What happened to the middle class path to success?

Back in the old days, the typical American Dream was made up of hard work, time, and determination, which equaled rewards: a car, a house, a family. What made all those rewards possible, or the key to the equation, was hard work. Hard work meant something; it had value; one reaped the benefit of the rewards after the hard work was done.

I know that even back in the day there were still people who never owned a car, maybe didn't have a house, and possibly didn't even create a own family with the person of their dreams. But, sadly I've begun to realize that in today's times, the American dream is more dreamy than it is realistic. It seems to be ten times, if not twenty times less likely now than it was before.


I look at my generation and I worry. I see two sets of people. One set are those whose family prospered greatly, their college is paid for, they drive a nice car, and maybe even have their own apartment. The second set are people who can't even afford an education, who take the bus everywhere, and who sure as hell can't afford their own place EVEN if they had a roommate.

The more I look around, the less I see people that fit in between. The in-between represents those who lived out the American Dream, the comfortable zone, the I'm-not-rich-but-stable zone.

Now, I'm not knocking those who are better off. If your family is full of hardworkers, I respect that, and you should realize that you are lucky. I just want to speak from where I stand: the disappearing middle class. My father has been working at Moses Cone Hospital for over twenty-five years as a biomedical engineer and is also a veteran of the Air Force. He works long hours and is often on-call. Just tonight he got called into work to fix a machine. At one in the morning.

My mother worked several decent jobs until she became disabled. We live in a three bedroom/two bathroom doublewide (which is similar to two trailers smashed together, for those who aren't familiar) in a neighborhood with other double-wides and trailers. I also have two older siblings. When my sister wanted to go to college, the school decided that my father made "too much" money for her to qaulify for any Pell grants. She barely had any scholarships, she had good grades, participated in extracurricular activities, and she was pretty unique. Despite all of that, she could not afford to go to college, so instead, she went into the Marines.

My other sister had better grades, but also did not qualify for grants. She had a few scholarships, as well as financial aid, which gave her enough money to attend Greensboro College for two years, and then transfer to UNCG for her third year. After her first semester at UNCG, her financial aid ran out. She was not able to finish her third year of college.

Then there is me. I was different from my sisters; I also had decent grades and I did some activities, but I never really wanted to go to a regular college. I was more of a technical college student. I had my heart set on Beauty College. I dreamed big, more specifically, I dreamed of Paul Mitchell or Aveda. Both of the schools are an hour and a half away from my city, with a $16,000-$20,000 tuition. My dreams were crushed almost automatically.

My senior year of high school was spent working at a retail store called Kiss, and a few months after working long and hard hours, I was promoted to Assistant Mananger at $7.75 per hour. I guess this was a big deal to me when I was 17.

After sending both of my sisters to school, my parents could not help me pay my way through beauty school, let alone anything else. By the time I had turned 18, I had bought my own car, paid for my own phone line, bought all my food as well as cared for my cats, and paid for gas and all other things I needed or wanted. I still have not been able to pay for schooling.

I look around, sometimes, and I feel jealous. I've worked my butt off to get my dingy 1987 Toyota Camry that breaks down more often than I do, while others partied their ass' off, never worked, and were given the keys to a BMW or Lexus as soon as they turned sixteen. People tell me: be proud, you earned this, there is no better feeling than having worked for what you have. True, I say, but what am I supposed to feel when I work hard and don't even get something half as nice as someone who didn't had to work for what they got?

Then, I start thinking about those who are worse off than me. If I'm feeling like I'll never get to the point in my life where I am rewarded, I can't even imagine what they are feeling.

I think of people who have struggled everyday for basic needs and how far off, how impossible, the American Dream may seem to them. If it seems far off to me, the ability to have my own place, the ability to live in comfort; it must be too far past the horizon for those who are worse off than myself.

I would hate to have worked my whole life, but still be constantly struggling, with no resting period, no sigh of relief, and constant worrying when I miss a day at work.

The richer become richer. The poorer become poorer.

And soon, there will be no middle class, there will be no comfort, no in-between, no basics, no American Dream.

But, you can always have faith and hope.

Maybe I'm negative, maybe I'm naive. Or, maybe I look at my father and see a hard working man who still struggles to provide for his family and who is saddened by the fact that he cannot help his daughter with college, despite all those long hours at work, all the overtime, and all the loyalty he has given to his country and his job.

I hope that my generation will get over this rut, that the middle class will repopulate, and that my kids can look at the future with confidence, not worry as I do.

Dene Logan