I don’t have much a story to tell, which is not very surprising considering my socio-economic background. I’m the product of an upper-middle-class, white home in the Midwest. My childhood was mostly stable and free of dramatic upheaval. My friends in high school used to refer to my family as “The Cleavers”, in reference to the 1950’s sitcom “Leave it to Beaver”.
Since I left that home and decided to become an artist, my story is a bit more like everyone else’s: I’m frequently displaced in terms of housing and don’t have any guarantees whatsoever in terms of job security. I have usually shifted from one neighborhood to another. I can only afford to live in a neighborhood for a few years until wealthier people move in and drive up the rents. So, I’m constantly emigrating to new places within my city, where I’m probably a sign to the locals of impending doom. I feel bad being this person, but I also don’t know what a good alternative would be for me. I could probably afford to stay in a neighborhood longer if I took up another line of work, but I would probably be much worse off existentially if I were to do so.