let's pretend we are poor

this morning at the park maya wanted to pretend we were poor and lived there. "see this table? that's where i sleep." she told me, lying on the picnic table bench. "let's go play in my bedroom," she said, running up the grassy hill to the playground. kind of wierd, but she is trying to work things out. there has been a lot of conversation lately about the homeless and half-naked man who is living under a dirty sleeping bag on the sidewalk by the walgreen's parking lot for the past few weeks.

today i bumped into an old friend, who looked great, and was happy, but who is really living on the edge income-wise, and who has faced eviction recently and lives on food stamps. she is very tied to the neighborhood because they don't have money to take trips out of the city. she wasn't complaining. she showed me some photos of her beautiful daughter, and told me about some of the social justice activities she has been up to with her band, the brass liberation orchestra. when she spoke about her daughter it was in the most glowing terms--she is the most amazing girl, so not-entitled, so appreciative. my friend really does not have money for indulgences, and her daughter really does appreciate what she has, and is living a pretty different life than most kids. they actually wake up every morning and meditate for a few moments.

i have to say, i fantasized i would raise non-entitled, non-materialistic kids, but between my own weakness for buying them stuff and peer pressure on them to have what their friends have i have not done a great job. these kids want a lot, and are not afraid to ask. they have a strong sense of justice about when they think they are being treated unfairly. translation: a lot of whining, begging, arguing. i wish it was a little more peaceful around here.

i want to figure out a way to channel that energy and sense of justice into caring about the larger world, not just who gets what when why around here. can we do this without being dirt poor? does seeing the man living under the sleeping bag create appreciation for our apartment, or just insecurity about ending up on the sidewalk with him? we have tried modeling a life where we don't buy too many things we don't need, and give some of our money away to help kids and schools and hungry folks. but reality is, they have a pile of toys sky-high.

their little hearts and brains are still so soft and malleable. it is just impossible for another generation to grow up and want as much stuff as the last american generations have. any ideas?