Living in Northbrook, I’ve always felt as though I am surrounded by upper-middle class families who seem to live the most luxurious lifestyles. My parents have always taught me to be conservative with money, as they explained to me that my friends may have more freedom with their expenses. As I’ve grown to become a responsible young adult, I’ve learned that not being able to afford all of the bells and whistles of life does not make my family any less worthy. My perspective on my socioeconomic status as well as my race transformed drastically as I experienced contrasting cultures.
This context illusion shows two central circles with the exact same dimensions surrounded by either large dots or small dots. The context causes us to perceive the original circle as a different size, as the circle on the right appears to be larger than the circle on the left. This symbolizes how I view my socioeconomic status in the context of Northbrook in comparison to the context of the world. Source: The Conversation
The first memory I have of truly realizing my identity in relation to the country instead of in relation to my town is when I was in middle school and on my yearly trip to New Orleans to visit my grandparents. Although I had been traveling to the famous city for my entire life, visiting when I was more mature and aware of my surroundings suddenly made the city feel more real, versus just a figment of my imagination.
I observed the differences between Northbrook and New Orleans: the homeless population, the race diversity, the socioeconomic status of those in my grandparents’ neighborhood, and the level of safety I experienced. As I casually walked around the city, I noticed myself subconsciously straying further away from homeless people as well as African Americans because of the news stories my grandparents flooded my mind with. Just a week before my trip, my Grandma explained to my parents and I that there had been an increase in shootings within the city as well as in the suburbs: at gas stations, at supermarkets, and even at a private gym. The criminals were most often homeless and/or African American, so my young mind generalized all lower class African American Louisianians to be dangerous. As we would drive from the train station to my grandparents’ home, I saw much of the homeless population reside in tents under the freeway. I especially noticed how difficult it was for the city to recover after Hurricane Katrina in 2005, as the impact is still present today. Water damage remains on almost all of the residential homes, and there’s little to no funding to rebuild broken community centers. The negative effect on the financial stability and the health of so many residents is still prevalent today. People, including my previous immature self, who form judgments about low-class Louisianians hardly take into account the fact that these humans’ entire lives were sweeped out from underneath them.
When I returned home, I noticed a drastic difference in my attitude toward Northbrook: it went from believing nearly everyone in the world lived with the same conditions I do to acknowledging the privileges I do have. Today, I am far more conscious of the value of a dollar, how important experiencing diversity is in learning to treat each human equally, and how it is my duty to learn about life beyond the Northbrook bubble. As Wheatley writes, “We do need to acknowledge that their [someone different from us] way of interpreting the world might be essential to our survival” (2). Because I live in an affluent area where I am not exposed to much diversity, I have had the disadvantage of oblivion and naiveté. I am well aware of the amount of growing I have to do as I venture to college and beyond, because I have only encountered a fraction of the experiences I will face.
I do not have to think about certain everyday conveniences, like people straying away from me in public settings because of my skin color. However, I do have to think about not taking the “easy way out”; I must challenge myself to be curious, and to not just accept that there are people being treated as less than me simply because they are considered a set of circumstances.
Challenge accepted.
The dance featured below choreographed by Camille A. Brown demonstrates a celebration of resilience post Hurricane Katrina for African Americans in New Orleans. It includes energetic and lively movements stemming from the traditional Louisianian culture. Brown reflects on her piece, stating “It honors our ability to rise and keep rising”.
Keeping Up With Caroline 