My mother was one of five children born in Houston, TX in the 1950’s. My grandfather was a truck driver and grandmother was a hairdresser that more or less concentrated on being a stay at home mother. My mother has told me numerous stories of how they pretty much lived in poverty growing up. She has always told me stories of eating the same meals several times a week just because it was the cheapest thing for a family of 7 to eat, and how her mother made most of their clothing. It was not until they moved to Oklahoma in the mid-70’s did they actually start living beyond their means. My mother tells me that it really wasn’t that bad, that until she got into high school, she really didn’t even know they were truly poor, she just figured Granny liked cooked the same foods because they were so good. I think growing up poor has made my mother stronger. I’ve never known her to let anything let get to her. She is always pushing forward. What I love about hearing my mother’s stories is that even though living in poverty sounds horrible to me, she always tells her stories with a smile on her face, almost like doesn’t remember it being a terrible time in her life, just her childhood.
A situation that may seem close to home is the children of Afghanistan. It seems as though they are now becoming the main source of money for many families. The children do things like shoe shining in the streets in order to make money to bring home for their families. Let alone express the conditions they live in such as extremely cold winters and extremely hot summers when they don’t have the proper clothing to sustain such conditions. I think having to be more than a “child” is taking a great tole on their biosocial, cognitive and psychosocial developments. They are not getting the chance and opportunity to grow and develop as if they were a middle class child growing up in America.
