That same
grandfather knew the importance of valuing the land that had given him a start
in life and a home to tend, and that’s why he was among Washington State’s
conservationists; he knew the efforts his neighbors and friends in that rural
town put into their labor, and that’s why he was a union organizer; he
recognized as his equal the woman who worked and lived by his side for over
fifty years, and that’s why he was a feminist. And my father, the minister? Why
he’s the most liberal Liberal I know. He and my mother—a nurse—were the ones to
teach me that real faith calls one to real stewardship. It means taking
responsibility for the welfare of others, believing in the worth and dignity
and equality of every member of society, no matter his tax bracket or race, or
her religion or sexual identity. As I see it, being on your side would be a
betrayal of these good-hearted American ancestors of mine; it would mean
forgetting everything they worked so hard to give me.
In my own
adult life, I have chosen to become, among other things, a teacher. My husband
is also a teacher. For the last decade we have primarily worked as part-time
faculty members at public colleges. Because we have two young children in need
of our attention, one of us most often teaches daytime classes, the other
night-classes. We both take freelance projects as well to add to our income.
Many nights, after we eat a family dinner and read our children their bedtime
stories, we stay up well past midnight getting work done; then we get up with
the kids at six a.m. and start all over again. In the summers, when school is
not in session, my husband paints other people’s houses. We do not own a home.
We do not take vacations. We share a single car to save on gas. Still, money is
generally tight. Most years our family of four does not owe income tax. We’re
trying to save what we have, but we are also still paying off the student loans
(both federal and private) that we, as the children of public servants
ourselves, needed to use to fund our own educations. Because we believe in
social responsibility, we also tithe to our church, and when we can we donate
to the arts foundations (many of them the beneficiaries of federal grants) that
have supported our own creative work. We coupon-clip to pay for groceries and
the clothes we put on our children’s backs before we send them out for their
day at the public elementary. We do what we can with what we have, and we’ve
honestly never considered ourselves “moochers.”
The truth,
however, is that I do believe I was entitled to the government support from
which I’ve benefited over the years. In fact, I’m raising my children to
believe that they are entitled too. Because a good society is one that cares
about its members. In a good society, people work together to ensure that
schools are accessible and well funded, that infrastructure is built and safety
personnel hired, that the average family does not have to face financial ruin
because of illness or the cost of education. I believe we’re all entitled to
live in a society that guarantees us those few but necessary privileges. And
while I understand that you and I disagree there, I think you’re missing
something. I think you’re overlooking the return. What America gets today from
the 47% is that same promise of hard work and service my grandparents made
sixty years ago. We promise our labor on behalf of the next generation’s
dreams. We promise to use our lives as stewards of our time and talents for the
betterment of a society we still believe can be great. Or, as my Sunday School
teacher once told me, we promise to keep believing that from those to whom much
is given, much can be expected.
Sincerely,
Kirsten
Sundberg Lunstrum
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Kirsten Lundstrum is a fiction writer, author of two
collections of short stories (This Life She's Chosen, published by Chronicle
Books in 2005; Swimming With Strangers, Chronicle Books, 2008), and was from
2008-2012 a member of the faculty at Purchase College, SUNY in creative
writing. She now lives in Seattle with her family. She can also be found at kirstenlunstrum.net
