Difficulties In Love

Obviously this is a topic that will take more than one paragraph, but I thought I would begin to tackle it today. My partner, Wonono, and I have been together for six years. The first one was extremely difficult, for many reasons. First of all, if you don’t believe our society is made up of different ‘classes’, I beg to differ. Our relationship has made this abundantly clear. I grew up middle class in Roselle Park, New Jersey. My mother was extremely progressive. When I was in elementary school she and my friend Kenny’s mom were glued to the television at our house watching the McCarthy hearings. I doubt that anyone else in that conservative little town was watching them, but both mom’s were pretty upset by what they were seeing. I knew my family was not ‘typical’. Wonono grew up in a poor Chicano/Native American family in Santa Barbara, California. His home life was chaotic, with drug and alcohol abuse and all that goes with it. Finances were always tight; gifts rare if non-existent. Though we have a similar political and personal perspective in how to ‘be’ in the world: how to behave towards others; what matters and what doesn’t; what to work for; as well as a very similar sense of humor – we also entered the relationship with definite preconceptions about money, about our place in society, about what ‘work’ means – about lots of things. I suppose most of my friends over the years have also been middle class. So I had assumed that my belief system reflected reality. He and I struggled a lot that first year, and it was very painful because in some ways we had very differing views on what was real. I believe education matters a great deal; I have always planned ahead: what do I want to study, what will I ‘do’ with my degree; and how will I improve my lot and that of my children. He certainly wanted to protect his kids, but he also felt compelled to work for his tribe, for no recompense, and dropped out of college because of familial issues but never went back. Graduating and planning were not in his lexicon; he didn’t want to join a system that had repressed him and his people for centuries. It took me a long time to let go of the notion that his beliefs were self-destructive. I have read widely in the past few years in both black, Indian and Chicano literature and found that he is not alone in this view. Of course there are non-white Americans who want to ‘move up’ in the national hierarchy, but there are more who believe the cost is very great. I’m sure this gives you some idea of what we faced, joining together. I have learned that my reality is just that: my reality. It comes from my background, what I have lived through and learned, and what I have been taught, as does his. And there’s the rub. Over these years I think we both have learned an enormous amount about acceptance, and because of that, our love has grown and matured. More about that another time.