And that's the Doctor's House

When I was growing up, no one spoke to me about what I could be as an adult. No one suggested I further my education, or even get a job. It was partially that we lived in a tiny town (under 3,000) and partially that we were very poor.

But not once did I hear any information leading me to understand there were differences in salaries and benefits to planning out your future. Never once was I told if you don't stay in school in get an education you will end up working at the Dairy Queen. (Though that was a pretty good job for a town of that size.)

So when my girls got old enough to start griping about school I took them for a ride in our old clunker. I don't remember which clunker; except for color and age, they were all the same.

I drove them to the poorest part of town and pointed out houses as we went through the neighborhood.

"That one belongs to the guy that picks up our garbage," I'd tell them.
"Is that where you want to grow up and live?"

"That one belongs to the woman at the laundry mat, would you like to live there?"


Then I'd drive over to the fanciest part of town I could fine. Places with outdoor pools and tennis courts.

"That's the doctor's house," I told them.
"Wouldn't you like to live with a a house with a swimming pool?"

"That's the lawyers house. The one with the giant water fountain.
"Wouldn't you like to take your friends to that house?"


I also made up stories about how the poor people had clothes from garage sales and the doctors got to buy all the new clothes they wanted. Told the diffence in Christmas and Birthday presents between the two.

It didn't really matter which house I pointed at, I had no clue who lived in which House. I just wanted them to be aware that choices they made now and throughout their lives would lead them in one direction or another.