This post is written by Emily Taylor, Associate Professor of English & Director of Women's & Gender Studies Program at Presbyterian College and author of Hot Feminism: Letters from South Carolina.
The parental joy of the back to school season is sweeping through the state, starting at the end of July with the districts on modified year-round schedules, and continuing this week as Greenville County Schools and many others are back in session. On the surface, all the posts and celebrations could be chalked up to tired parents ready to get the kids out of the house, but for many families, the relief is economic.
During the summer months, the return to full-time care puts most families on the hook for childcare costs that might rival mortgage payments. In Greenville, you could easily spend $2000 a month or more per child on summer camps. The mental load of planning for camps also takes a toll: I started planning for this summer in November of last year, when the first camp signups opened. Trying to balance the interests of our kids, the most affordable options, the days we could both take off for vacation, not to mention worrying about the “summer slide” in addition to trying to do our jobs can make summertime stressful. And we’re middle class—imagine the calculus for working class families.
If we lived in Minnesota, we’d have access to a child tax credit to offset the costs of care, but South Carolina offers very little support for working families. Like Tim Walz, I grew up in Nebraska (6th-12th grades), and reading about his political career I was reminded of growing up in the 1990s in a Nebraska governed by Democrat Ben Nelson (Nelson and Walz are friends). We moved to Bellevue, Nebraska in 1990 from Germany, my father’s last posting in the Air Force to Offutt Air Force Base outside of Omaha. Our Southern family in Atlanta was convinced the weather was too extreme in that plains state, but the Omaha area was a great place to grow up—we went to well-funded schools and lived in neighborhoods with sidewalks. Government officials and people in the community were civic-minded, there was a sense that we had to survive these blizzards and tornadoes together.
Moving back to the South in 2012, my horror at the inequalities in this state and region is often overtaken by my Midwestern sense of practicality. Funding prisons and not schools doesn’t make any sense, down the line. Giving short-term tax refunds instead of saving for a rainy day might make politicians look appropriately anti-tax right now but then what do we do when we need more funds? Refusing to fully fund the state university system means people will be saddled with debt many years of their working lives, affecting not just them but their children as well.
Of course I know that our South Carolina politicians think they’re being very practical, but let’s be honest: their anti-government rejection of funding a social safety net benefits a small sliver of South Carolina society. They are not civically minded, they don’t about our communities as a whole, but they do care about making sure their rich, white friends stay rich.
I love what Walz is bringing to the presidential ticket and the national stage. The Internet tells us he’s bringing dad energy, and that’s true. The memes are picking up a form of masculinity that is about being a caregiver—the jokes that Walz is a Midwestern dad that will slip you some gas money or help you with a renovation project point to his ethical compass of care. His record shows us that he extends this care in his policies, and it is clear in Minnesota that government is working for the people, with child tax credits to offset the costs of raising the next generation, and with free tuition to state universities if your family income is below a certain threshold. When I imagine what these kinds of policies could do for South Carolina families, and for our state more broadly, I feel sad that we are wasting our moment to improve our communities now and in the future.
Because the South has always had much more income inequality than the Midwest, class anxiety fuels conspicuous consumption, where flashing new cars and having fancy houses and paying for elite summer camps is a mark of social worth. In the Midwest, wearing a new outfit might mean an extended explanation of finding a great sale and using an extra discount, a subtle apology for privilege. Elevating Walz to the national stage will hopefully inspire us to ask some questions about this Southern worship of our wealthy authoritarian leaders and get us talking about a government that serves the needs of the people, that helps us to care for our children, our poor, our elderly, so that we have healthy communities. The rich can only lock themselves away in their gated subdivisions and private schools for so long before the bottom drops out for them, too.
Let’s start asking our South Carolina leaders how their ideologies make any sense for our communities. Our children and families deserve so much better.
I, too, moved to Nebraska from Germany for 9th and 10th grade at Papillion LV HS. I had lived there in the early 70's, as well, for 5th grade.
That region does take public education seriously, and they put their money where their mouth is.
Here in S.C., I feel the remnants of history are part of the social contract: A huge gulf between rich and poor, the educated and those less fortunate. Lack of opportunity for social mobility ensures a large, cheap labor source.
My childhood home was on a dirt road, no sidewalks. An apple orchard was across the street. I invited my dear friend, Sue to my sled riding party. I knew she had a toboggan. Our kiss in the snow that night sealed the deal. In a week we celebrate our 56th wedding anni. She was my prom date too.