Dearest Rachel –
You probably know what’s coming here. Back in the day I always used to believe that I wasn’t a picky eater; given a situation where it was called on to be polite, I’m able to eat anything… and yet, somehow I wind up balking when confronted with some of your mom’s cooking. It’s not even that’s she was a bad cook or anything; it’s just that what she would fix (grits and squirrel come to mind offhand, but I think her meatless eggplant was somewhat offputting, too) was so alien to me that, for whatever reason, it was a challenge for me to graciously consume it.
So it is with social situations, like the one I was in last night. I want to believe that I can be comfortable anywhere… and then I find myself in a place and at an event that some people would love to be a part of, and I can’t help but think I’m completely out of place.
It might have to do with the fact that I’ve got no one to sit and confide with. The scene has me realizing that I have so many things to say about the setting, but it’s clear that it wouldn’t be the right time or place to do so (although at the same time, there is no other time or place in which I might make these observations). It’s not so much that they would be inappropriate, per se, as much as they would interfere with the goal of the moment; there is no point in pouring cold water on a noble aim, just because the setting in which it’s being sold to potential stakeholders feels ostentatious to me.
You see, the evening has to do with the organization that is bringing medicine, education and… not to put too fine a point on it, but hope… to families, and young people in particular, in Honduras. That’s right, it’s a charity gala; and I just feel out of place here. I understand that some would-be donors like to be wined and dined; it’s how you get certain people’s attention, and get them to open their wallets for a worthy cause. As far as I’m concerned, it shouldn’t have to be that way. As a donor myself, I see no point in being ‘rewarded’ like this, either; it takes away from the real reward at the end of days, to be honest.
The funny thing is, I hear tell of certain environments and professions where this is practically a way of life. I’ve come to understand that Washington DC, for example, practically runs on being able to be invited to the ‘right’ cocktail parties and meeting the ‘right’ people at them; those that write and comment upon policy often temper their rhetoric because they don’t want to be ostracized from the city’s social scene. Imagine being governed by folks who are in thrall to the local ‘Heathers’ of that particular town. Now, I’m sure you could have made yourself at home in even that world if you needed to (although I remember you being disappointed with not being able to get an invite to join any of the sororities back in college), but I can barely stand this little taste of such a life.
Then again, it would seem that most of the others here don’t attend such things on any regular basis; so why in your sainted name (I ask unprintably) are we doing this? Are we all just play-acting at being sophisticated? And to what end?
Actually, scratch that; I know what the purpose is. I’ve basically already explained that, in fact. I’m just not entirely clear as to whether and why this particular method should work to accomplish it. I’m sure that my way of looking at things like this are an outlier; the world wouldn’t have venues like this if it didn’t work. And so, I need to just roll with it; just because it’s not my scene doesn’t mean that I should disparage it.
Uncomfortable as I may have been, at least this wasn’t coming from my accountant’s brain as to what an extravagance this was for the charity; if nothing else, I’ve no idea how much a venue like this costs to hire out for several nights, nor what kind of return it generates. It may very well be that it pays for itself as handsomely as it’s appointed. So I have no right to call it into question; I can only state for the record that I felt decidedly out of place for the longest time.
On the other hand, I did run into a few people who I didn’t know by face, but who I’d met since your passing and have carried on a parasocial relationship over various apps ever since. Concurrently, I also got to discuss a possible curriculum for next month with Sarah, who pointed out that discouraging borrowing (especially from local loan sharks, if that is as common as she believes) is every bit as important as encouraging saving. So that’s certainly something to consider; and proof that the night, awkward as it may have been, had its share of productive moments even for me. So let’s see if I can’t capitalize on them, eh, honey?
And with that having been said, I’d ask that you continue to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m sure I’m still going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 