A Classless Society

We got a new CEO last December. Naturally, I first looked to see if his ring finger was adorned. (It was.) Then, dreaming about possibilities in my life, I ran a few Internet searches to see what I could learn about him. He was already taken, but might I find someone similar with whom to enhance my life?

He's modern American royalty. He married well; his father-in-law of thirty-plus years' standing is the past president, CEO, and chairman of a Very Large American Corporation. He lives in a chic western Connecticut town, belongs to several country clubs, and—by anyone's definition—is a very classy guy.

I don't live in his world. Never have. Probably never will.

I am the [adopted] daughter of a doctor who grew up dirt-poor in rural southern Florida and rose above his beginnings to get an education and succeed in his chosen field. I grew up very sheltered, raised in a conservative evangelical Christian denomination where we kept to ourselves. My mother's friends were all members of her church. My dad's friends were electricians and auto mechanics and pharmacists. We were more comfortable at a drag race than at the golf course.

In my years as a professional pianist, I have played for many society parties. The wives or the office managers of doctors and lawyers and chiefs of commerce have employed me to make beautiful music for their holiday cocktail parties or birthday parties or wedding receptions. I would sit at the long, black grand pianos and underscore the clinking of champagne flutes. I would wonder what it would be like to wear that designer gown or that diamond ring or to be married to that handsome blue-blazer-wearing man.

And deep inside I would know that I was sitting where I belonged—support staff rather than esteemed guest. I was capable of doing something people admired and loved, but I was not the person they would ask for a coffee date the next day. They didn't know what I had accomplished in my life—with whom I had studied; how beautifully I could sew; what advanced degrees I had achieved; how kind and loyal a friend I was. They only knew that their host knew someone who knew me and knew I could play the piano beautifully and would do so for the right remuneration.

The two circles do not easily intersect. Sure, there are hugely successful people who had very humble beginnings. The prime example of this type of person is Oprah—she has worked hard and succeeded large and surrounded herself with trusted advisors and friends who have helped her stay centered.

But my sense is that, for most people, class does exist. There is a lower class and a middle class and an upper class, and various stratas within those segments. Random crossover from class to class is possible, but not probable and not customary.

By no means am I suggesting we are a caste society, but I am asserting that there are divisions, and that breaching those divisions is an unnatural act.

Do you agree? Or disagree? Or think I'm living in an earlier century?