Equality and Me

Equality and Me (revised)

     Four years ago I wrote what became a prizewinning letter to the North County Times.  I was, and still am,  concerned about the inequities in American life.  It was considered the best of its kind for the year!  I was pleased because I was colorblind.  I choose my friends for who they are not what they look like, live like or for the dollars in their bank account. 

      The letter I wrote to the paper focused on the lack of equality that existed for LGBT folks, differences do not determine justice, equality does.  The list of inequities is long, it includes equal opportunity on every level, equal pay in every field, equal rights for all people, empathetic, understanding support and privacy for everyone.  We all need the opportunity to be the best we can be.  Success and fulfillment should be open doors for you and for me, for everyone. 

     How did this happen to me? It appears that I grew up without prejudice, almost.  It annoyed my Father that people brought their kids to our street to teach them to drive.  But he never called them nasty names.  That is how it was.  My parents’ friends came from all over.  The only time I felt any kind of discrimination or anger was when we moved into a new neighborhood, a boy my age threw stones at the new girl in school, I had to run.  My mother talked to me, explained the problem, suggested that I say hello as I passed by or simply ignore him, before long he and I were talking, became friends, though never close.

     Without intent, my mother taught me to yearn for and understand equality, especially its absence. According to pictures and anecdotes, my brother, four years older than I, was always dressed in white, sitting tall in a white baby buggy he was a prince.  Our mother let everyone know he was her prince. When I came along, ignorant of this, the buggy was painted black, my status was set, never changed.  I was never a princess, always the prince’s kid sister.  He watched over me, took me to school, often forgot to pick me up.  He was the prince.

     I resented it, but enjoyed the perks.  I got to walk to school without him; I was my Dad’s favorite.   Both of us were loved without qualification.  Inequality frequently drifted into sibling arguments that I started “you let him do it”.  My discontent flared one day to suggest to my mother that she “make me over”.  That brought some attitude adjustments I enjoyed.

     My brother made my parents very proud by staying at the top of his class consistently.  When he made Phi Beta Kappa I said, “do not expect anything like that from me.”  I did well in school however, inadvertently hit the top occasionally, broke through some barriers.  I was Valedictorian in 8th grade pleased to beat out my male rival! I decided to head for medical school.  Unfortunately I was one of few girls in chemistry 101 in college, the boys kept pushing the barriers and taking the class up another notch.  Chemistry defeated my dreams of becoming a pediatrician.

     I chose my career to fulfill my interests; I liked helping people.  My trial during the first summer's social work experience permitted me to demonstrate the reality of equality: dirty children, sick ones, mean and difficult ones, along with the bright and special kids, all roused my concern and interest.  I had a good career as a social worker, when I retired into writing, my chance to be the best I can be came full circle.  I am grateful that my brother was a prince and I was not a princess. QED.