Shelby here: Along with starting the new phase of ATF as we expand to support the organizations we love, I’m also adding more friends to the team! Aimée’s friend, Kayla, asked Aimée if she thought I’d be interested in having her writing for me and of course I, resoundingly, said YES! I want as many voices that want to be here. Kayla won’t be a daily writer like myself, Sydney, or Aimée, but whenever she gets the itch to write something, I’ll feature it. Everyone, welcome Kayla! Aimée has prepared an introduction of her friend, so I’ll let her take the proverbial floor here:
Aimée here! I’m so excited to tell y’all that today’s piece was written by none other than my lovely friend Kayla! Kayla and I have known each other since we were two years old. We grew up three streets apart from each other and have been super close ever since we were the only two girls in our 8th grade Language Arts class (well, there was also that girl Jennifer, but she was kinda sketch).
Even though she’s a whopping eight months younger than I am, I honestly consider Kayla to be a role model of mine. She’s one of the most independent, competent, and inspiring people I know, and I feel so blessed to have her in my life. And now, you all get to be blessed by her writing (you’re welcome)! She’ll pop in from time to time to share her thoughts, her perspectives, and maybe even some of her funniest stories.
Without further ado...A Trust Fund proudly presents: Kayla’s Trust Fund.
by Kayla
Privilege. It is a word that is frequently heard in today's world, especially in the age of social media. Whether it be white privilege, male privilege, social privilege, the list goes on and on. It most often has a negative connotation associated with it, as practices and ideas that were once considered “acceptable” slowly become outdated and generally rejected by society. As the world becomes more open to different cultures, races, genders, religions, sexual orientations, etc., the powerful rhetoric used globally in the media to demand equality is very apparent.
Even to this day, the first word that comes to mind when I hear “trust fund” is privilege. I mean, one must be pretty privileged to have assets sitting aside for a rainy day, right? If I mentioned to a friend that I had a trust fund, would that be the first thought that came to their mind as well? As someone who did have a trust fund, I still find myself asking these questions. The fact that I grew up with a trust fund is something that I rarely share because regardless of how or why I had a trust fund, it makes no difference to many people. It is just considered another privilege (besides being white) that many others will not ever know. However, as I look back on my life at the ripe old age of 25, I am more cognizant than ever of how the events that led to my trust fund shaped my life.
It is easy to categorize people by their outward façade without ever looking deeper. For me, I grew up in Cypress, TX in an upper middle-class neighborhood with white parents who both had college degrees. My dad worked in finance for an oil company and my mom was a buyer for Neiman Marcus before becoming a stay-at-home mom. I was able to attend summer camps, participate in swim team, ride horses, go on family vacations, and do many other things that a lot of kids aren’t fortunate enough to do. I was the epitome of a privileged white child. Like most kids, I also idolized my parents. My dad was my hero and my mom was the ultimate super mom. She drove me to all my horseback riding lessons, participated in the PTA at school, volunteered at swim meets, hosted book club meetings, sang in the church choir….. Honestly, I could go on forever. As a young child, I was never aware that she was different from any other moms because all I ever saw was a hard working, compassionate, highly organized, Type A (trust me, she was always right) woman with a smile that could be seen from a mile away.
The word cancer was never taboo in our household, but the severity of it was not easily understood at such a young age. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer before my sister and I were born and we were exposed to everything that came with it our entire lives. From attending chemo treatments to picking out wigs, none of it was ever out of the ordinary but rather a part of everyday life. She never let her battle with cancer get in the way of her job as a mother and I can definitely say that I was 100% a momma’s girl. We spent many days shopping for clothes, going to doctor’s appointments, taking road trips, and watching the king Emeril Lagasse on Food Network… In fact, the only time I can remember staying up past my bedtime was when we were trying to win a trip to see “Emeril Live” and we needed to fill out as many online submission forms as possible (spoiler alert, we didn’t win). Up until I was about eight or nine, everything seemed to be completely normal and life was care-free; however, as I got older, her health took a serious decline.
I don’t know if my parents just recognized that I was maturing so they relayed more information to me, or if the rose-colored glasses of childhood were wearing off, but at about ten I began to take more notice of her disease. There were more doctor’s appointments, hospital visits, daily medications to take...the list goes on and on. We couldn’t go to the mall anymore without her having to stop and rest or getting sick in the bathroom. She had a permanent port installed for medication drips and could no longer get around without a motorized scooter. The burden that she bore for so long was finally trickling down to me. One day, she took me to IHOP for breakfast because we had a day off at school. I remember thinking we were going to have an amazing girls’ day, and the best part was my sister was not invited. Just as we started enjoying our pancakes, she looked me in the eye and casually said without an ounce of hesitation, “I am going to die.” Just like that. No pause. No wavering in her voice. And to this day, it is the only thing I wish she had gotten wrong. 85468
The last few months of her life are almost a blur in my mind. At first, she was just unable to do some activities with me, like watching a horseback riding lesson. It quickly evolved into no longer being able to drive, completely losing her appetite, and by the time she was placed in hospice care, she was not able to easily walk. Not being able to walk turned into not being able to eat, talk, or breathe on her own. My mom, whose personality was larger than life, slowly began to disappear before my eyes. On September 24, 2006 she lost her 14-year battle with breast cancer. My best friend and my biggest role model was gone.
Every day I find myself thinking of something I wish I could tell her. She wasn’t able to see me in my first band concert, become Vice President of my FFA (Future Farmers of America) chapter, graduate Cum Laude at Texas A&M, move to Dallas and start my first job, get married to my college sweetheart, or buy my first house. She will never get to meet her future grandkids (we’ve got 5 more years if my husband gets his way) or see my sister get married; however, before she passed away she left my sister and I each a gift: a trust fund. One of her final actions to ensure that we were taken care of. A gift to be used for something important and significant.
As I sit here in my house and type this, I can’t help but feel grateful. Because of her gift, my husband and I were able to buy our first home at 23. We were able to plant our roots in a wonderful Fort Worth suburb and start planning for future kids. Unfortunately, the gratitude is met with sadness as I think back on life events I wish she could have seen. During some of the most important years of my life, she was not there. I am no longer able to hear her laugh, listen to her sing, or watch her eat 10 pieces of bubble gum in 5 minutes. I watch my friends with their moms and find myself wishing I could see her again for one more day.
Especially with the current events that are going on today, I find myself unsure of my emotions and at odds with myself. I am very grateful for the gift I have been given, but at the same time, I feel incredibly guilty that I have received a privilege that others have not. That gratitude and guilt is also met with sadness as I reflect on the painful moments that I had to endure to ultimately receive my trust fund. Would I give it all up just to spend another day or afternoon with my mom? Absolutely. It is a dream I will always have, even if I know it will never come true.
Losing my mom at such a young age was devastating, but it was the catalyst that led me to becoming the woman I am today. It is also the event that increased my privilege. In my case, having privilege does not mean that I have not faced hardships or suffered loss. Every single day I struggle with the loss of my mom, but unlike many others, the color of my skin or my sexual orientation has not contributed to the challenges I have faced. That is the privilege I will always possess.
Shit We’re Loving: WATCH
Kayla’s Pick: Little Fires Everywhere
This past month I have done a lot of soul searching regarding my white privilege and it all started while binge-watching Little Fires Everywhere on Hulu. Little Fires Everywhere is a Hulu miniseries based on the 2017 novel by Celeste Ng. In 8 one-hour episodes, it took me on an emotional rollercoaster as it tackled many issues that are increasingly relevant in our society today. On the forefront of those issues is white privilege and racism as it follows the story of Elena, a middle-class white suburban mother, whose “picture-perfect” life unravels when Mia, an enigmatic artist and single mother, moves into her rental house.
The story, which is set in Shaker Heights, OH, left me on the edge of my seat even when things got uncomfortable (and trust me, it did get uncomfortable); however, in an effort to avoid any spoilers, I won’t go into too much detail. What I can say is that, as someone who has white privilege I often found myself angry with the show as I felt it stereotyped white Americans and placed a negative light on white families. I often felt like the writers had a goal of making all the white characters seem racist or oblivious to political correctness...Then it hit me… The only reason I felt that way is because I am white. In my mind, I was trying to defend the white characters - possibly as a way to validate to myself that I’m not racist? Trust me, this show caused me to do a lot of soul searching! Yet, the beauty of this show is that it can be perceived in many different ways based on your background. Once I realized that, it allowed me to view all the characters from different perspectives and when I looked deeper it became very clear that they are all villains and heroes at different points. In a similar fashion to “Marriage Story” (which if you haven’t watched you should definitely add it to your list!), the point of view constantly changes with all characters being painted in a positive and negative light.
So, if you’re up to braving the uncomfortable and pondering deep societal issues, this show is for you! As you watch the show I will leave you with a few thoughts/tips to contemplate: 1) If you are uncomfortable with the portrayal of a character, why? 2) How does your background impact the way you view the themes/characters in the story? 3) Would you feel differently if the roles were reversed?
Also, a big thanks to the ATF girls who let me guest write this week! As someone who struggles with a lot of self-doubt, putting my writing out for others to criticize gave me major anxiety. It is the reason “start a blog” has yet to make it off my bucket list; however I hope my own reflection on my privilege is relatable and allows you to become more comfortable with the idea of being uncomfortable!
^^ We loved having you, Kayla! 💖
Show Your Support: The Okra Project
Each day this month we’re featuring the lovely organization, The Okra Project, which supports the Black Trans community by bringing homecooked meals and resources to Black Trans People wherever they can reach them. A Trust Fund has already donated $90, enough for one whole session (includes chef’s pay and groceries) with an Okra Project chef, and we encourage you to share their story and help support them too!
Here’s a quick breakdown, directly from their website, of donations and how your giving helps:
18 people could donate $5
9 people could donate $10
6 people could donate $15
3 people could donate $30
1 super generous human could donate $90
You can click that cute button below that will take you directly to their PayPal account where you can donate to them.
Daily Intention
Today I will…
Here’s some nifty buttons for you to press, enjoy: