about assumptions

I'm starting this blog to bring a voice to the weirdness that is being a  privileged white girl (woman) raising a mixed race kid in a moderately troubled traditionally african american neighborhood in one of the chocolate cities of the USA, Oakland, right by a boho white folks' city...which is, to be fair, in fact increasingly latino and otherwise mixed because well hello it's california in 2010.

So it's not surprising when I walk into the County Services building for a "Parenting Orientation" (um, 19 months late?) and I'm the only white person in the room.

It's also not surprising when, as an only child with a deep, deep loneliness, I look for ways to separate myself from the other people in the room. This is my shit, this is not about culture or race or anything. This just needs therapy.

BUT there seem to be class differences. certainly. maybe? what class am i, really? i identify upper middle white suburban protestant...but are those my people? No. i'm on the verge of being unemployed, have just paid off about $25K in irresponsible dinners out, cute boots and art shows I never could afford, and am investigating food stamps. Oh, and i'm a single mom who shops at Groce Out.

So maybe there aren't class differences after all. maybe i just think I'm supposed to be UMC, and so i feel double guilt- one for thinking I'm better than these working class-ers, and one because I'm not actually affluent like I think I'm supposed to be.

Anyway. Back to Room 260. The woman in the patent leather 3" heels, cheap suit, too much cleavage and huge pearl jewelry is a volunteer. ?? She starts telling 13 strangers about "how you were raised" and "what your kids are like" and i became unhinged. in my WASP way, of course- by slumping in my chair and thinking about the thumbprint peach I was going to eat as soon as this session was over. and trying to meditate. oh California, I also love you.

In her too-familiar way, she told us about what a great parent she was. But it took me a minute to understand where she was going when she started talking about "Tiger"....thankfully, by the time she got to "Janet" and "OJ", I had picked up the tune. But there's no way you can walk in off the street and understand a thing about our 13 situations. except that we're all freaked out and we don't know the way. So tell us creative ways to solve our problems? (yes, please!?) Nope, she told us about her Family Bill of Rights. Tell the single people, fighting with people outside the room somewhere, about your ideal 2 parent, 2 child family with resources for a $300 baseball bat and $150/hr batting lessons. Top it off, for the one in the corner who's fighting to keep her last name and her son's the same with "My kids know what it means to be a Jackson...", and finish with the love and respect your kids have for you and your husband? Try again, Oakland.