The Lower
Class
Michael Williams was one of my best
friends as a young child. On many days,
I enjoyed crossing the street to hang out with him at his apartment
complex. Michael was fun and had a sense
of adventure. There was always something
to do with him. We played all kinds of
sports like soccer, basketball and touch football, and we often walked along a
path in the woods that was behind his residence.
Besides being fun, I always marveled
at Michael’s ability to gather all of the local kids to participate in his
activities. Growing up a single child in
a two-story house, I could have gone days without interacting with other
children if I hadn’t had “the complex kids” just a short walk away. But, I could always count on Michael to
gather the gang together, so I had a pretty active social life.
This friendship continued until
around 7th grade when we entered different classes at school, so I
saw a lot less of him. This continued
into high school when I was put in the Advanced Placement (AP) program. These courses went at an accelerated pace for
“intellectually gifted” children. My
classmates, like myself, were students aiming to get accepted into Ivy League
schools and other prestigious universities.
Michael, on the other hand, remained in the “regular” classes. Many of the students there didn’t seem to
have any particular goals other than to graduate from high school and see where
things went from there.
Looking back, I don’t think I
purposely wanted to distance myself from someone I had spent a lot of time with
growing up. I just think we naturally
went our separate ways. I associated
with students who shared passions of mine like politics, volunteering in the
community, and journalism. I suppose I
assumed someone like Michael wouldn’t have any interest in such things. I never asked him. In general, the kids who participated in the
clubs and activities I took part in, such as the student newspaper and the
debate team, were in the AP classes. I
also got into sports like cross country and swimming, while he was on the
football and basketball team. There
didn’t seem to be any common interests.
After high school, I entered one of
the country’s highest ranked journalism programs and interned at major news
stations. I was exceptionally gifted at
my craft. People said I knew how to tell
a story like no other. I was able to get
a job as a reporter immediately after college for one of the city’s most
important newspapers. All of my hard work
had paid off.
One day, I was assigned to cover a
rally for an up and coming politician running for congress. I heard he was extremely charismatic and had
started a grassroots campaign that was mobilizing locals in ways other
politicians hadn’t. I was naturally
excited to learn more about this person, and I immediately began inquiring who
his contacts were so that I could set up an interview with him. When one of my colleagues came back with
information about representatives for “Michael Williams,” I didn’t even
consider it might be the person I had grown up with. After all, hundreds, if not thousands, of
people had the same name. It wasn’t
until I did some research and saw some videos online of him, was I able to put
two and two together.
A flood of memories came back as I
read up on his budding career. His
evolution into a major force in the local community both inspired me and caused
me a flood of regret for overlooking him all of these years. Was it possible that a person who had
convinced himself he was a champion of social justice and equality been guilty
of looking down at someone because he had been in a lower class than
himself? I clearly had underestimated
Michael and his potential, and it was something that caused me a bit of
shame. It still does.
Comments
Post a Comment