The baggage of wealthy and poverty

It is a Saturday in early December. The air is cold but fresh, and the wind is brisk. The robust, well-disciplined horses stir, tapping their front hooves to the ground in anticipation. The hounds look anxious, awaiting the adventure that is to come. The men and women, dressed in traditional British riding garb, prepare themselves for the wooded, hilly terrain of the region. The bugle sounds. The hunt is on.

It is an average day in Sewickley Heights, a posh borough propped on the steep slopes flanking the Ohio River about a dozen miles northwest of Pittsburgh, Pa. The Sewickley Fox Hunt is a tradition that takes place twice weekly from late summer through early winter. Of course, there are no foxes, but several lines of scent have been laid to encourage the dogs.

This is the culture into which I, a youngster from a standard middle class family, entered four years ago as a freshman at Sewickley Academy. Now, to be fair, the academy has, over the past decade, attempted successfully to reach out to the larger Pittsburgh community and dilute its patrician image. The Sewickley Academy I know today is a much more diverse institution than it was a generation ago.

I spent most of my time there ambivalent toward the wealth around me. At times, especially on sojourns into the Heights with the golf team, I was awed by it. I felt, however, a natural American suspicion of the atmosphere of affluence. I was impressed, though, by how few flaunted their families' net worth, and I soon felt at home in Sewickley.

After graduating this past June, I was riding with a few close friends through the Heights. We were traveling through a quarter of the borough which I had not seen. It was, like the rest, marked by hilly land and winding roads, often flanked by century-old stone walls. Small creeks slice through the forest, which gives way to grassy meadows, placid ponds and impeccably manicured golf courses. Looking out the window, perhaps simply out of nostalgia, I said softly, but with meaning, "I love this place."

It was an important comment because, on the surface, it seems profoundly shallow. Was I finally taken in by the siren song of the contentment of wealth? Did I interpret the facade of tranquility that surrounded me as a true utopia? I asked myself these questions, and my answers brought me to a more complete understanding of myself and the world around me.

The first facet of my conclusion was that, just as it is unfair to stereotype the poor in America as lazy and deserving of their social position, it is equally inappropriate to characterize affluent children as spoiled and arrogant. Of course some from every group fulfill stereotypes, but such generalizations are patently false.

The second insight I gained is the most important. Both wealth and poverty carry substantial emotional and developmental baggage. The former encourages complacency, condescension and social exclusivity, whereas the latter can, particularly under the auspices of the welfare state, lead to disenchantment, underachievement and a poor work ethic.

In order to escape those predispositions, the most important variable is parents. It is the responsibility of parents to instill values that will benefit their children for the rest of their lives. How does one define values? I do not think it matters whether those values are "conservative" or "liberal," Christian or Muslim.

As divorce rates remain high and out-of-wedlock birth rates continue to rise, however, especially and tragically in inner-city communities, the institution of the family is weaker than ever. I ask neither that gay marriages be banned nor that women remain domestic. I do ask that, whether through the government or through other means such as faith-based initiatives, the responsibility of a parent to a child be reinstated as a civic value, a patriotic duty.

And when, through unfortunate circumstances, a divorce or single-mother birth occurs, those involved should seize the opportunity to redouble their efforts towards the wellbeing of their children, rather than selfishly disregarding their duty.

I have been blessed to have befriended so many fundamentally good people. Several come from wealthy backgrounds, but all were raised in families that, each in a unique way, pointed their children in the right direction. That is all that I ask. It takes much effort, but the results are extraordinary. Those children will not only lead successful lives themselves, but also touch others' lives in extraordinary ways. I know they have touched mine. Brandon McGinley is a freshman from Pittsburgh, Pa. He may be reached at bmcginle@princeton.edu.