3 Things I Learned From Growing Up Poor

When I was young we were poor, not the “We can’t afford designer jeans” poor but the “We’ll have Kraft mac and cheese this week because it’s cheap and will make everyone’s belly feel full” poor.

At Christmas, we were allowed to ask for one “big” gift. My big gift when I was 12 was to get my ears pierced. That year, Mom took me to get my ears pierced, and I got an outfit to wear to my grandparents’ house on Christmas Eve and a package with socks and underwear.

With all that, I did learn some things from being poor. This is just three of them:

1. Friends are friends through the good and the bad. I hated being poor. I’m certain no one relishes it, but I was at an age then that it was really hard to be poor. I was just about to hit puberty, that time when everything is difficult and most of the kids are mean to try and make it easier for themselves.

I only had a couple of really good friends, but they stuck with me through it all. We listened to each other complain about whatever was happening with other kids at school or how our parents didn’t understand us. We were friends all through school and now, even though there are kids and grandkids and spouses, we still stay in touch through Facebook.

2. Fashion doesn’t have to be expensive. When I was in junior high, Jordache

Jeans were all the rage. We couldn’t afford Jordache. I wore Gitano. As anyone who grew up near one in the 80s knew, Gitano equaled Kmart. Shopping at Kmart was the next thing to being destitute, as far as the “popular” kids were concerned.

I hated that I had to be different, but eventually, I embraced it. I started wearing clothes because I like them, not because they were en vogue. I learned to cultivate my own style. To this day, I don’t mind being different and enjoy being thought of as “weird” sometimes.

3. Having a creative mind is better than all the money in the world. When I was in school, I was in the “gifted” class, meaning that my IQ was elevated and that I thought differently.

The only benefit I saw to it at the time was that I got to spend some time each month just with kids with whom I had more in common — well, some of the kids in the class. Some were the technical type, and I didn’t get them, at all!

The only other thing is that I was known as a nerd in addition to a poor kid. Great!

It was great. I had an outlet for the frustration I felt for not being popular and for dealing with difficulty with my parents and for not being challenged in classes. As my daughter said, when she went to college,” I found my nerd herd!” I finally had a place where I fit in!

Now, I’m poor again, but I’m happy. I know how to deal with it. I also have a new nerd herd in my fellow writers, and I couldn’t be happier!