My identity is still working class, even if my work is middle class. I do middle-class work in nonprofit organizations. 


I am between classes. I’m not well connected to any one class. I do not appreciate any suggestion that my working-class identity is not valid. I strongly identify that way. 


I grew up white, poor, and working class. I did not want to do factory work. I went to college to avoid getting trapped in poverty like my mom (and her seven children) were. That scared me early in my life. As a female I fought hard against the sexism that said I could not live fully, use my mind, and have many choices. College did open new doors for me, new ways of thinking and hoping. Sometimes it stimulated my mind, and sometimes it gave me insights into classism and racism. That was a good thing. I’m glad I had the experience. No one paid my way. I worked, took out some small loans, and went to cheaper schools. 


I was poor well into my twenties. Most of my life I’ve worked in nonprofit organizations for modest pay. I was in administration in the corporate world before that but couldn’t stand [tolerate] the pressure to be more middle class—so I left. However, I did learn some good work habits and attitudes from the corporate world. 


I don’t have a pension. No one in my family ever talked about that. I am financially vulnerable and am trying to solve it by exploring different ways to live and whom to live with. (I live alone and like it, which may not be rational.)


My Social Security income (money based on lifelong earnings that we can get from the U.S. government after sixty-two years of age) is under $1,000 per month, so I must work until I can’t. I have almost no assets. Without a paid job, I would be in significant financial jeopardy—just a few paychecks away from poverty. 


I am seventy-six years old. I bought my first modest house at sixty-five and am determined to pay off the mortgage so no one can take it from me. That’s where my earnings go. It’s a lovely hundred-year-old city house, and I am always grateful that I have it. It’s a big deal [very important]. I take nothing for granted in my life. I appreciate every comfort I have (being a homeowner, having decent food and a car, being able to exercise). I live in the city by choice in a neighborhood that is eighty percent African American and twenty percent white; my street is probably sixty/forty percent. It is a nice neighborhood. It is relatively safe (having things stolen from our cars and yards is not unusual, but it doesn’t happen all the time). 


I do not have children that will help me as I continue to age. 


I have enough money to buy healthy, nutrient-dense food. I’ve invested considerable time studying food science research, of which there is plenty. Some working-class people around me are learning this as well. They are seeking answers, especially if they have been very sick. Doing this is not restricted to middle- and upper-middle-class people (a widely held stereotype that also permeates RC). 


I can’t afford vacations or RC Intensives [twenty hours of one-way Re-evaluation Counseling, for a fee, at Re-evaluation Counseling Community Resources]—maybe one every eight to ten years. 


I exercise regularly. My government Medicare insurance (for people over sixty-five) pays for my fitness center membership.


Three of my six siblings stayed in working-class work, and many of their children did also. 


I see myself as stuck between classes—not deeply connected to “blue collar and pink collar” workers and definitely not connected to middle-class people. I have not made friends with middle-class people, and I’ve lost close contact with production workers (other than with my family). My friends tend to be working-class people who are working in middle-class jobs. 


I resent any suggestion that working-class people have to stay working in factories to keep a working-class identity or live a certain way inside the oppression to be legitimately working class.


So, am I upwardly mobile? I haven’t gone far, and I’m definitely not still climbing. Yes, I do live differently than many production workers. I also know some direct production workers who make a decent [good] salary and have nice city homes and some comforts. I say that to make the point that there is more than one way for “still-working-class” people to live. 


I fully support the direction from Dan Nickerson (the International Liberation Reference Person for Working-Class People) to get direct production workers into RC and/or get RC tools into their hands. 


I am not pretending about my class background. I am not middle class. I have never fully embraced that lifestyle or perspective. Yet I know I am infected by middle-class patterns. How could I not be? They permeate our mainstream dominant culture. But I fight against them. 


Do I need to fight for deeper connections with the production workers and poor working-class people around me, including with my family? Yes. That is imperative.