On the dichotomy of life.
It was an unseasonably warm day last spring- one of the first weeks of the baseball season, and some friends and I went to a Cubs game.
Tickets were cheap since no one had been expecting a warm day, and we sat on the bleachers with beers and hotdogs. The Cubbies won- the first win I’d gotten to watch since moving to Chicago, and we all sang “Go Cubs gooooo, go Cubs gooooo, hey Chicago whaddya say, the Cubs are gonna win today.”
It felt like one of those magical spring nights with friends, the promise of summer around the corner, and the luck that a weeknight could be that easy and fun.
Once the game was over, we filed out of the bleachers and followed the flow of the crowd towards the exit. Looking down at the street from the second story of the stadium, I saw neat rows of people lined up outside on the sidewalk with trash bags and trash pickers. I grabbed my partner’s arm- “Look baby,” I gestured towards the people waiting to clean the stadium.
They were all Hispanic, most of them señoras, and I was suddenly overcome with emotion. I was reminded of the overwhelming guilt that I often feel, and the sense that I’m living a borrowed life- a life that I somehow get to enjoy while my own people are often not so lucky.
This speaks to something that I think many of us have experienced. While many of our parents wanted us to “salir adelante”, when you grow up low income and/or first-gen, no one prepares you for how to guiltlessly enjoy that more comfortable life later on. There is an assumption that you’ll just be able to seamlessly transition into a life of privilege.
While I have the privilege of being able to buy tickets to a cubs game on a whim, I have not yet found a way to bask in the luxury of taking things for granted. I am always aware of my privilege and in this case, I can’t just go to a Cubs game without thinking about the implications of me being on the inside, while people that could be my Tias are on the outside.
This is not a complaint! It makes for a life filled with gratitude, and a little awe for the life that I am fortunate enough to live. I am always aware of what I have and the fear that it could be taken away leads to a sense of urgency- of needing to enjoy, soak up, and be grateful for every moment.
For me personally, there is more at play, like weird family dynamics. That also contributes to this feeling of guilt, and we’ll get into that in another post. But for today, I want to acknowledge that it’s not always as simple as enjoying the life that you worked hard for, or that your parents hoped you would have when they came to this country.
It is always more complicated and it is not often talked about. More importantly, it makes for a complex understanding of how we relate to our own people who think we’ve “made it”, and how we move within communities that can take everything for granted.
I’ve wanted to begin a blog now for some time, talking about my life and providing resources for people who may be living through similar, shared experiences.
Part of my hesitation, I think, comes from the difficulty of articulating a life that has been both incredibly privileged and incredibly hard.
How can you write about that kind of dichotomy with sincerity? How can you be truthful about your privilege, while still honoring the parts of your life that have been difficult, particularly when that hardship has been tied to your identity for so long?
I actually have no idea, but I often feel that it is better to stumble forward than stay stagnant and wish you had tried.
In that spirit, I’m going to give it a shot. I’d love it if you joined me for the ride.
Here’s to figuring it out,
Ariana
