My oldest and I took a detour the other night because the holiday lights on the street were begging for people to come and see them. From the main road, the entire city street appeared to be twinkling. As we were driving, we realized that we were in a neighborhood that was a lot different than anything we’ve ever lived in. Now I don’t know what the true definition of a mansion is, but I would liken most of these houses to mansions. First of all, they were huge. I mean, they were like “Fit our whole house in the living room” huge. There were no split-level ranch-style homes here.
As we drove around, we didn’t say much because we were in awe of everything around us. I found myself having thoughts about who hung those exquisite lights and where did they ever find a door decoration that big? I wondered why there were spotlights on small trees. I wanted to know how much and whom they paid to decorate the insides of their homes because I was convinced that someone was paid to decorate the outside. Everything was simply too perfect.
When we approached one house, the chick muttered, “ohmygawd.” I asked what she was looking at, expecting to hear that it was her dream house or that was where she was going to live in 5 years, but, instead, she said, “I would be embarrassed.” That was not what I had expected. She went on to ask, “How do you have friends over to a house like that? I’d be so embarrassed, mom. You can’t even pretend to not be rich in a house like that and my friends would be so uncomfortable.” Again, not what I expected to hear.
I had my own thoughts about it. I mean, I found most of the houses, though huge, to not look lived in. There weren’t cars or basketball hoops in the driveways. There wasn’t one playhouse or a plastic Tykes car to be seen. Instead, we were surrounded by perfectly manicured lawns with a few shrubs and trees bathing in spotlights. No two homes looked alike either, although a few had the same tree in the same light.
She asked if I have ever wanted to live in a house like that and I replied no, but maybe that’s because I was an adult when I realized that there were actually communities of houses like that. I cannot remember one neighborhood like that growing up. I mean, sure, we had middle-class neighborhoods, but I have no memories of what I would call mansions. Now, I can’t ever imagine myself living in a house like that but my child version would have mentally decorated every room.
Aside from the infatuation itself, there wasn’t much appealing to me, nothing that I envied. It was eerily quiet, first of all. No one or nothing was moving. The insides of the houses were lit up, which really messed with my “turn out the light when you’re done” style of life. And, despite the fact that the windows were designed to be uncovered and to expose the items inside the house (why do non-poor folks do that, by the way? I mean, why show the outside public enough to get us curious about what else you own? To me, that’s asking for trouble.), I couldn’t picture myself on the couch watching tv.
And before some of you start verbally attacking me for speaking ill, I’m not saying people shouldn’t live in such homes. I mean, it’s your life and you should be happy in it. I don’t believe in wishing someone else’s success and desires away; I am merely saying that it is so beyond my comprehension that I have no interest. In fact, assuming those homes were worth a million dollars had me calculating in my head whether I’ll even earn a million dollars before I die. Hell, I can’t even envision a million dollars.
I did applaud myself for coming as far as I have because I wasn’t driving a vehicle that had people thinking I was casing the joint. And I do occasionally use more formal language, so I could have talked my way out of questioning. Even with those things in my favor, I couldn’t get out of there and back to our normal route quickly enough. I simply knew my happy place wasn’t there.
The one thing I realized is that poverty is as foreign and abstract of a concept to so many as wealth is to me. But maybe if we keep shining a light on it, as if it’s a tree worthy of a light shining on it, people will at least be willing to try to understand and acknowledge it exists …
Onward,
Amy Jo
