Rich? Who, me?
Lots of people are picking up on the New York Times’ series on class, and in particular, their interactive calculator that lets you find where you fit on their class scale.
Both Geeky Mom and Angry Pregnant Lawyer are questioning whether they really deserve the class labels that calculator came up with. Both of them commented that they don’t feel rich because there are people around them who consume much more, especially luxury goods. Laura wrote:
"We’re just missing some of the markers: big house, nice car, lots of vacations. What we have instead is: lots of degrees, multiple computers, lots of books, "enrichment" activities."
The Times calculator doesn’t include consumption at all. It’s not exactly clear how consumption and class are related. The Millionaire Next Door, Thomas Stanley argues that there’s an inverse correlation between real weath and conspicuous consumption; he claims that most millionaires drive old cars, cut coupons, don’t take extravagent vacations, etc. It’s also clear that plenty of people who are driving fancy cars don’t have a whole lot of cash assets.
The calculator also doesn’t control for location, and house values. We make it into the top quintile on wealth, but only because we had the luck to buy our house before the market got totally out of control. It doesn’t do us a whole lot of good unless we’re planning on moving someplace outside of a major metropolitan area. Conversely, I know a lot of people who are easily in the top quintile for earnings, but are priced out of the housing market in much of the area. They sure don’t feel rich.
If we wanted to make the labels more correspond with people’s subjective impression, I might call the bottom quintile "poor," the second quintile "working class," the third quintile "lower middle class," the fourth quintile "middle class," from the 80th to the 90th percentile "upper middle class," from the 90th percentile to the 95th percentile "rich," and from the the 95th to the 100th percentile "filthy rich."
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Today’s story in the series is about how class affects health. It compares the experiences of three New Yorkers who had heart attacks last spring. I was seriously afraid that I was going to witness a repeat of the poor woman’s experience from that story tonight — two minutes into tonight’s PTA meeting, one of the mothers suddenly put her head on the table and said she was having chest pains. But she wouldn’t let us call an ambulance, or even let the paramedics (who were only a block away) take her blood pressure, because "last time it cost a fortune." She did let one of the other parents drive her to a pharmacy to get her prescription filled. I hope she’s ok. She’s a quiet woman who is studying for a nursing degree. I often see her studying in the playground in the evening while her sons play.
May 17th, 2005 at 1:09 am
It seems to me that without controlling for location, the information becomes a lot less meaningful. Yes, with our income we’re quite a ways above national average, but we are still below median income for the city we live in, which affects our quality of life and living costs. Moving out of the Bay Area has its attractions… if only my parents didn’t live here!
May 17th, 2005 at 12:19 pm
wow, what a fascinating feature. I was a little startled by my results, but when I looked at the whole picture, I realized it was true; we really are in the top quintile. Our income’s no great shakes, but when you stack up education, occupations and assets, sure, we’re rich. Especially looked at from the land of associate’s degree + $9.87/hr. And yes, we live very like those Millionaire families. Thrifty, but not till it squeaks, and about 25% of our income goes to savings/investments.
We’ll use a whopping chunk of both assets and education to make sure our daughter ends up rich-across-the-board, too. That doesn’t count help for her education from also-rich grandparents and great-grandparents.
May 17th, 2005 at 3:22 pm
In my family we also don’t feel rich, and I think it’s in part due to the fact that our disposable income isn’t very high, relatively speaking. As you said, we’re busy blowing all our money on fixed expenses: a stay-home parent, really good pre-school. But I do feel privileged in two situations: when talking to our renting friends who are priced out of the housing market (we own), and at the pediatrician’s (our health insurance is quite generous).
As an aside, this makes me think about my middle class triggers. Certain things generate an irrationally strong response in me, making me feel anything but privileged. For example:
– When my kids are not clean and presentable. Dirty faces, dirty or torn or inappropriate clothes. Note that mismatched is fine, but sweat pants at a restaurant are not.
– The fact that we have a very small house with only one bathroom. Out-of-towners are often unwilling to stay with us because of this.
– Any time someone makes a snide comment about state schools. (I went to a land-grant university.)
May 17th, 2005 at 3:41 pm
I’d love to hear more, from Jen or anyone else about clothing and kids.
I think that one of my class privileges is that I feel free to buy my kids clothes at thrift shops and ebay — and frankly to let them get kind of bedraggled at times — without feeling like anyone’s going to be judging me as a bad parent for it. And I think that poor families ARE judged when their kids aren’t presentable.
Does that fit with others’ impressions?
May 17th, 2005 at 3:55 pm
Yes, I Am
Rich, that is. And I’ll admit it. Should I be ashamed? Check out this New York Times interactive graphic that will estimate where you rank in terms of socioeconomic class. Geeky Mom and Angry Pregnant Lawyer (via Half-Changed World) protest
May 17th, 2005 at 10:46 pm
My kids are often dirty and in bedraggled clothes. We buy clothes from Target and all the grandparents buy clothes for them, but nothing fancy. I do know that when we’re in the ritzier parts of town, we get funny looks sometimes because we haven’t put them into crisp outfits out of a catalog. I always think of Pip from Great Expectations and how he was embarrassed by his shoes (though he wasn’t embarrassed until he had something to compare his shoes to).
I think location is extremely important, too. If we made what we do now and lived in our former red state, we’d be living in whatever house we wanted to. The most expensive houses there were in the 300,000-500,000 range. The average house price here is in the low 300s. That’s a pretty big difference. Utility prices here are also much, much higher. We average 250/month for gas/electric where in our former state, the average was around 75. In the winter/summer months there, we’d freak out when we went over 100/mo. Here we have had a $700 bill for one month (during a really long cold spell). Those costs mean that we have less to spend on clothes, cars and other outward appearances of wealth. So while we may be quite comfortable, we just can’t show it. Plus, given that we have lived through much poorer times, we still live with the fear that we could be poor again and so are careful not to be too frivilous.
May 18th, 2005 at 1:47 am
I live in Bend, OR, which is a relatively small town in the high desert. No businesses of any size (except the hospital); most people are small business owners, work for small business owners, or sell real estate. Or telecommute. It’s an outdoor town, just transitioned from a logging town. Great skiing, mtn biking, climbing, etc. But I am originally from back East and graduated from Cornell.
Anway, the clothing thing is not an issue here, but gear is. I feel poor if I’m poorly outfitted, or if I don’t have the gear to participate in activities with everyone else. So I need a Baby Bjorn and a baby jogger and a backpack and a bike trailer, my kid needs his own bike (at age 3!) and we need the extra wheel that attaches to my bike so my kid can ride on trails with me… Used is OK but I need it all!
Faces that are dirty from eating candy are bad but holes in the pants from climbing rocks are ok.
Interesting, eh?
On another note: stay-at-home mom wasn’t on the list of careers on the NY Times web site. I had to pretend to be my husband in order to find out what “class” I’m in.
May 18th, 2005 at 1:47 pm
Wow! What an interesting discussion!
(Before I comment, I’m learning the hard way that while my husband’s a candidate everything I utter is in some way attributed to him. So here’s the disclaimer: my husband is a candidate and I am a completely separate individual, with my own thoughts and observations. Absolutely nothing I am about to say should be construed as a campaign utterance, it’s just me, reacting to some interesting stuff that I read on a cool blog written by a fellow mom in my neighborhood.)
My first reaction to the “are you rich” question will always be, “heck, no.” I’ve generally always been just fine, went through a few periods of genuinely tenuous times. David’s also always been fine. His mom was a single elementary school teacher with two sons and a slew of health problems, so they definitely weren’t well off, but they were fine. Fine but not rich.
But the truth is that now we would have to be considered “rich” in almost any context. We live in a tiny two-bedroom duplex, but given the housing prices around here we live in luxury compared to many and we’re lucky to have found something we could afford. We have significant savings, thanks in very large part to David’s mom who saved $5/week for each of her boys from the day she found out she was pregnant until she passed away four years ago. We never, ever have to pause at the grocery store checkout to be sure we’ve got enough to cover the weekly food bill. We’re not at all worried about not being able to afford water, gas, etc. And Caleb is never wanting for anything that he needs, and unless something changes dramatically in the next 13 years, we’ll be able to help him through college and out into the world. All of which puts us in at least the “very comfortable” category, which is more than can be said for a too-large percentage of other Americans.
I read a book that changed my perspective, which some of you might find interesting. It’s called “The Hidden Cost of Being African American: How Wealth Perpetuates Inequality”, and though it focuses on wealth inequalities between white and black Americans, and how those inequalities stem from our racist history, the bigger picture point for me was the extent to which being “rich” – at least the trappings of comfort if not conspicuous consumption that go with it – is much less about how much money we bring home every month and much more about how much we know we have access to should we ever really need it (or, in some cases, just want it).
One last thing: on the clothes issue. Caleb’s often a raggamuffin. He’s a boy who loves to get dirty and I just never developed the energy to fight it. Yes, Elizabeth, I do think it reflects differently on me than if I were poor and/or not white. Caleb gets grins as a rough and tumble boy, and I get props for being an easy going mom. My strong sense is that dirty kids are seen to reflect badly on moms perceived to be poor, and non-white moms.
May 18th, 2005 at 9:55 pm
on clothes: I think it’s just the old threadbare-preppy thing again. If you’re rich, of course you can afford to look like hell. Goes for adults, too. My daughter wears mostly used (ebay) older Hannas; I like the styles, durability, resale value, non-sweatshopness. So they cost about what Target does — less after she outgrows them and I resell them — but if you’re not NYT rich or living near an outlet, it’s unlikely you’ve heard of them. The non-Hannas are almost all hand-me-downs.
Personally, I look like hell most of the time, and why not, since I’m rich. Apparently I like looking like hell. Every so often I buy something nice, wear it nonstop for a month till it’s shapeless and has diet Coke down the front, then go back to flannel shirts, race shirts, and fifteen-year-old shorts and jeans. Expensive shoes you can walk a few miles in: Danskos, Birks, Haflingers, that kind of thing. Don’t own pumps or dress flats anymore. No makeup. I’ve given up on the idea of having a hairstyle; I just have hair, now. Not much jewelry, and what there is tends to be very plain, hardwearing, high quality metals/stones.
I’ve noticed my wedding band makes some women uncomfortable. It’s just a flat 4mm 18K band, matte now from being worn, no decoration. No rocks, no set. Got it at iweddingband.com for something like $100. We hadn’t decided on rings in time for the wedding, so this one was just going to be a temp, but I really like it.
My husband bought me a day spa visit last year for my birthday. I still haven’t gone because manicurists are always so appalled by my nails that I feel like I’ve defiled their salons. I don’t usually remember nails. My grandma’s were formidable, though.
It’s the bod and face that are the dead giveaway, though. Educated-looking face, no anxious permasmile, fit/sporty bod. I could go head to toe in, I don’t know, whatever’s big in the dept stores for women who style their hair a lot — or holiday sweaters, or something — but I don’t think I’d fool anyone.
If someone put a gun to my head and said “You must dress better,” I think I’d just buy a bunch of used Eileen Fisher pieces & wear them till they were all shapeless & had diet Coke down the front. And not, for God’s sake, in lilac or peach.
May 19th, 2005 at 10:44 am
Amy’s got an interesting point about face/body. I’m thinking specifically about orthodontia. Having a perfect smile, I’m realizing, is a huge class marker.
And of course the weight thing. I wonder if this is part of why moms stress so much about their daughters being overweight, like they’re going to be kicked out of the middle class if their kids turn out a little chubby?