“We Got To Move These Refrigerators”
Welcome to the working class, where the heavy lifting gets you a front-row seat to the music!
I come from a large family.
Yes, you may think this has nothing to do with the title or the epic band Dire Straits, but just hold on. I’ll get there.
My maternal great-grandmother had twelve children, my grandmother had seven, and each had an average of two kids.
My mother, in turn, gave my grandparents their first grandson and granddaughter. As the oldest female cousin among all those who came after me, I enjoy certain family-related advantages of being the oldest one.
Still, today, I don’t want to delve into the complexities that may arise from this fact. Instead, I just want to share a recent mundane moment.
Two of my younger cousins, whom I saw being born during my last high school years, have just entered the workforce.
Like their parents— and pretty much everyone in my family — they belong to the working class. These are simple words that must be used because, although definitions change over time, the conditions of these people do not.
Having twice their age and feeling almost like a maternal figure, I’m always curious about how they have…
