Last night, I talked to an old friend. We talked for several hours on the phone. This friend is a blue collar worker. I am someone who aspired to be a professor. The two shall never meet?
When they do meet, it makes for interesting conversations. My friend chastised me for always getting them books and trying to them to read. They told me they will never read again. Then, they called me an elitist.
I come from a working class family. I was the first in my family to graduate college. I’ve worked hard and am proud of my accomplishments.
Maybe my family is weird, but despite our working class background, all of us read and love books. Is my family so odd that we mix upper class and lower class values? I don’t know.
All I can say is that I grew up in a house surrounded by books. My mom is constantly reading. So are my brothers. My family is very smart, but I wouldn’t call us elitist.
The friend I talked to on the phone said I was stuck in the ivory tower. It’s true—I spent many years in the ivory tower. But I’ve also been boots-on-the-ground.
The strange thing is that my friend makes a whole lot more money than I do right now. Which is more elitist—money or books? I choose money. How about you?