I remember when. . .

my parents told me stories about having no money when they were growing up

stores were closed on Sundays

I played in the backyard and hid in the laundry that was drying on the clothes line

I wore two and sometimes three inch heels and suits to the office. I had a purse to match each outfit.

hierarchical structures ruled business and almost every decision was made by superiors

jobs were highly structured and teams didn’t exist

workers waited to be told what to do

the boss was almost always called Mr.

people referred to elders as Mr., Mrs., or Miss

Ms. was not yet in our lexicon

I knew all my neighbors

families owned one car and some didn’t own one at all

we only had one television

there were no dishwashers

very few people had microwave ovens

there were very few fast food restaurants

we cooked when we were hungry

grocery stores weren’t “mega-stores" and Benny, who owned the neighborhood market, would give me credit when I was short


I went to the “dime-store” with my mom to purchase fabric from the bolts that stood up in colorful displays

work-life balance was an unfamiliar term

a full-time job meant 40 hours a week; not 24/7

sanitation workers walked behind the truck, picking up bags of trash left on the curb, hurling them into the back of the truck

highways were littered with bottles, wrappers and cans before Lady Bird Johnson’s America’s Beautification Campaign

there was no recycling

I could walk on the California shores and find seashells

frogs were plentiful and catching pollywogs was an activity that took all day

it was safe to walk at night by myself

methanphedime was a word very few people understood and heroine was considered the hardest drug on the black market

the older generation was fearful we were losing our cultural identity

I remember when my grandparents said my generation was spoiled
people dressed for church and the women wore hats

That’s kind of like what it’s like in my village…