Reflections on The Golden Girls

I've been binge watching The Golden Girls and realizing a few things as I do:

1) It was pretty revolutionary as a representation of not only women's sexuality (Heteronormative as it was, it was one of the only examples of "women may actually be sexual beings" I ever came across as a kid -- and promptly was told not to watch the show as it was deemed inappropriate because "sleeping with" other people was discussed.).

2) At the time of filming, Sophia (as a character) was in her 80's, Dorothy had "been raised during the Great Depression" by Sophia, and while Blanche always says she is much younger, we're lead to believe she is similar in age to both Dorothy and Rose. So, all three were raised during the Depression. And Sophia mentions she'd lived through two World Wars as well. Her raising three kids amidst the Depression is hailed as a serious achievement at one point in the show.

3) There are a couple of interesting flash-back scenes I just saw, including one with Dorothy as a young (grown) woman calling on her mother to pick her and her father up for a party, where I was reminded of how my parents grew up (not like in the scene, just some things that reminded me of their stories). Another of Rose talking to her deceased and beloved (and imperfect) spouse, Charlie on her birthday in St. Olaf, her hometown in Minnesota, about how she is contemplating a move to Miami, but that she is absolutely going to sell the house of memories that are too powerful to stay. That last one reminded me of how I did say goodbye to my dad in the room his hospice bed had been in and ended with a similar notion of "I know you'll be with me wherever I go." I never thought of myself as someone who'd speak out loud to "ghosts." Life is full of surprises.

4) This "lived through the Depression" part of things really stands out to me, because it left an indelible mark on how my parents saw the world and moved about within it. My father was dedicated to and focused on our education in a way only a child of immigrants who was raised in poverty (and got out through education and a fair amount of luck) could be. I switched schools four times in my elementary years to get "the best possible education." I only ever lived in one house til I left for college. My mother saved our breadcrumbs for meatloaf, washed out sandwich bags long before reusing was chic, had us use breadbags in our winter boots when they got holes in them or leaked (my winter clothes were always hand-me-downs or from a thrift shop, so by the time I got them, my boots usually had leaks), bought generic brands and generally shopped sales-only, saved wrapping paper and envelopes. For years, I was convinced her thrift alone is what got me and my brother through our first college degrees. Dad talked about catsup sandwiches, Mom washed her hair with ivory flakes and vinegar until Pert and Prell became a thing. They wrote with fountain pens. Cartridge pens came later. Some advances were embraced by them, but most were seen as unnecessary. We were the last family I knew to get a VCR, a Microwave, a CD player of any sort (my friends had to make me mix tapes well after everyone else used CDs!). What was the point of it? The other thing worked just fine, thank you.

So, I'm thinking of the whole "surviving the Depression" part here. And reflecting on which parallels can be draw here to those of us who will similarly "survive COVID-19." My father always said, "The trouble with parallels is they never meet," so, realizing the comparisons will not all be entirely helpful, I'm choosing to sally forth anyway.

My folks came up in the world during one of the worst economic situation our nation has ever seen, something my four immigrant great-grandparents never anticipated happening when they arrived here in the US with little beyond their dreams of a "better life." My dad's parents had been living the high life, dancing at the cotton club, beautiful clothes, all the good things you could have and then the Depression came and Grandpa lost his job. He ended up finding a position turning off other people's electricity at one point. My mom's dad had a steady job with GE and was doing well enough through the days when my dad's family was struggling to keep an apartment with a shared bathroom and a bed for the kids to share. Just the same, everyone knew nothing was a sure thing work-wise, so my mom's family was still careful not to be wasteful. They had nice GE products because there was an employee discount, but the Depression is part of why my grandmother pushed all four kids to get college degrees in fields they could surely get work from. And that's part of why education was also important to my mother. All those kids went to the state university and three became teachers. In fact, both my parents became teachers, a humble, challenging, steady, and only modestly rewarding work. They "made it," got married, got a house, raised two kids who managed to also get married, get houses for their families, plenty of grandkids. But the Depression Mentality was/is always a part of the structure of their thinking. Scarcity is assumed. Nothing wasted, everything "saved for a rainy day," "making do" with what we had instead of replacing things at the first sign of wear. Something my mother will always ask when a discussion of a new anything-at-all comes up. "Can't it be fixed? Well, is it really that badly worn out? Can part of it still work or be used for something else?" Make do, is not an entirely bad thing to grow up with, in retrospect at least. Especially now. I feel I have a special skill, maybe even a superpower in this time.

And there's another side, the flip-side of the Mentality coin, born out of this era. Resilience. Another special skill or superpower those who lived through The Great Depression have. At least those who survived it. I have it, and I choose to cultivate with mindset strategies like Mindfulness and Affirmations and Gratitude and Journaling. It is part of what I teach my childbirth education students and wellness clients.

And I think "Make Do" and Resilience are also two special skills The Golden Girls had, many of my older Aunts and Great Aunts had, several of my Grandparents had, my dad had, my mom has. "Que sera, sera," sings my mother every time I see or speak with her for the past three years or so. "Whatever will be, will be," she says as she just rolls with the strange happenings in her life of moving from her home to an assisted living facility, then to memory care, then being in near total "lock down" due to COVID for five months. She makes do. She counts her blessings. She knows through sheer grit and determination there will be a way through even whatever seems impossible. As bleak as the outcome seems, there is no point in giving up hope. Maybe tomorrow, something will be different, and maybe that "different" will also be better. And if it's not, chances are you've already lived through worse. My mom literally climbed huge mountains in her life. She always told me the only way she was able to do it is by telling herself, "Just one more step. Just one more step." with each step as she was impossibly tired. You save your sandwich bags and if they run out, you use the breadbags! You've got this. No matter how hard, you got this.

I think some of us are stuck in "survive" mode right now, as we face the inevitable changes, unknown as they are in many ways, the upcoming start of the academic year will bring. Some of us find the ways we can "thrive" and try to dwell in that energy. Some of us are vacillating between the two or existing in the borderlands between them. Wherever we are, it is a valid place to be in this weird moment in time. It isn't the first weird moment in time, I presume it won't be the last. And I think it is probably ok that some days we may feel our legs are too heavy for the next step, next breath is too much of a struggle, because I suspect that our forebearers had these feelings some days, many days as they strove to survived the other Hard Times.

I don't know what this is going to be like for any of us. I do know some of us will likely get sick. I do know I am trying my darnedest to keep my family well and keep our potential exposures minimal. I can control only what I can control. I do my part and the rest is "Que sera, sera."

I wish everyone well as we enter this academic year. The Great Depression was a singular event with lasting consequences. Every single COVID positive case (symptomatic or not) is a singular event with lasting consequences, the spread of cases is what lead to this staggering pandemic. And, unlike our forebearers, we have a golden opportunity to improve our situation. We can limit the number of lasting consequences in our weird time by working together to prevent the spread of cases. Please do what you can to respect social distancing and keep up on hand hygiene and wearing masks, without judgement, with kindness and compassion. Let's be kind to each other as we enter this new phase, the back-to-school phase of COVID. Be safe, be well. You got this.