Confessions Of A Sniveling Wimp

I first began to suspect that I didn't have The Right Stuff that fateful summer I spent at Congaree Girl Scout Camp.

Our happy little troop of campers went for a hike and the counselors got us lost.

Lost! Our bleached bones would turn up years later, picked clean by the predators that lurked in the howling wilderness.

"We're ALL GOING TO DIE!" I bawled pitifully. "IF NOT THAT, WE'RE MISSING LUNCH! I'M STARVING!!! WAAAAHHHH!!!"

"Don't cry, Lorrie," soothed another camper, Shelly. "Here," she offered. "Want to have half of my candy bar?" I eagerly snarfed it down, whimpering my thanks.

I'm proud to say that I won Camper Of The Year.
No, I meant that I was instrumental in winning Camper Of The Year.
Shelly won Camper Of The Year for her selfless act in sharing her candy bar.

All this and more swirls through my head as I surf and cry, surf and cry, surf and cry, surf and cry and....well....I think you get the picture.

How would I survive a real disaster?

Would I push my way to the head of the line? Would I fight for the one bottle of water? Would I be gracious enough to have compassion for my fellow sufferers?

As I sit here with a full refrigerator in a clean, safe house, I ponder.

Furthermore, I ruthlessly examine my psyche to ask myself, How great is it that I'm not "poor"?

I had it all. I had the best schools. I had parents who read books to me from the time I was in diapers. I had parents who played classical music to me in the crib. I had lots of clothes. I had parents who didn't ask me would I be interested in finishing high school. I had parents who asked me if I really thought that one graduate degree would be enough. (My father had three)

Every effort was met with loving praise.

I can not...not in good conscience...put myself in the shoes of my friends. My friends, many of them, were the first ones in their family to set foot on a college campus. Some had parents who pushed them to achieve, but others did it on their own. All By Themselves.

I see the fire in the eyes of some of the students that I teach at the small community college. I see the drive and determination to get ahead.

Yet I have seen so many others who accepted the life that had been laid out for them, and don't dream of more than the little bits of existence that they have.

As a Legal Aid lawyer, I saw girls whose only ambition was to be a Professional Girlfriend. They were taught that they should market their beauty to whatever oaf would give them a roof, a bed, and a beer. I started out filled with eagerness to help. "You should go to get your GED," I'd exhort. "Yes ma'am," they'd reply. I'd find the GED application on the front lawn.

Would I have been able to climb out of poverty if my life had been different?

I don't know.

All I know is that I sure wish I hadn't eaten that candy bar.