Class is very real. It's not just in our heads. It's who you know, who your parents know. It's the assumptions and categories you were taught as a child. There are things they know exist in the world for them, realities they accept as stable, that i have a hard time even believing in.
There are some things they don't have that my African American friend from Flint, Michigan has. My friend's family never ever disowns or cuts out a family member. They may be in jail. They may be queer (which is not approved of), but they are always welcome home. Their behavior is less important than the fact that they are family. They do not have to prove anything to anyone to be accepted. i have not found that to be true sometimes for people raised in the upper middle classes.
We enact class all the time. It's impossible to think outside of class without doing lots and lots of work. And we injure ourselves and others with assumptions and fears about class. Not necessarily brutally. i know lots of proud working class people. i think that if people are not desperately poor and they fit in with the people around them, they are as likely to be happy as anyone else.
Class does not determine happiness or satisfaction with life. But it is ever-present. It is relentless. Much harder to see outside of than racism, sexism, and homophobia -- although those are tough.
Class is determinative in ways that people constantly underestimate. Two and three generations in the upper middle class does not really turn you into a member of the upper middle class. It takes a long time to learn and unlearn the way of looking at the world that your social class created in you.
My parents came from world that distrusted outsiders. Outsiders were likely to despise you. We were vigilant about that in ways that have much more to do with living in poverty among a less respected class of people than any reality i lived on a daily basis. In fact, i was very privileged in my home town. i lived in a small house in the nicest suburb. i had educated parents doing a job that gave them some recognition -- for a while my dad was the high school basketball coach -- the town's only high school. i was an only child and felt pretty safe. i wandered around the neighborhood and the woods freely (it was the sixties). i had a good good life.
But i have had to tame that reaction to other people "mugging" me that causes my inner city students to get in fights with one another all the time. i have a lot of those same assumptions in my bones -- about the world looking down on me and mine.
i know that my friend whose parents worked their way up to great security and wealth from relatively lower middle class roots -- that their family is riddled with anxiety about losing it all. The people she went to college with -- at an elite college -- were not raised that way.
Class is, IMO, the primary prism through which we see the world.
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