Why we hope

2011 Feb 25

I’m one of the lucky ones. I have documentation that I am a citizen of this United States of (North) America. I have a full time job. I have medical insurance. I have a retirement plan. I had parents who were considerate enough to die with money left over to leave to me and my brother (and who were nice enough to let me be born white and middle class). I own property. I have a college degree. I truly am lucky.

Next week I have the opportunity to experience “day-surgery” at my local HMO hospital. I have used this privilege before, and don’t have too many qualms about this upcoming opportunity. If all goes as hoped for, I’ll be out of work around a week (bless you scientists and pharmacists who have made pain killers readily available).

I am lucky. I live in the US of (North) A, and employed full time at a job where I have reasonably good medical benefits. I am having surgery that is technically elective, in that it is correcting something that more of a nuisance and is not currently life-threatening. Nonetheless, there is an easily identifiable medical need and I didn’t have to negotiate with my healthcare provider nor my employer. I am indeed lucky.

When all is said and done, my out-of-pocket expenses for this surgery will be around $100, plus some mileage and, if I am really looking at all of the expenses, a day of minimum wage for my good friend who will drive me to and from the hospital, and stay there for the anticipated five hours duration. So, call it $200 out-of-pocket for me.

Of course, I pay several hundred dollars a month for the insurance, and my employer also pays several hundred dollars a month towards the insurance premium. Oh yes, then there is the Family Medical Leave Act and short-term disability insurance that will pay the difference between my salary and the disability payment. For ease of discussion, let's call that around a thousand dollars. And let’s see, the average daily cost of a hospital stay in Southern California is $20,000. Now we’re talking more than chump change or pocket money. (Note to self, medical costs are the leading cause of personal bankruptcy filings in the US.)

I have a few thousand dollars of credit card debt, a mortgage, and am supporting two households on my salary. I have some inherited funds that are fairly liquid that I choose not to access, and part ownership of two dwellings. I also have a small defined pension plan and a relatively small 401 (k) plan. So, if push came to very hard shove, I could pay for my medical costs for this surgery.

But I am one of the lucky ones. I was born white in the US to middle class parents. I was able to go to college, and actually have bachelors and masters degrees. I have a full time job and a retirement plan.

But what if I weren’t white? What if my parents didn’t value education as much as they did? What if I had been in a different division and got “down-sized” a few years ago? What if my mother and father weren’t frugal and allowed me to inherit what I think of as a small fortune? If I didn’t have Mom’s cash still in the bank, and didn’t have insurance, I would not be able to have this surgery. The medical problem would continue and probably grow worse, causing me more and more pain, and ultimately, probably causing a painful and disgusting death within a few short years.

What are the societal costs of my earlier-than-expected death? Would my son be able to go to college? Probably not. Would my son inherit any property or cash? Probably not. This is the downward spiral that many of us are facing. And I’m one of the lucky ones: one with a job, papers and insurance.

What if I were like my high-school boyfriend: green-card immigrant with not even a high-school education; living on playing piano at bars and dealing drugs to put food on his mother’s table?

Or my college professor friend, whose husband was denied a green-card, leaving her to give birth to their son thousands of miles apart from him, and raising him on her own until she could find another job closer to his home?

Even as I take advantage of my privilege, I worry about those who have less. My religion (Unitarian Universalist) requires me to live my truth: to put my money, time and talent where my mouth is. This is (in my not-so-humble opinion) the purpose of religions – to cause us to act for the greater good; to create a better place here on earth; to remind us to be humble and grateful for what we have and to share so that others may also live.

We Unitarian Universalists have a program called Standing on the Side of Love which calls us to be prophetic voices (and non-anxious presences) for justice in this world. This is the reason for unions, for protest marches, for all prophetic witness in this world. This is the reason we have hope: that someone loves the world enough to stand up for someone they don’t know yet. Together we can change the world and create a better place for all of us. Even if we aren’t white, middle-class Americans.