Upgrade: Part I of II

When Kenny was 6 years old his parents used to make him walk to and from school. They said it was to help him establish trust in their eyes. Kenny knew it was because he was fat and they thought it would help him lose weight.

            A one way trip was about a mile long. Overall, it was fine and Kenny didn’t mind it, even if he did mind his parent’s hidden agenda. At the close of the journey to school, every morning Kenny would traverse the baseball diamond and surrounding field. And every morning the dew from the grass would coat his discount store sneakers in a thick layer of moisture. Because the baseball field was on school property, naturally as Kenny neared this space many school age children could be seen on foot converging towards the building.

            One day in particular had stood out in Kenny’s mind for years. A friend, Adrian hustled up to Kenny’s side as he strolled through the dewy grass. “Kenny, we need another kid for baseball today after school you in?”

            Kenny’s delight at the thought of taking in an activity with friends overruled his critical thinking skills for a moment. “Oh heck ya man!”

            “Great, we need a pitcher. You can use my glove.” Adrian smiled and trotted off ahead, Kenny could hear him telling some of the other kids heading towards the school, “Kenny’s gonna pitch for us today…”

* * *

            “I never went to the game,” Kenny shook his head. The memory was there with him, as though it were still happening. A few key moments, on repeat in his brain for 30 some years of his life.

            “So what happened at the game?” the man on the other side of Kenny’s story was a stern, but wise looking chap dressed in a white lab coat. He had circular glasses and distinguished grey hair combed over to one side.

            “That’s just it Doctor Blevins, I never went.”

            “Why not?”

            “I couldn’t just come out and tell those kids I had a disability, they would’ve roasted me.”

            Blevins removed a stethoscope from Kenny’s bare chest. “So what did you do?”

            “I lied”, Kenny admitted, “I told them I forgot. They never invited me to another game again. And I went on never telling anyone about my disability. Doc, I hope you understand what this prosthetic means to me. This is not just a chance to at increased efficacy. This is a chance to become whole, to become normal.”

            “Alright Kenny, first things first, you’re physically in great condition. Despite the story you just told me, that childhood weight obviously dropped off at some point. Regarding the surgery you are cleared. But I want you to understand something…”

            Kenny was putting his shirt back on but paused to hear Dr. Blevins.

            “…Getting this surgery, receiving this prosthetic isn’t going to make you normal.”

            Shirt now on, confusion flashed in Kenny’s eyes, even as the doctor began to elaborate.  

            “This prosthetic is a trade off. You will gain functionality in your hand. So much so it will be above and beyond that of an average person. However, you will also gain the unwanted attention of many who cannot afford the investment of an Astir Industries product.”

            “C’mon doc, it’s like driving a Mercedes. It’s a status symbol.”

            “Perhaps, but unlike your current physical condition, you cannot hide this product in a garage, or lie to those around you about its existence. It will be in plain sight, 24 hours a day, yada yada yada.”

            “Lie about it?” Kenny laughed loudly as he hopped from the examination table. “Dr. Blevins I’m going to proudly show it to the world.”

            Dr. Blevins nodded. “Please see Marjorie on your way out about scheduling a surgery date.”

* * *

            On the way home Kenny rode the subway alone, smiling stupidly at the appointment reminder he had received from the Blevin’s assistant. Two weeks.

            In two weeks he would be happy. In 14 days he would be a man. In 336 hours he would be strong. In 20,160 minutes he would be independent.

            When Kenny wasn’t staring at the appointment card he was fumbling through the pamphlets he was given. One of which was beige and green tri-fold that was titled ‘Astir Industries: Life perfected’ and a second black and white booklet had a cover that read ‘Upgrade: Dealing with the Physical and Psychological Changes that perfection brings’.

            Those sharing the car with Kenny all eyeballed the literature. With silent judgment, they scanned Kenny. They saw him in his drab jeans, and well worn t-shirt. To them, he cast a distinctly sub-average visage. Collectively, their eyes seemed to say; what’s so special about him.

            One woman, a white-haired beast in a wheelchair, whispered at Kenny, “Fuckin’ elitist.” Kenny was so caught up in himself he didn’t notice. He just continued to smile that stupid smile.

* * *

            Kenny arrived home, his wife of 12 years greeted him. He was ecstatic when he told her the news. She, less so.

            “You were approved? I didn’t think they’d clear you.”

            “What is that supposed to mean Claire?”

            “I just thought the evaluation…so few actually make it.”

            “Nah, Dr. Blevins said that’s a thing of the past now Astir wants to be freer to open up upgrades to the general populace.”

            “Provided they can pay for it?” Claire responded.

            “Are you mad?” Before Claire could answer, Kenny blurted an accusation, “No you’re jealous! Oh my God!” Kenny wanted to laugh, but he suddenly felt so sad. He had come home to share his great news, and had been met with defiance.

            “Jealous! No, my no. I am happy for you but…”

            “But what?” Kenny heard his voice rising, but didn’t fight it. He was hurt and wanted to be heard, and also he wanted to hear what was on Claire’s mind. What she really thought.

            “It’s so much money.”

            “You’re kidding me? That’s what you are worried about? Baby, I have scrimped and saved--”

            “We have saved.” Claire tried to interject, but her protest was overtaken by Kenny’s sheer volume.

            Kenny continued to yell, “--and gone without for years in the hopes that I would be able to do this one day.”

            “What if we have an emergency? What if we need our nest egg?”

            Kenny sighed, but continued his tirade, this time adopting a different approach, “You don’t understand what it’s like to live like this.”

            “What if I want more than this? Look around you! Do you think this rinky-dink apartment and off the rack clothes are what I’ve dreamt about all these years? Why do you get what I want and I get nothing?”

            Kenny paused as tears welled in Claire’s eyes, but only for a moment. “Because what you want is material, and what I want is so much more than that.”

            Claire stormed off, taking refuge in their tiny bathroom.

            The couple didn’t speak until late that night. They angled themselves around the small apartment, for fear they’d both turn its coziness into a setting for close quarters combat.

            At bedtime they both blurted out the same thing, just a beat or two from being completely in unison: “I’m sorry.”

            “Go ahead,” Kenny offered, “I was so rough on you today. You go first.”

            “OK I have to admit, I never thought they’d approve you. That’s why I agreed to you having the surgery.”

            Kenny nodded; he knew it deep down but hated to hear her say it, at the same time he needed to hear her say it aloud. “And I am being selfish with our money.”

            Kenny tried to continue but was cut off when Claire pressed a finger over his lips. “But I know how much this means to you, even if I don’t understand all of what it means to you. Just promise me you won’t freak out. Ya know, afterwards.”

            “I promise.” Kenny looked at Claire, her warm face, gentle eyes and inviting lips. He could tell she’d been crying for the better part of the afternoon. “I’m so sorry I yelled at you. I love you. ” He kissed her more times than they could count.   

CHECK BACK NEXT WEEK FOR PART II - THE EXCITING CONCLUSION!

DeVos Doesn’t Want Educated Citizenry

Before I begin I will make one thing clear; it is my belief that corruption and politics go together like senators and sex scandals. Further, I do not think that monetary (or other) influence(s) is unique to one party or the other. If political sell outs were baby names nearly every elected official could be called “Aiden”, “Kayden” or “Brayden”.

            Which brings me to the elected official that this piece will highlight; Betsy DeVos.

by AntarcticSpring on DeviantArt

               No wait a second...

 That's better, or at least more accurate.

            The Secretary of Education has over thirty years of teaching experience and has been known throughout her career as a champion of the disenfranchised. She has built her altruistic legacy through her work with non-profit education foundations. In addition, she has given most of her meager earnings to those within our country that are most in need.

            No wait scratch all that, our current Sec of Ed has a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration and Political Science (Emery, 2017). Her own children never attended public schools (Emery, 2017). DeVos is also a bona fide billionaire. However, rest assured she does contribute philanthropically, and although it is hard to pin down, it seems she and her husband Dick are particularly fond of supporting Christian education (Emery, 2017). Finally, she is a proponent of what DeVos herself labels as “school choice” – going as far as saying that the federal government has a monopoly-like grip on education (Weller, 2018). She also has taken steps to eliminate student loan forgiveness. Not coincidentally, she holds an interest in a debt collection agency that focuses on repayment of past due student loans.

            There are of course, concerns with all of these things. Although, what bothers folks (but doesn’t surprise them) is what she’s done since being in office.

            DeVos, someone with little experience in public education, but seemingly at least some business experience continues to support an educational for-profit business model that yields little in the way of results. Many sources have shown that the charter schools that DeVos is so fond of fall behind statistically when it comes to their main goal, educating the nation’s youth. In fact, some studies have indicated that some of these charter schools have amassed a sad graduation rate of only 48% (Hefling, 2017). Further, many of these schools have been labeled as a contemporary form of segregation, reporting that 70% of African-American students attend schools that are nearly all minority students (Weller, 2018).

            These results are part of what makes DeVos’s unwavering support of charter schools all the more mystifying. Typically, those in business look at the benefits of what their product produces- what make the product worthwhile to consumers. In a competitive market (a market with the choices DeVos often touts) this matters because the opposition will be quick to deliver on that which is lacking in order to gain an advantage in the marketplace.

            With education, everything is different. There isn’t truly any competition, there are contracts. There isn’t really value of the DeVos brand over another, instead there are vouchers.  

            DeVos’ maiming of the country’s educational system doesn’t just stop at curling her boney fingers around another crumpled dollar at the expense of an entire generation. She has also repealed no less than 72 federal statutes that serve students with various types of disabilities (Hammerschlag, 2018).  This action is as transparent as it is repulsive. Clearly, accommodating students with disabilities is cancer to the bottom line, DeVos’ bottom line.  

            Beyond the almighty dollar, is there anything else that motivates DeVos? That becomes harder to say. As mentioned earlier she seems to support the idea of religion in schools, and this writer would state that there’s nothing wrong with that, she only needs to make sure those same religious morals accompany her own decision making.

            When it comes to DeVos we have 2 things we can use with which to form opinions on her intent; her history and her actions in office. Each of these has thus far demonstrated her intent is not to educate, but merely profit off of the idea of education.

           

References

Emery, D. (2017, February 7). Meet Betsy DeVos, Trump’s Secretary of Education Nominee.     Retrieved May 6, 2018, from Snopes: https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/betsy-devos-education-   secretary/

Hammerschlag, A. (2018, May 5). Betsy DeVos gets standing ovation from Florida graduates after   religious speech. Retrieved May 6, 2018, from Arizona Republic:   https://www.azcentral.com/story/news/nation-now/2018/05/05/betsy-devos-religious-   commencement-speech-earns-standing-ovation-fla-college/583868002/

Hefling, K. (2017, October 8). DeVos champions online charter schools, but the results are poor.   Retrieved May 6, 2018, from Politico: https://www.politico.com/story/2017/10/08/education-betsy-   devos-online-charter-schools-poor-results-243556

Weller, C. (2018, February 7). New education secretary Betsy DeVos champions vouchers and   charter  schools — here's what that means. Retrieved May 6, 2018, from Business Insider:   http://www.businessinsider.com/what-are-charter-schools-2017-2

It's Not About the Money...

…It’s about sending a message.

Words uttered by the Joker in Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight just before setting fire to a monumental pile of cash. A powerful scene that gives the viewer insight into the character’s true motivation. But chaos and mayhem aside, is it realistic? How dependent am I on the comfort of money? And maybe more importantly, do I even have a message to send?

Before answering that question, I suppose it’s important to frame it with the proper history.

From humble beginnings, I am the guy that grew up on baloney sandwiches laced with government cheese, and somehow ended up wearing hand-me-downs even though I was the oldest sibling. Many a school year I was the child that hadn’t gotten new clothes and was wearing last year’s fall fashion to homeroom on day one of class. The only thing I knew about Nike was that I didn’t have any (Alas a swoosh-less upbringing, woe is me), and it seemed everyone else did. My parents, God bless them both, somehow fed and clothed a family of four on a mere $17,000 a year. That being said, I wasn’t aware I was poor until I got around kids in school that weren’t. Trust me, I believe the ignorance of my youth was a good thing, and of course a credit to my parents.

Through my teens, even after I started working, the lure of upgrading my lifestyle with brand names eluded me, or perhaps I eluded it. 

In my twenties, things took a turn as I began earning more dough. I drank Budweiser and Jaeger, and thought them to be the height of alcoholic beverages. My mall trips consisted of safaris wherein I would attempt to find the World’s most classless and ugly shirts. Remember those button-ups that were imitation silk, the bright ones with the swirling dragons and flames that were lapping up from the shirt tails? Ya, I kept those things in market for several years. And I apologize.

Fast forward some ten or so years, and all my running shoes have passed the swoosh test. I no longer eat government cheese, but instead opt for dropping about a hundred dollars a week on restaurant grub. My clothing choices now include a selection of about 100 printed t-shirts, and for more formal events a few vests and slacks (though most of these are recycled work clothes that no longer get worn). Guinness and Gentleman Jack can be found taking up space in the bar these days. Needless to say I’ve gotten quite a bit more comfortable embracing America’s new favorite pastime; consumerism.

Though sometimes I wonder, why did things change? Supposing it’s normal to alter one’s spending habits as you earn more income, my theory is as follows: I can be a fairly persuasive person, particularly I can talk myself into anything. Had a bad day? Resolve it with a spending spree. Stress on the job? Relieve it with a nice drink. While you’re at it, don’t waste your cash on your regular fare, upgrade! Why, because you deserve it pal!

Naturally, because of the path I’ve followed in this regard I find myself asking as of late, could I go back to the way things used to be?

My answer is a simple one: I think I’ve lost my taste for government cheese.

Kidding aside, I think I could, but only if I had to. If by some uncontrollable event, I no longer had the means to enjoy my current standard of living. Please don’t misunderstand me either. I’m not writing this to brag about where I’m at vs. where I came from. Everyone that has the ability to read these words is without a doubt better off than a majority of the rest of the world (Fact is as of 2012, even the bottom 10% of U.S. income falls in the top 30% of global income distribution).  Additionally, we all have our own vices. Some of you might even be reading this on the latest IPhone. I’m not even going to call out the fact you’ve probably wasted hundreds of dollars running out to the Apple store to buy the newest model, even though your previous phone was probably without defect. I believe nearly every American is guilty of this type of behavior to some degree.

At the end of all this contemplation I suppose I’m not so bad overall. At least I’m to the point where I’m thinking about what my hard earned cash goes towards, and that’s a step in the right direction if nothing else.

So I suppose we’re to the point where I have to get to mine. Getting back to what I referenced about having a message… Simply put I believe mine is as follows; it’s worth taking a look at what demands your dollars attention. Just because you’re spending within your means, doesn’t mean what you spend has meaning.