Thoughts on priorities...

America has one of the highest standards of living in the world. We have nice houses, pretty cars, and designer clothes. More importantly, we have good health care, and at least in theory, good education for our children. (After the past year, I'm having doubts about that last one....but that's another post for another day). But lately I have been wondering if maybe all of this luxury is actually bad for us as a society. Before you jump down my throat over this, let me explain.

As a child, I lived with my grandparents for a while. They live in this tiny house in a tiny coal mining town in Kentucky. This house was so tiny, as an adult I can walk from one end of it to the other in about twelve large steps. While I was there, most of my clothes came from Wal-Mart, or hand-me-downs from relatives. I had some toys, but not a quarter of what either of my kids has now. My building blocks were leftover pieces from my grandfather's woodworking that had been sanded down so I didn't get splinters. My grandmother grew most of our vegetables in the back yard. We didn't have cable, a dishwasher, a microwave, or even a shower - just a bath, which was never to be filled more than about three inches to save on the water bill. I know, most people reading this are thinking that this must have been awful for a small child. But here's the thing. It wasn't. It was awesome. Not because of the lifestyle itself, but because it took so little to make me happy. If Grandpa brought home a candy bar for me, it was like Christmas. If I got to take a trip over the mountain to go shopping, I felt like a world traveler. I doubt my kids would be so happy about such little things.

The house is another huge point in this argument. My house isn't huge, but it's a decent size. Way bigger than the one my grandparents live in. Everyone has space to get away from everyone and do their own thing - which seems like it would be good. But I think it occasionally causes the family to be a bit disconnected. If my husband is in the bedroom playing a video game, I'm playing on Facebook, my daughter is in her room drawing a picture, and my son is in his room blaring his Michael Jackson CD's, I feel that there is a lack of bonding. I'm not saying one should never have their own space, by any means. Just that maybe completely isolating yourself is not the way to go. I often sat in my room with the door closed at Grandma's house. But if something interesting happened, or if someone got hurt, or if dinner was ready, I was close enough to know what was going on. Sometimes it was simply an interesting conversation that I wanted to be a part of.

Grandma always wanted to be a teacher. It didn't happen, because of a number of things - not the least of which was the fact that she just thought it was important to be home for her children. And eventually, her grandchildren as well. Even on a teacher's salary, she would have made more than my grandfather, a coal miner who was ripped off at every turn by the coal companies (yet another post for another day). Many people would have spent their life lamenting the loss of an opportunity to do what they loved. Instead, she dealt with the little she had, and taught her children and grandchildren to read, write, and do math long before kindergarten. So which would you rather have, a big paycheck? Or an education? I'm not saying that everyone should stay home with their children. I don't. I do think, however, that if "stuff" was less of an issue, children would become more of a priority in our society.

On a larger scale, I think our society has problems with prioritizing. People don't have time to give a crap about their child's education, then wonder why the child is failing. We don't know how to fix things anymore, because we can call someone to do it for us. I can't sew or garden. We're horribly wasteful. We have very limited capacity for waiting for anything, which is why so many people are in trouble with credit cards and car loans. Honestly, if society collapsed tomorrow and we were forced to keep ourselves alive, my grandparents would probably survive longer than I would.

So is a bigger house, nicer clothes, and more options for entertainment really such a good thing? I remember feeling crazy in my grandparents' house as a teenager, because I knew that they had some extra money saved up, but would not spend it on central A/C or a real shower. A few years later when my aunt died, they still had that money to have her body moved to Kentucky and buried there. I don't think they would have taken a flatscreen television over that. Now that I'm a little older, I'm starting to think they may have had the right idea. Experiences are way more important than things, and I never missed out on an experience. And all the space in this house is nothing more than extra stuff that has to be cleaned.