{"id":22526,"date":"2017-08-18T19:57:28","date_gmt":"2017-08-19T00:57:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.davidmcelroy.org\/?p=22526"},"modified":"2017-08-18T19:57:28","modified_gmt":"2017-08-19T00:57:28","slug":"as-humans-live-in-slums-why-do-i-complain-about-my-privileged-life","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/?p=22526","title":{"rendered":"As humans live in slums, why do I complain about my privileged life?"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I’ve had a terrible day. It’s Friday evening after work. I’ve just eaten dinner. I’m sitting in a restaurant feeling frustrated and anger — partly at myself, partly at others.<\/p>\n

I’m unhappy about multiple things. I’m lonely. I want to quit my job. I miss someone. I feel alienated from the people around me. I find myself thinking that life hasn’t been fair to me. (I could tell you why. I have plenty of reasons.)<\/p>\n

And then I randomly saw this photograph.<\/p>\n

Gautam Basu<\/a> took this photo of an Indian mother and two of her children. The mother is dressing a daughter while a smaller child clings to her. The pipe in which they’re standing is their home.<\/em><\/p>\n

Basu is a talented amateur photographer who was named\u00a0Environmental Photographer of the Year<\/a> in 2011 by the Chartered Institution of Water and Environmental Management<\/a>. This photo was one of the pictures for which he was honored as he captured the real lives of the poor in India.<\/p>\n

This family lives in an Indian area called the Pipe Slum. The sections of pipe are pieces that were abandoned after a local city finished a water project. The rest of the slum is shanties built around the pipes. The sections of pipe were waste debris, but they’re everything for the people who live there.<\/p>\n

I wasn’t looking for this photo. Even as I see it now, I’d rather not see it. I would rather wallow in my own hurt and anger and discontent.<\/p>\n

But as the photo forces me to compare myself to these people, I find it hard to complain.<\/p>\n

To see how these people live doesn’t change the things that are making me whine tonight. It doesn’t make me happy. It doesn’t give me the things I crave most. It doesn’t fix the problems of someone I love. It doesn’t give me a path to the productive and creative future I need.<\/p>\n

But it does remind me how privileged I am.<\/p>\n

I just ate a fine meal and I could have eaten pretty much anything I chose. I will leave here and go to a home that isn’t as fine as I’d like it to be, but it’s safe and secure. It has a roof that keeps me dry. I have air conditioning in the summer and sufficient heat in the winter. I have a fine bed on which to sleep. I have plenty of nice clothes. I have a dependable and comfortable car to get me to the places I need to do.<\/p>\n

I worked today at a job that gives me enough income to provide for a middle-class life. I’m employed in an air-conditioned office at work which isn’t physically taxing. I have to privilege of working with people who treat me well and who generally work well together.<\/p>\n

I was privileged enough to grow up in a family and a culture where education was expected and provided without question. I am trained in how to act in my society in ways that cause people to treat me with respect.<\/p>\n

My life is terrible — inside my worst fears and hurts — but it is the height of luxury by the standards of billions of people around this globe — including the mother and children in this photo.<\/p>\n

The fact that some people have things worse than I do doesn’t change anything for me. I still hurt about the same things. I still fear the same things. I still crave the same things.<\/p>\n

But how can I whine and feel sorry for myself when I have so much? More importantly, I have the resources and possibilities to change my life. Over time, I can fix much of what’s wrong for me. If I lived in an open concrete pipe in a slum, I might not know where my next meal would come from, much less have the realistic possibility of finding the future love and security which I care so much about.<\/p>\n

I don’t feel guilty for having a better life than billions of people do. I would love to have a way to help them pull themselves out of extreme poverty, but I don’t apologize for the middle class American life to which I’ve been born.<\/p>\n

But I am vividly aware that I have privileges that many billions of people will never have. Knowing that doesn’t change anything for me, but it reminds me how very fortunate I am to have a future where I can write my own story and change my own life — while I live in absolute luxury by the standards of the world and the standards of human history.<\/p>\n

I have to remember not to feel sorry for myself. I have to remember to take advantage of the awesome privileges I’ve been given — and I have to take advantage of them in order to create the love and life and future of my dreams.<\/p>\n

I’m thankful to an Indian photographer and an impoverished Indian family for reminding me of that.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I’ve had a terrible day. It’s Friday evening after work. I’ve just eaten dinner. I’m sitting in a restaurant feeling frustrated and anger — partly at myself, partly at others. I’m unhappy about multiple things. I’m lonely. I want to quit my job. I miss someone. I feel alienated from the people around me. I Keep Reading<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-22526","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-uncategorized","7":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1x9iR-5Rk","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22526","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=22526"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22526\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22535,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22526\/revisions\/22535"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=22526"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=22526"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=22526"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}