Thanksgiving Day Dissonance
by Elouise
Could this be Deep South white shame?
The shame of being almost
but not quite this
or that?
Rich – Poor
Privileged – Underprivileged
Proud – Ashamed
Grateful – Embarrassed
Living one life – Living two lives
Consider the evidence:
Too proud to ask for money, yet
ashamed and afraid to look relieved when it’s given outright.
Friend of wealthy people, yet
beholden to them.
Educated in a private church-related grade school, yet
carrying the stigma of being a charity case.
Daughter of an ordained minister, yet
unable to explain what my father ‘does’ for a living.
Living in a big fancy house, yet
not owning it or having enough food.
Living in a big fancy house, yet
half a mile away are many small not-fancy houses in ‘colored town’.
Relieved my skin is white, yet
embarrassed and never sure what to say or do about it.
Grateful to have a mother, father and sisters, yet
terrified my schoolmates will find us boring and strange.
Feeling I’m finally beginning to fit in, yet
No, I can’t go to the prom or come to your party.
Almost, but not quite this or that.
Grateful for who I am, yet
not fully comfortable in my skin.
Perhaps this is the feeling of being human?
If so, I’ve arrived.
* * * * *
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 November 2014
Telling the Truth 
Elouise , the plight of man. Happy Thanksgiving, my friend. Enjoy your day!
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Thanks for your comment, Levi. Very little is easy or quite the way we might wish it to be. I’m enjoying this day so far!
Elouise
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I can identify with everything you wrote only we did not have a “colored town” in our town. But I certainly did not feel like I fit in and not being able to do anything that the others did, including not being able to go to the movies, made me feel like I was not okay and that I could never fit in. I remember moving to a new town where my father had taken a church. A lady from the church came to visit and she made us laugh and feel so accepted. After she left I commented that I thought I was really going to like it in this new town because this person really seemed to like me. My father let me know that she did not really like me. No one really liked me. They only liked me because I was the minister’s daughter and they had to like me. I believed my dad. After that, I was always second guessing my relationships as those words of my father had been burned into my soul. I even transferred this idea my father planted in me to God. He only liked me because He had to like me, not because He really wanted to. I am so glad that today I can say that I know God loves me and cares for me, not because He has to but because He wants to.
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This is so very sad. I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I think people make many unintentional assumptions about families of ministers. I pray there are wise people out there taking note of your story and its connections to mine. There’s still in ‘this day and age’–as we like to say–so much hidden sorrow, agony and pain in church-related families. No matter what they look like on the outside. No, we have not in this so-called enlightened age, moved beyond all that.
Love and hugs,
Elouise
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