Sarah wants to be the next Mia Hamm. She is a force to be reckoned with on the field; a bundle fiercely competitive sinewy muscle with boundless energy. She has that amazing combination of pride and sense of team that makes her perfect for sports like this. Every time she makes an awesome pass or scores a goal, she looks for me sitting on the sidelines. Look at me Mom! Look! Did you see?
This year, the parents have thinned out and are not the screaming rah rah rabid fans of their offspring they were last year. Some of the parents, like me, bring books, magazines or newspapers. Some of them just drop the kids off and leave.
The other day, I was talking to my Sister In Law Em. She was telling me about my niece’s soccer team. I listened, and could not help but make comparisons of our lives once again. Our daughters are 5 months apart, but their lives are vastly different.
In Em’s world, the kids pile into minivans and SUVs to go to a quick dinner at a drive through on the way to well lit soccer fields just outside of town. She passes neat little homes on postage stamp lawns and a mini-mall. The moms take turns car pooling. The concession stand sells ice cream, fountain soda and pizza. The moms do that complex dance along the line of bragging and complaining; Oh, my Josh is SO involved, I have to take him to five sports and his advanced viola lessons. I just had to spend $100 on new soccer shoes for Kaitlin. I have to eat out three nights a week because there is just no time to cook. The multi-cultural children all have salon hair cuts, brand new soccer cleats and mouth guards to protect their newly aligned teeth. It’s the picture of Soccer Mom Perfection.
Here, I listen to a mom scream at her pre-teen daughter to shut the fuck up before she gets a punch in the mouth. The kids, 98% white, arrive in mainly beater cars, pick up trucks and old, boxy SUVs. Practice is two towns away, and it ends at night fall because there are no lights. On the way, we pass coal breakers, wind turbines, and small crumbling coal towns. The concession stand serves french fries, hot dogs and deep fried perogi donated by the local Big Factory in town, water and soda donated a case at a time by each soccer player’s family, and ice pops. Most of the little boys have short cropped hair, and almost all the kids are wearing hand-me-down uniforms. The moms call home; Did you turn the oven on? Will you be right home after your shift?
The divide is real between us. I cannot put my finger on exactly when I stopped being able to relate to Em’s life and she to mine. I go to her cul de sac, lined with almost identical homes, and admire her life. But it is not for me. She comes here and enjoys the views and the pretty drive, but this is not for her. I don’t deny there are parallels either… I am sure there are moms scrambling with split shift child care in the suburbs just like I know there are moms here brag/complaining about spending gobs of money on school clothes. I don’t feel that the different paths our lives have taken us make us any better or worse than the other, but there is no denying it. To both of us, I am sure, each other’s lives seem somewhat foreign.
Sarah will go on to be a big fish in a small pond, I am sure. Really, is that such a terrible thing for the next Mia Hamm?
4 Comments
August 28, 2009 at 2:49 pm
I really like this post. It’s funny how we can be so close and yet so totally different from people.
August 30, 2009 at 2:43 pm
What a great post. I love your pointed descriptions of those two very different lifestyles.
August 30, 2009 at 10:15 pm
I see that all the time where I live. In the one suburb we have extreme wealth and people living in million dollar homes, as well as people living in government housing. There is a great divide. I often wonder if it will end up in revolution.(I can dream, can’t I?)
I would rather have your life any day than Em’s. Much more substance to it!
September 10, 2009 at 11:06 pm
The Little League families from my son’s teams over the last few years are somewhere in the middle. I live in a city that has quite a mix of low-income and high-income folk, and Little League tends to be a reflection of that — construction-working dads to doctor dads. In general, I like the mix, but you can definitely tell the divide within the team. Some kids have bats that someone paid $200+ for, and Nike cleats that likely cost $100, and fancy batting helmets apparently bought online (since I’ve never seen them in any store locally)… and the moms of those families tend to be well-manicured and trendy. But, I’ve never heard anyone brag/complain about how much anything cost… except for maybe one family, but they’re not in LL any more. And, for the most part, though there tends to be some cliquishness, it’s not excessive, IMO (by which I have been pleasantly surprised). Also, as far as ethnicity goes, it’s probably about 60-70% white, which is also a fair reflection of the city’s population… There is that hyper-scheduled vibe you mentioned, but I ignore that, because it’s never been our family’s cuppa.