I hear my classmates complaining about their parents not letting them have the newest pair of shoes or not giving them money to go out and get food again. They say, “my life sucks…I can’t wait to do whatever I want in college.” I get it, I really do. I admittedly tend to focus on how my life could be better too.

     How many times do we genuinely stop and think about how privileged our lives are? It’s cliche to say but cliches have some sort of truth to them. It is so easy to dream about what if our life was better.

     Think about all the people who did something for you that probably had almost no impact on their lives but exponentially made yours better. Think about the actions that made your life even a tiny bit better. 

     I was not planned. My dad got deployed for a year not long after I was born while my mom was finishing school. The first daycare I experienced was Allen Hospital’s employee child care.It was a privilege the hospital my parents worked at had employee daycare. Other minor stories like that grew to be a part of my privileged and sheltered life. 

     Calling the All Saints daycare to see if Miss Tina would open early for us because both my parents had to be at the hospital before six, then staying after school until 10 or later. Sometimes my parents had to ask my preschool teacher, Mrs. Mackenburg, if she could watch me overnight as my parents could not get off work. I remember her making Mac and Cheese for me and going to Mr. Movies to rent Princess Natasha. 

     Miss Martha, a lunch lady at All Saints, would always allow me to get more than just doubles. I would follow around the janitor, Mr. John, while he cleaned because no other kids in my grade went to daycare. He had a pet chicken named Obama that I would feed. 

      Again, none of those memories, or the ones that followed after elementary, school really sound like privilege but they are. They also helped me be thankful for the small things from a young age. I was privileged to grow up in a community that cared. I am privileged enough to attend a Catholic school system with such an amazing support system.

      Some would say none of those stories are those of privilege. My parents just worked hard and the teachers just did their job. Except not everyone has teachers who are willing to help that much. Nobody had to help my family but they chose to. 

     With the way this year has gone, everyone has someone to thank. The administration and teachers have worked tirelessly to get us back to some sort of normalcy. They could have decided just to do all online and cancel everything but they didn’t. They chose to help make our year be the best that it can be considering what is going on with the world. 

     Thank your own Miss Tina, Mrs. Mackenburg, Miss Martha, and Mr. Johns. Be a little more grateful and you’ll realize how wonderful the world can be.