Life was good in 1978 and this was before some hippy in California coined that phrase and put it on a hat. We didn’t need to wear a hat that said “life is good” because we knew it was fucking good. But something changed in America between 1978 and 2019 and what we discovered is that the more we gave our children the more rotten they would become. Read the true story by Teresa McIntosh-Hall about growing up rich in a poor mother’s lap.
In 1978 I had a banana seat bicycle with an oversized plastic basket on the handlebars, a Kool Aid stand in my front yard, bright yellow big bird socks that I pulled up to my knees, a stylish mullet haircut and a best friend living next door. I thought I was living well. Turns out I really wasn’t. At least not by today’s standards.
If a social worker walked into our 700 square foot home in 1978 she might privately note the following;
Three children living in borderline poverty, two with hearing impairment and the oldest with obesity. Parents have no college education or trade. Parents unable to afford hearing aids for the children and have privately reached out to United Way. Oldest child is academically gifted, middle child is extremely shy and the youngest child disobeys with great frequency. Father served in the military as a special forces soldier. Parents use belt and willow switches to discipline the children. Parents cannot afford a washer and dryer, cable TV or air conditioning but the home is clean and the children appear well adjusted, loved and cared for.
We had no one to compare ourselves to back then. No social media to tell us that we were poor, with freckles, imperfections and quirky southern accents living in Nowhere, Ohio. Life was good and this was before some hippy in California coined that phrase and put it on a hat. We didn’t need to wear a hat that said “life is good” because we knew it was fucking good. But something changed in America between 1978 and 2019 and what we discovered is that the more we gave our children the more rotten they would become. It’s a paradox really because it would seem the more we give, the more we get in return. A simple case of parenting economics… invest in your child and you reap what you sow. But do we?
More toys, more sports, more lessons, more activities, more channels, more parties with ponies and clowns and outrageously over the top kindergarten graduation ceremonies that simply boggle the mind. We love em’ so much that we give and give and give because we want our children to have what we did not. Yet instead of having children who know that life is “fucking good” we have children puckering their lips and snapping a picture into a bathroom mirror that screams sadness and desperation.
Gone are mullet haircuts and in are $500.00 hair extensions. Gone are big bird socks and in are five-year-old girls with $60.00 pedicures. Gone are Kool Aid stands to earn money and in are $50.00 a week allowances for doing absolutely, fucking nothing. How did we allow this to happen to America’s children? Most haven’t peddled a bicycle in over a month and many have tennis elbow but it isn’t from tennis – it’s from holding a gaming console five hours a day.
In 1978 my mother pulled me onto her lap and told me one profound truth that I still remember; “many rich children sit in a poor mother’s lap.”
“Uh?” I asked. She repeated it… “MANY RICH CHILDREN SIT IN A POOR MOTHERS LAP.”
“I don’t understand what you mean Mom.”
“Oh, but you will dear…you will. Go play.”
@copyright By Teresa McIntosh-Hall
Teresa McIntosh-Hall is a writer, blogger, social worker and political activist who grew up happy in a poor mother’s lap.
RESOURCES FOR CHILDREN IN POVERTY:
Who was the obese kid in this story?
Good one brother:)
Where’s the laughing emoji for your brother’s comment? 😂😂😂
My mother was a nanny to rich children. She held many of them on her lap. They loved her dearly because she gave them the love that they didn’t get from their parents.
Those kids were lucky. Thanks for your comment.