Economics

This piece is written by Gabrielle Kerson, an old dear friend. Since writing my book and beginning this blog, friends send me pieces of writing often. I love the unintended consequence that sharing my writing, attempting to be vulnerable and bring people together, has allowed others to feel safe sharing their thoughts and feelings and (really good) writing, with me. It is an honor, and I love it so much. This particular piece by Gabby is powerful, and this topic has been on my mind. I decided to share it on my blog because it needs to be read, because it is relatable, and a real struggle so many of us feel more and more and more every single day. The Mother Road is a place to come together, to see we are not alone. Many of the struggles that isolate us are things many of us are experiencing. We aren’t alone, and we don’t just suck more than others, or somehow fail more, or aren’t as creative. Those are lies made easy by social media. Thank you Gabby for this brilliantly written, right-on reflection. Enjoy!

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I drove up to Kingston NY this week from Charlottesville, VA where I run a small play school, started
during the pandemic. I’m in Kingston for another type of work that I do, tour nannying.
In both places I work with the same type of parents I always have. Smart, creative, intentionally
parenting. Relatively successful at life. And by association, so am I.

Except we’re not right now. I set my rates to appeal to the parents I attract. High enough that they value
what I offer, low enough that they can afford it. And last year it was fine. I squeaked by. I didn’t go out,
but no one did.

This year, every time I open my bank account, or the mail, a giant wave of fear and anxiety crashes over
me. How can I make it work today? Often I think it must be me. My work ethic isn’t strong enough.
My budgeting game is off.

And then I have mornings like this. I’m working for a successful music family for two weeks. This two weeks will cover my payroll and my rent FOR two weeks & maybe new shorts for the summer. Two years ago it would have covered me for the month. And I would have done something fancy and expensive to my hair, as a reward for my hard work.

Last night the mom I’m working with and I talked about it. How we can’t buy nice things in front of our
parents, because they, maybe passive aggressively, comment on our expenditures. And by nice things
we’re talking about our – was $13, then $16 now $18 bags of coffee beans. That must be where we need
to make the budget cuts. (Buying cheaper coffee isn’t going to make the difference I wish it would.)

The next conversation we often have is- how are other people doing it? The houses, the cars, the trips, the
financial ease. And the answer is almost always inter-generational wealth. Even if the first answer is
they’re doctors and a dual income family, the back story is that there was some help getting started.
This morning the dad I’m working with and I ended up talking, like the middle-aged people we now are,
about our lack of availability for more work, and the gap between the amount we work and the amount of
income it’s starting to appear we need. 1/3 more is my estimation going off grocery bills alone.

I’m a busy person, and I like busy people. This is not a man who is frittering away his time. He does not
have an available day to take on more work until January 2023. His wife is a full time mom, who works a
full-time job, and weaves being a professional musician into the spare moments she can.

They had another friend staying over last night. A musician who had driven in from Philadelphia to lay
down some drum tracks on an album. We empathized with each other about this strange car phenomenon
that seems to happen in this particular town we are in. Our cars break down, and separately, we get
traffic tickets. There is a spot on Rt. 28 where they pull over people who don’t know better. I’ve gotten 3
traffic tickets over the last two years. He got two yesterday.

I dropped my car off at the garage this morning, it started smoking while I was driving the other night. I
don’t know if I can afford to have it fixed. I do know I can’t do my work without a car. I run a small
business out of my home and freelance on top of that. And I don’t know if I can afford to repair my car.
He almost lost money taking this gig because of the cost of a ticket.

On the walk home I was mulling over the information I’ve gathered. It’s hard to make it as a
professional, dual income family. It’s hard to make it as a session musician. It’s hard to make it as a
college educated woman with a diverse skill set and a willingness to work 80-90 hour weeks. It might just
be hard to make it.

We are not lazy people. We are not new to the game. We hustle. And like most of our generation, we
have been hustling since we hit the job market.

The implication is that it used to be easier. But it hasn’t been for us. The children of the late 70’s and
early 80’s. I was 21 when 9/11 happened and decimated the economy. I was 30 when I was laid off as a
direct result of the Wall Street crash of 2008. I was 41 when I found myself living rent free with friends
wondering how I was going to rebuild a livelihood that involved going into peoples houses during a
pandemic.

I expected it in my 20’s. Work hard, party hard, live cheap. And I still remembered how to do it at 31.
Work hard, live cheap, tighten that belt, find the fun. At 43 I’m tired. Fun would be staying home and
going to sleep not worrying about rent & bills & groceries & payroll & taxes & insurance. One of the
never ending lists of actual adulthood.

I don’t have savings. I don’t have equity. I don’t have money to pay my taxes. And as an educated,
white, liberal woman I want to blame myself. I did something wrong. I didn’t take the right
opportunities. Except it’s not just me.

It’s across the board. What it costs to live and what it’s possible to earn are numbers that don’t add up
right now. For almost anyone. And because it’s not possible to look at anything these days without
addressing social media, it’s hard to admit. Because my life looks pretty, and easy and fun. Just like
yours.