While poking around in 57th St. Books the other day, I came across the book Coming Apart: The State of White America by Charles Murray. This book claims to explore the division arising between the "upper" class and the "lower" class in this country. Despite the word White in the subtitle, Murray claims that this book discusses a problem common across race and creed, a problem that depends only on socioeconomic class; essentially, the problem that the upper class and the lower class no longer live similar worlds, that for all intents and purposes they live in separate countries. This post reflects on my experience with such a divide.
Let me start by saying that, if we divide America into upper and lower classes, I definitely fall in the upper class. I live in Georgetown, Washington, DC, which is hardly a cheap neighborhood. My grandmother is paying my way through college, and my parents paid for private education for all three of their children. I enjoy eating at fine restaurants despite the high price tag. My 21st birthday party was held at BOKA, an excellent restaurant in Chicago's Old Town, and most of my immediate family flew in to attend. My father impulsively bought me an $1,800 racing bike at Bicycle Pro Shop because I'd expressed a (not entirely serious) desire for a better set of wheels (this is how I started racing bikes). Short version, I've never had to worry about money, because my family doesn't lack for it. I feel no shame for this--my grandfather and my father earned every cent that they have--but the point is, I was born and raised in the top 5% of American society.
Coming to the University of Chicago was something of a culture shock. Of course, I knew intellectually that we were better off than most of America, but I never realized how much better off until I came to UChicago. Despite the stereotype of wealthy college kids, a lot of people at this school are not wealthy. They have to watch their expenses. They're paying some of their tuition and taking loans for the rest. They have need-based financial aid. Many of the activities that I do and love, they do not participate in because they can't afford it. That was a new experience for me. My family can't afford to buy a second house or snatch up a new car without planning, but weekly pizza (not from Domino's) or eating out on the weekends has never been a problem, and hell, all five of us vacationed in Italy this spring.
As a direct result of this economic divide, many of my friends have very different interests, activities, lives than mine. With a day off, I might ride my bike, wander the city, eat at cafes, examine a bookstore--in short, participate in activities that may require money (either prepaid or not). On the other hand, many of my friends are content to read, watch TV, play video games, and so on. Their idea of a good meal is a neighborhood restaurant in Hyde Park or Chinatown. They have no objection to eating at Wok n' Roll, and McDonald's is a fact of life. A movie marathon is a graduation party, Rehoboth Beach is the yearly vacation, and an apartment party is the ultimate weekend activity. These are UChicago students who I know and respect--they are smart, hardworking people, not so unlike me (hell, some of them work a lot harder than I do). But their interests, their lives, their culture is so different from mine that sometimes it's hard to believe that we come from the same country.
At this point I may sound like a rich snob. That's not entirely inaccurate. However, as I wrote earlier, my parents and grandparents have earned every cent that they have. My mother's father was the first in his family to attend college. He died wealthy, not because he inherited, but because he earned the reputation of the best obstetrician in Lancaster county. Similarly, my father's family was solidly middle-class, just a notch or two above blue-collar. My father earned his reputation and his money by being one of the best tax attorneys in the business, and his salary continues to be tightly bound to the fortunes of his firm. My family wasn't born wealthy; we earned our money, and we understand the value of it.
Now onto another class divide: that between the 5% and the 1%. As noted, my family has not lacked for money for quite some time, but our coffers are hardly limitless. Contrast that with the top 1% of the country, the Rockefellers, the Roosevelts, the Romneys. My family may live in a swank neighborhood, but it's a neighborhood, not a gated community. We live in a beautiful, completely refurbished house, but it's a rowhouse, not a mansion. We have two Toyota Prius cars, not a fleet of Lincolns or a private jet. We can't afford to collect luxury cars or private art pieces. And we certainly don't think that paying for college by selling off stock options is "roughing it," or that the minimum comfortable income is $1,000 per person per day (I wish we made that kind of cash).
This, in a nutshell, is the class divide that Murray discusses in his book. If the division between working-class America and my family is as large as I've experienced in college, then how can someone in the top 1% have any idea how the average American lives? These people go to different school systems, participate in different activities, eat different diets, have different pastimes. Working-class problems don't exist for the upper class because the upper class can afford to buy filtered water, go to private school, live within two miles of work, eat nutritious and delicious food, pay for top-level health care. We don't live near coal plants or industrial sites, and the police keep gangs well away from our doors. It's not even that the upper class doesn't care about the problems in the country--it doesn't know about the problems in the country, because for us those problems don't exist. That is the class divide in America today. The upper class and working class may de jure live in the same city, but de facto they live in separate countries. That is, perhaps, the most important lesson that the University of Chicago has taught me. What concerns me is that I don't know how to bridge the gap, but unless it is bridged the division, and the problems that it causes, will only grow more severe.
