By Scott Morgan
Prompt: Define what “cosplaying life” — not like at Halloween, or a Ren Faire, like when someone dresses as a character — means to you.
I don’t cosplay poverty because despite that the electric company would occasionally shut off the power for unpaid bills,
— despite that half of the clothes I wore as a kid were 15 years out of style,
— despite that dinner was often leftovers for lunch at the school where my dad worked,
— despite that I thought going out to a restaurant with my parents was a bona fide vacation,
— despite getting into fights in school over my K-mart knock off sneakers that I had to wear until the holes wore through,
— despite that mom would furnish the house with goods paid for on Layaway,
— despite all that, I never really went unsheltered, unclothed, or unfed.
I might have worn rags, but I wore. I might have eaten crap, but I ate. I might have grown up in Trenton, NJ, but I could close my door, and I survived.
And despite not trying to cosplay poverty for some bullsh*t street crud, it bothers me when someone of means tries to relate to people who’ve really had it rough.
I don’t know how it is these days to need to take a bus to shop for food, just because I did that for a news story.
I didn’t write that story. That would be disrespectful. It’s not my lived experience, it’s my role play. I could stop the simulation anytime I wanted to.
A friend who grew up wealthy — not rich — wealthy, had a father who’d grown up on actual dirt floors.
He was a Cardinals fan because seeing cardinals every spring meant hunting, and he could eat again.
He would occasionally shut off the power to teach his kid — my friend — that everything could go away at any time.
My friend told me this as if she understood the real power shutting off and not being sure when it would come back on.
Recently, I read an “experience piece” by someone who’d spent the night in a shelter.
I imagine it’s a noble goal, but being well-intentioned and being intentional about solutions should not be confused as the same thing.
Empathy has an ugly side-effect, which is the creation of ingroups, and, by extension, the creation of them.
And yet how do we love without empathy?
Life is complicated.
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