A BOY LIKE THAT
When I was a young teen in St. Charles, Illinois, there were things that went on that were confusing to me: The adults around me, especially my mother, would talk about the way the world went in St. Charles, and how people there were divided into groups, that I later learned were actually 'classes' , that were all about how much money you had. what kind of car you drove. what size house you had. which neighborhood the house was in. whether you belonged to the country club or not. what religion you were. what color you were. what nationality you were. what clothing you wore - not just style, but quality, too. whether you dyed your hair or not. who you were related to. who was an alcoholic in your family. who took drugs. how much stuff you owned. what your job was, or your parent's job(s). what your politics were. whether you were the boss or a worker at your job. whether you inherited any money or not. how long your family had been in St. Charles. where you traveled every year. if you traveled somewhere at all. where did you go on vacations. did you fight with your spouse, or did your parents fight.could the neighbors hear. how many affairs were going on. was any abuse reported in your family. was anyone divorced in the family. had someone been an adulterer. did someone break up the family. did any one run away. was any one in prison. why. was anyone just plain 'wild'. were you first, second, or third or more generation American. were you educated. where did you go to school. how far did you get. where did you send your kids to school who went to college. how far did they get. how well did you keep your lawn. how well did you keep your garden. did you keep your property clean and in good repair. what sports were you good at. what sports did you watch. at a bar. or, at home. with who. did you contribute to school events. community events. did you vote. did you hold public office. did you do public-display-of-affection with your wife. with your girl/boy friend. what illnesses did the family have. which doctor did you see. which dentist. who had cancer in your family. who died. where were they buried. did you have one plot, or two. did you have a family plot. did a lot of people come to your funeral. where you in the armed services. what was your rank. which service. for how many years. in how many deployments. how much 'action' did you see. did you have any disabilities. where. why. how did you cope. did you own a business in town. which businesses did you patronize. did you save in the local bank. did you invest. how did you do in your stocks. in your bonds. did you own. did you rent. did you own any property in town. were you considered rich. were you thought to be middle class. were you considered to be poor. were you from the 'wrong side of the tracks'. what clubs did you belong to. what societies. what organizations. did you participate in them. were you an officer in them. what books did you read. did you use the public library. what movies did you see. what television shows did you watch. what shows did you 'let' your kids watch. did you get them to school on time. did you attend your church regularly what satus did your church have in town. where you on time to church, to work. to social events. did you have lots of friends. were you isolated...on, and on and on...and, I bet this is just a partial list!....
The list I just wrote sounds insane, I know. I also know that it seemed to me, as an older child, that every one in town, in a true 'grapevine' of Information with a capital 'I', knew all these things about everyone they wished to discuss. And, they discussed these things with pleasure and a sense of belonging and pride in their own biases or prejudices, with very little sense of shame. Whether all this information caused damage or not was never discussed, in my presence at least... I had the good fortune, although it didn't seem so at the time, of having a father who Did Not agree with my mother that all this gossip was benign. He said it was usually hurtful ( a southern word he softly drawled often, in rebuke to my mother). He said it showed lack of respect. He said there were better things to do. I agreed with him. This brought the usual flounce to my mother's stance, with her favorite insult towards me. "You are just like your father." My father said to call all women 'Mamn' and all grown men, 'Sir'. He thought every body deserved respect, most of the time. I never once in my life heard him 'gossip' about anybody.
I know I must have paid attention to all the gossip. My sisters and I were like sponges to my mother's every piece of advice and admonition. We knew she thought she had our best interests at heart, and she worked tirelessly to be sure we had all the right stuff and the right education, and the right Catholic upbringing, and the right connections and so on. It was difficult to fault her, and certainly difficult to contradict her. Only, my father's words still went through my head now and then. He seemed to be a voice from a different planet, where not everything my mother said was true, or reasonable, or even kind. Once, when I was questioning my mother's judgement over something, he actually just sighed and said directly to me, "You know, your mother is a little goofy." I was shocked, all the more because I suddenly realized that this remark was starkly true. We sisters were all carefully monitored every minute of our lives by her, but she, in fact, didn't always make sense. She was very bright, but she was very isolated from other folks, since few of them were considered of the 'class' of people she wanted to associate with...well, her life was more complicated than that, but that was one aspect of it, and it tainted her kid's views of themselves and others in our little world of St. Charles, Illinois.
Enter the kids from the 'other side of the tracks'. Vera M and Pat O were the first girls I knew who were described, by my mom, as being "poor white trash." I was shocked by this observation. First of all, these were two girls I really admired quite a bit! I thought they were Wonderful! Since I was considered by them to be a 'goody-goody' on account of my being the President of Our Lady's Sodality" and all in eighth grade, I was on their not-friend list, I was certain. They did the following very, very admirable things: ran around with fast boys. danced better than everybody anywhere. did not worry about good grades. had made-out and maybe even had sex already. knew and could sing all the most popular music. got to go to the movies alone at night. drove around with older guys. in wonderful old beat-up cars. went along on races with those cars. got to be out late without any problem. did not have to go to the local all-girls Catholic school for high school - even though they were Catholic. did not have to just hang out with Catholic guys only. smoked cigs without anyone finding out. knew all the new slang and spoke it as a first language instead of as a second language. wore really cool clothes and shoes. that were 'in' without being expensive. were copied for everything they did or said without question. dyed their hair whenever they felt like it. had pierced ears and wore earrings in them. in Vera's case, had foreign parents (nationality - not clear). were friends with the only two black kids I knew of in town. and, with virtually all of the Hispanics... I adored them from afar. I knew I was not the kind of kid they would ever have for a friend. I was too straight. But, god, I certainly thought their lives were much, much more interesting than mine. To this day, I wish I knew what happened to them...but we spiraled out of our little circles of social life in St. Charles, Illinois into the greater world, and I never heard from them or about them, ever again....they were Different than I, that's for sure. There is no way my mom would have allowed Contact with them. It just didn't happen in our narrow little Circle of Life....
Which brings me to boyfriends...Eighth grade: none. insulted by several boys. defended by one splendid one. Ninth grade: one. went to a couple of dances. Catholic dudes. not very interesting people, but OK for beginners...Tenth Grade: two boyfriends. both from the Catholic Military Academy. One very funny and smart, and the other one very serious and very smart. I liked them both a lot. Eleventh Grade: same dudes, but less interesting...Senior year: the Jackpot! This guy was a big deal in the local (Public! Not Catholic!) high school in the music scene! The Band! The Chorus! The Lead in Musicals! He was popular! Smart! Very funny! Good-looking! And, he was singing a lead in our very own Catholic Girl's School Musical, in an Operetta in which I also had a small starring role! But, most important of all: he clearly really liked me! He liked me a lot! Stars were dancing! I was dancing around in joy! So, of course, this is where the 'class' stuff comes in...
My mother did 'not approve' of this guy. he was Not Catholic. he was in Public School. he was Not An Academic. he was probably 'fast'. his mom, (to my mom's knowledge...how did she learn these things!) was divorced. they were poor. his home was in one of the 'poorer' parts of town. there were possibly two dads involved. there was no dad in sight... I do not think my boyfriend knew how much I defended him, in my sense of fair play and in my fervor for a First Love! I had no Weapons of Wisdom, and no Experience to do such a battle. My mother was relentless about these criticisms. My boyfriend was just 'not right' for me. If I kept going out with him, I was going to lose my Virginity. This was her consummate Weapon. No Catholic Girl could lose her Virginity except in her marriage bed. It was a mortal sin. and, of course, somehow, Everybody would know! I might even get Pregnant! Then I would have to get married to him! This would be a disaster for my college plans! How Could I 'Go' With A Boy Like That!....
Looking back at it, I don't know what she was thinking! Fighting with an older teenager, especially, about what boyfriend or girlfriend they have is Known to be a Big Mistake. Not always, but usually, that kind of Attack by a parent just pushes the two young lovers together for sure! It certainly pushed me straight into young Mr. First Love's happy and waiting arms! All kinds of windows and doors were opening up to me in that lovely and loving relationship, and I was Not Going to Give Up Anything! I was especially Very turned-off by the Gossip Attack, even more than by the Religion Attack. And the Virginity Attack was losing ground fast. At eighteen, a young lady's Hormones are the Queen of Everything! I had no experience to win the War, but I could hold my own...especially if I could get Out of the War....
I was totally and globally Done with the mean Gossip Battle. I felt that I could not tolerate One More Attack on Any one's 'class'. social scene. family. religion. mother. dad. morals.school. past. present. future! I didn't want One More Hurtful Thing said, about Anybody! much less the young, kind guy I loved! I was determined to get away from what I thought of as Small Town Narrow Ways, embodied by my own mother. I was too young to know how to hold my own in a small town social milieu. More importantly, I was too inexperienced to know that there was no place in the world where 'hurtful gossip' and 'narrow ways' did not prevail, wherever and whenever two or more are gathered in a desire to tell-all about each other! I associated St Charles and mother and small towns with all that was narrow and prejudiced about a world I wanted to open to, to live fully in. I was, you see, only a child, after all. an older child, but a child, all the same...
I left St. Charles. I went to a Nursing School that would only last three years, to which I had a big scholarship, so that I could get a job right away and be independent. It would have taken me five or six years to get through Northwestern, where my scholarship for creative writing was too small. My parents didn't have enough to send two of us to college at once, and my next sister was coming up to college age fast. I thought I would be a good example to my young sisters. I would show them how to get out and take care of themselves, if they needed to. I would show them how to escape Small Town America and our narrow-minded mother. It never occurred to me that they might see their whole childhood differently than I did...I just kept coming home every three weeks or so to check on them and teach them piano lessons. I missed them so. I got paid for the piano lessons, too....
I left my First Love. I was too young, once again, to know what kind of relationship I wanted at that time in life. I thought I was headed to the altar with him for sure. Every girl who didn't leave our town did that, after all. They married the local guys and settled down. I thought Settling Down wasn't for me. There is always Hindsight later on in life, but it isn't of much help. The decisions you make later in life, after all those trips up and down the Milky Way, are so different than the ones you made when you were so young, and so determined, and, so sure that you just had forever to Live Happily Ever After. What Regrets suffice for the years that you lived less than a Bringer-To-Be-Of-Your-Own-Certainties...What exactly would you trade for who you were, and what you've done?...I knew I would think of him though. all the rest of my life...just a child...and so, He is another Story still..and, has become Another Story, entirely - especially as he is back in my life now, after forty-five years...looks like we have our Wonderful Love to live out for whatever 'forever' we have left...an Unusual Blessing in this life....
Still, opening my Self to the Wide and Open World was surely not a mistake! That part was True to Who I Was and Who I Am. The People of all Races! Creeds! Beliefs! Cultures! Classes! Persuasions of All Kinds! I would not trade their Lives connected to mine, for that Decision Past, for anything! My own three Children are Better Folk for all they have experienced being around a World filled with so many Folk who do not look and act and live and love exactly like they do. Would they have learned to live more openly, more really, in a Small Town World? I will never know...
But I do know that they and I, my dear Pack, are Not Gossips. We see all the ways there are to be, protect ourselves around many, but not out of judgment or prejudice, just out of common sense. Like their Grandpa, my Father, we respect Folks for who they are, not for a List of Expectations that no one could possibly meet! My Father certainly set the Road for us there...and...even he ran away. He joined up with another lady, in another small town, to be sure. but he chose well. I have never heard her gossip, ever. she sees what she sees with compassion. he married a Blessing the second time around...
O Mom, I do not fault you so much anymore. You were who you were, all afraid of real contacts and of difference, even while you presented yourself as idealistic and liberal. Your labels for yourself were badges over tears in you own soul...I have not done many of the things you did. I think I am the better for it. but. It's no big deal...I will not judge you either, then. It was Truly Reasonable to leave you when I was young. You and Dad were both making such a Mess of your Lives in those years! Life with you two was truly Terrible at times - even, Wonderful, many times...But, that was Long, Long Ago... You rest in peace, finally...and I will go forward in peace...
on and on and on,
into this great, big World we all share, somehow,
with all of our Differences and Loves and Lives...
I will Enter Into Life more and more and more...all of my days...
as openly and honestly as I can....
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