gymnastics classes and maths tutoring, the fact that when something was wrong, my mother would be making outraged telephone calls to the school, because you would never find sliced bread or supermarket own-brand products or ready-meals or junk food as snacks in our house, that my mother has never eaten at McDonald's or Pizza Hut or Hungry Jack's or KFC in her life, because those things were DISGUSTING, because we went to art school and music school in the summer holidays, because we were told not to speak 'with a rising inflection', to hold our pencils correctly 'because otherwise people will think you have been poorly-educated and you won't get a job'. And because we noticed when these things weren't present in our friend's houses or upbringings, and we knew that you weren't meant to mention it. You averted your eyes.
I also know that my mother was the first person in her family to go to university, that her parents clawed their way out of the working class with their fingernails, and that their status was precarious, that my mother was embarrassed when people visited her house because it had bare floorboards instead of carpet, and it was her awareness of things like this, little markers of difference, that was responsible for her losing her faith at the age of sixteen. I'm certain we're not the one percent, but I'm not sure if we are the 99 percent.
I say all this as a preamble to the real purpose of this post, which is to link to this utterly beautiful piece of writing by the indescribably wonderful Sady Doyle of Tiger Beatdown. She writes of her experiences of class and privilege in the United States, her unease with the '99 percent' label, and comes to this conclusion:
The more I write, the more I know this: “Objectivity” is nowhere to be found on this Earth. Everything you are, as a writer or an activist — every place you come from, everything you’ve learned — is called upon, every time you set forth to speak or to change the world. The less we know what we carry, the more it undermines everything we do. And to write from one’s own experience, to construct a biography, is to understand where one connects with the world. This is specifically a biography of class. But I see gender, in this history, very clearly; I see heterosexuality, and I see race, and I see disability; I see location in time and space, and don’t believe any of these things are fundamentally separate from the ways money and culture (and culture is money, of course, always was; “taste” has never been an absolute good, never divorced from the reality of production and consumers) construct our lives in the world.
If you read one thing about Occupy Wall Street, read this.
Yeah
Date: 2011-10-10 02:03 am (UTC)"I'm certain we're not the one percent, but I'm not sure if we are the 99 percent."
Another important point of nuance (that is getting a little attention in Occupy Wall St) is that we - which is to say, most or all of usydgroup, for example - are generally not going to be in the 1% for the Western Nations we live in.
But most of us would be in or at least pretty close to the global 1%.
http://www.globalrichlist.com/
A pretty crude approximation, but good enough to make the relevant point.
- Jordan
Re: Yeah
Date: 2011-10-10 08:07 am (UTC)But I agree with you completely.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-10 06:10 am (UTC)That said, as you discussed in a recent post, we both grew up in Canberra, and so maybe my perceptions are a little skewed?
no subject
Date: 2011-10-10 08:06 am (UTC)Australia not being in a recession also skews your perceptions, because I can't think of anyone in our circle of friends who had any difficulties getting a job, or indeed following the expected path of doing well at school, going to university and getting a good job almost straight out of uni. The impression that I get with regard to the US is that this is not the case.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-10 11:17 am (UTC)This is very true. I remember your house very well - I think we had a similar upbringing (although perhaps more McDonalds - although I think we only ever had it maybe 5 or 6 times when I was growing up, it happened very rarely. I think Canberra is a very "classless" place - in Sydney the differences are a lot more marked - at least that is what I am finding living here as an adult.
I saw your last post about your sad news - if there is anything I can do to help our your Mum, I am living very nearby now, in Victoria Street so I am within walking distance if she needs anything.
Kathy xx
no subject
Date: 2011-10-11 11:16 am (UTC)Canberra is weird, in that I think it pretends it's classless, but I know quite a few people who didn't fit into the typical Canberran middle-class mould.
Thanks for your kind thoughts. It might be best to get in touch with Mum directly. She's on Facebook and you can send her a message. We've had some encouraging news today and will know by Thursday evening what exactly will happen with my grandmother. I'll pass on your best wishes to her in any case.