Voices of Generational Poverty: My Story . . . and Why It Matters

Abstract

I grew up simultaneously rich and poor. Rich because my father’s passion was farming, dairy farming, to be specific. Our old family farm, barn, house, and grounds were overrun with cows, pigs, chickens, dogs, cats, and other assorted creatures. While I, in no uncertain terms, didn’t appreciate the four-legged animals that shared our living space, they did provide us with an abundance of eggs, milk, and meat.

I was also rich in another way. Though neither parent valued education, my mother loved to read. And obviously, her time was at a premium, with a large farm family, and few modern amenities to make domestic life easier. But she read whenever she could spare a bit of time.