The triangle above is called Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. It’s not a new concept; it was created by Abraham Maslow in 1943, one of the first post modern tools that IMHO truly transcended being theory and became a practicable important conceptual framework.
It explains the problems of poverty in a simple infographic.
One cannot reach the top levels without first fulfilling the bottom levels. We can’t be loved until we feel safe enough to give and receive love. We can’t work toward a greater purpose when we struggle to eat. I adapted this for rhetoric once in a grad seminar paper. If I can find it, I’ll post my version sometime.
Here’s the reason I bring it up today, though: some realtalk. I’m about to start my 6th year post-PhD as a faculty member at Miami. It will be my 17th year as a teacher at the college level. That’s like four careers for an NFL runningback, and it’s a fair piece of work for a career in most fields.
When I start in August, I will begin my first day on the actual tenure track. Forget that the people I graduated with are going up for tenure (or already did). This is the start of my climb. 17 years in a career and I’m just starting at the beginning.
It’s not as awful as all that, really. I mean I’ve done some awesome things, and life is pretty good, all things considered.
But there’s a problem for me. A really big problem.
Phill facts: my mom was married to my step-dad when I started my undergraduate career. His credit was awful, so to help them survive (I was living there, too, so it seemed right), I got credit in my name. When he left her– a long story I won’t be telling here any time soon– he left me with all that debt. It destroyed my credit.
Things didn’t get any better going to graduate school. Bills piled up as multiple jobs were done here and there, anywhere, to make money. And no, I’m not great with money. I’ll admit that. I buy gifts for the people I care about and I am quick to blow $20 or $30 on a movie or a toy or on food when we’re out. I am working at getting better about how I spend every day.
But I’ve also lived as someone who is poor, who has credit that is just horrifying, and who has been underpaid for the last five years.
It comes to a head this summer. I’m picking up all the work I can, but I cannot support my family. I’m… a failure. I can’t handle the first rung of the fucking pyramid.
When I started at Miami five years ago, I showed up with just enough money to cover my first month’s rent and some groceries. And not many groceries. I lived on a big pot of self-made tomato sauce with pasta each week for over a month. I rolled coins for medication and gas money. I couldn’t fulfill the bottom rung of the pyramid.
And I know what a crass person– maybe even a realistic person– will say reading this: you’re living above your means.
And I am. But that’s why I got a PhD in the first place. I didn’t want to be where I was when my step-dad left and I had to revert to going to an open admissions college to get my degree. I didn’t want to go back to not knowing if I could survive until the next paycheck.
I put in the effort and did the work to have a chance to move up the socioeconomic ladder, even if just slightly.
I hope I make it to fall without something awful happening and I can finally, after five years, make the money and be regarded with the value I deserved and worked for all along.
But I can’t help but feel like I failed. Like I did something wrong.
And the reason I feel that way is because I can’t move up this silly pyramid.