Geeky Chic

My mom is a good person, but sometimes she says things that represent
what I despise most, the “what about my share?” American
mentality.  In discussing the hurricane and its aftermath, this is
what she told me, “You know, all of these people are going to need
entitlements, and this makes me worry, there’s going to be nothing left
for C [my disabled sister].”*

When I asked her if she was donating any money to the relief effort,
she told me, “You shouldn’t give your money to other people, you have
your own sister to help out.”

Excuse me?

These people have nothing, nothing!  C and my mom have me to help
them already.  Why does she have to look at this disaster through
the lens of her piece of the pie being cut thinner?

Comparatively, we live lives of great luxury compared to the rest of the world.

This has also forced me to think deeply about my own personal choices
over the past few years.  Yes, I took the lazy approach to my
career, I did the big firm thing.  I don’t mind the big firm
thing, but it stems from both the aforementioned laziness, and the
whole, “I need to attain a modicum of financial stability before I can
turn to the causes/issues that will be the real purpose of my
life.”  But sometimes, I push this deferment of helping others in
a significant
way to the
next generation (i.e. “I’m meant to make partner, so that I can raise a
child who will go out and save the world, instead of going into finance
or biglaw.”)   I lull myself into adopting this false belief
that it’s the privileged children, who don’t need to worry about saving
for a downpayment or student loans, who are allowed go out and take on
these public interest projects.  But, no, the only thing that
keeps me between the two paths is my own selfish desire for incremental
financial gain.  So, now, in the interim, I simply work too much,
drink too
much, and shop too much, all with the idea of stashing away the excess
cash so that I can do good works later.  And this process is
simply making me a stranger to myself.  So, in two to four years,
folks, I count on you to goad me, to goad me into feeling inadequate if
I have not changed back by then.  The question to me should not be,
“E*, what are you making now?” but should instead be, “E*, who have you
helped this week?”

*My mother is aware that I am quoting her, and has told me, “I’m not going to tell you anything, anymore.”