We Struggle In the Land of Opportunity
What kind of “American dream” is left for the younger generations who don’t have the same opportunities that our parents and grandparents did?
Full disclosure: I wrote all this down about a month ago, and while I’m not quite in this headspace anymore and probably could afford to order DoorDash today even though I won’t because it’s better to save that money for the coffee shop I’m going to tomorrow, I think this is still worth sharing.
I just ordered DoorDash even though I know we can’t afford it.
It (kind of-sort of) looks like we can right now because we have 10 times as much money in our checking account as we did for a while a month or two ago — that is to say, we have $90 instead of $9 — but I should be taking some of those dollars grocery shopping, or to pay the exterminator whose invoice is still sitting somewhere in the house, or putting it toward another of the bills I know are coming. The dog’s vet care plan — a nonnegotiable expense — will auto-draft from our account on Monday and I’d better make sure there’s enough money there before I get paid Wednesday and have to cycle through this all over again.
But I’m so tired because I just crawled out from a stress nap underneath an old weighted blanket because I spent too much time this morning comparing the pros and cons including pricing of three different local grocery stores and wondering whether it would be better financially in the long run if we join Costco’s or Sam’s Club, even though there’s only two of us plus Penny and I’m not sure if we have enough space to store toilet paper in bulk. (Plus the nearest Costco’s and Sam’s are both 30+ miles away by car. (This is Texas, which doesn’t have the infrastructure to support mass public transit.)
God. I know, I know. I’m such a millennial.
I’m not trying to be whiny, and I know there are those who are still worse off than we are. I’m lucky to even have the option to DoorDash anything, no matter whether I’ll regret it tomorrow (I will) or if I can afford not to regret it, whether financially or health-wise. But the fact is, this is largely the future I foresee: a $7.25 minimum wage that hasn’t changed in 10 years and likely won’t within the next decade, living (mostly) paycheck to paycheck and hoping there’s enough left after the bills are paid to cover a tank of gas and a grocery run that’s 80% carbohydrates because they’re the most affordable. There are days when a $9 bag of frozen grilled chicken strips feels like a luxury.
There are days when I blame myself.
I quit a salaried-at-$18-per-hour job a year ago because it was destroying me mentally — I still remember the day I sobbed on the phone with my husband outside the office, wanting to call the suicide hotline not because I wanted to die but because I felt like I would if something didn’t change — and the job I have now, which I love, pays about as much but for 10 hours less each week. I can make up the $170 weekly deficit ($170 x 4 = $680 monthly deficit before tax and health insurance) by teaching group exercise classes, which would require another $100+ certification, or working as a personal trainer, and I’m so, so grateful the company paid for that $500+ certification but I still have much to learn before I’m ready to truly use it, or else I risk clients incurring injury. It’s not a fake-it-’til-you-make-it situation.
There are days when I blame myself for not choosing law school over the creative writing and French language degrees I have no idea how to use but felt passionate about, and I blame myself for not feeling creative enough or innovative enough to come up with a viable side hustle.
I would be perfectly content if I could financially cover everything, and my husband could be a house husband — but right now I can’t, so right now he can’t. That’s not his fault, and it’s not mine. It simply is what it is.
My elderly neighbors, wonderful people who’ve known me for longer than I can remember, recognize what many who belong to the older generations do not: the vast majority of millennials like us really can’t make it work these days on one income. The economic and social framework in place does not support that anymore; how can it, when the cost of living has risen in the past decade while many wages have not? The dollar is not worth what it used to be, and today’s minimum wage alone does not allow a family to support themselves while also being able to purchase a house and a vehicle and plan for the future. (And those who benefited from the economy that is now forcing us to struggle, and who don’t recognize as much, wonder why “nobody wants to work” anymore.)
It’s not that we don’t want to work. It’s simply that we have bills to pay, families to provide and care for, and my generation is over the idea that you should live to work (too many hours for not enough pay) rather than work to live.
We are exhausted of reaching for this American dream that doesn’t exist within reach for us, if it still exists at all. If the United States is the richest country in the world, or at least among them, why are citizens living in shelters and relying on welfare to try to make ends meet? Why can’t I afford to pay all my bills, save for a rainy day, and still be able to see a movie or go out to eat every now and then without any worry?
(For that matter, why does an entry-level position prefer a degree and one to two years of job experience? “Entry-level” should require zero experience and offer on-the-job training, or we need to call it something else.)
For a country that has long been touted — and has touted itself — as a land of opportunity and hope, opportunities don’t seem to be what perhaps they were once, and plenty of us still feel pretty hopeless.
