Poem

After Carrot's piece, which was linked from Davka's piece.

Growing up with money is like this

It's eating food from more countries before you're 5 than you'll ever expect to visit in a lifetime
It's going to the doctor for a cold you've had for three days
It's having taxable income when you're a toddler
It's your doctor knowing you by name and asking about your grandma
It's being embarrassed to ask the neighbors to pay you to babysit
It's never knowing how much your parents make
It's nonsense nicknames in multiple languages
It's field trips that lead you to fall in love with theater and music and poetry
It's writing a letter to the mayor of a city you don't live in at age 9 to ask why the projects look so scary and sad and broken when you drive past them
It's not knowing what to call the sad and scary and broken buildings
It's playing radio games to learn classical music with grandpa
It's piano lessons, long after you hate piano
It's being scared of being hit
It's never getting hit with anything more than a hand
It's believing hitting occasionally is okay
It's always having mad money, in case you need to get away
It's silence
It's being forced to go to prom because it's "important"
It's skiing down a mountain faster than light
It's making your parents pay for prom out of spite because you don't want to go
It's knowing the smells of ski lodges
It's losing a ride to the open mic when you get bad grades
It's watching your mother cry when you get beat up at school
It's constantly being measured
It's unexpected gifts
It's going to college
It's being told you're an adult before you hold a job
It's being certain you will never live like this again
It's fearing the military
It's knowing you have the money to fix your lover's broken car and not doing it
It's coming home again, for as long as you need
It's knowing you have enough to pay your friend's tuition, and not doing it
It's not needing a job while you recover from surgery
It's knowing you have enough to help fix your friend's house, and not doing it
It's embarrassing
It's knowing you have enough to pay for a transperson's hormones and not doing it
It's accusations of being ungrateful
It's letting your lover pay for lunch and trying not to cry in frustration
It's Teach for America recruiters promising you can become an investment banker later
It's knowing that youth programs are going under, you can help, and not doing it
It's not choosing
It's always choosing
It's being a lucky little girl
It's believing the New York Times
It's dialogues and workshops and books and blogs
It's realizing the anger isn't about you, and it is
It's about grace
It's language
It's teaching street youth where to dumpster vegetables
It's learning to stop and talk with street folks
It's learning to make eye contact with street folks
It's learning to walk close to street folks
It's resistance
It's fighting silence
It's "you don't know real pain"
It's "you don't know real"
It's "you don't know"
"you don't know"
"you don't know"

"you're so lucky"
and knowing
with only the smallest of doubts
that you are.