Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

Two weeks before the #Decommitment in August 2023, we went on a week long vacation in Western PA. We stayed in a sweet B&B then our favorite motel by the shore of Lake Erie.

Little did I know it might be my last.

I don’t have the resources for even a modest trip – I have lawsuits and living expenses to cover. My financial situation is not going to change so I’m unsure if I’ll ever go on a vacation again.

When I was growing up, vacations were feast or famine – one year to Nags Head, North Carolina and then nothing for a few years. But I had several, especially via band trips. I’ve seen some great places and appreciate the positive impact on my mental health to get that break.

According to CBS, 44 percent, plan to go on vacation this summer, Other sites cite statistics as high as 56%.

Most of the conversations around vacation focus on Americans choosing not to use PTO for travel due to our work responsibilities.

But finances and poverty are other factors. Gig workers and anyone paycheck to paycheck often have no choices. Yes, there are work arounds – visiting family, camping. day trips, among other options. In my case, I am estranged from family or those whom I value live too far away to realistically visit. I suspect that’s true of many people. Some hop on Greyhound overnight, the working class red eye, visit for 36 hours, then bus it back to Pittsburgh and return to work Monday morning.

I have friends and neighbors and acquaintances who travel a lot. Not jet setting around the world, but weekend hops, family gatherings, annual pilgrimages to the beach. They have cottages and campers for weekend getaways – that counts as a vacation – and good for them. But I don’t always want to hear about it because it reminds me that I will probably never have that. And neither will most people.

I have friends who work FT jobs with 10 PTO days that they conserve for medical appointments and household projects or emergencies. Others have side hustles or weekend jobs so having some down time from their day job doesn’t pave a path to travel. Going to the dentist and then cleaning out your basement may be necessary, but not a vacation.

I also have friends with copious PTO or who are retired or have some inherited wealth. They do not lack generosity or courtesy, but maybe not always aware of how the comments might land.

Of course, I don’t say anything to specific people because it is not about specific people – it is a society where there are haves, have nots, and have some. And I really do enjoy hearing about their adventures. But if I happen to mention my own situation, I hit the same buttons – a weekend trip isn’t a vacation, we saved for our two trips this year, we visit family not hotels. Those refrains are usually a little defensive and often a bit insensitive. Sometimes they are angry so I don’t bring it up. Sometimes I wish they would not bring it up so often.

Jealousy? Probably. Resentment? Not so much. I don’t want them not to go as to be able to go myself. There’s just something about vacations, trips, jaunts, respites and retreats that really distinguish the middle class from the working class and impoverished class. When the Big Ugly Bill cuts to Medicaid and other safety net programs take effect, that gulf will be even more obvious.

Vacation, paid time off, rest are important for everyone. I don’t take for granted sitting on my patio with coffee listening to the world around me. For six months, I could not do that so I am well aware that there are shades and nuances here. We all need time away, time to get things accomplished but also a change of scenery or perspective. We occasionally stayed in a little motel north of Erie that was lakefront, but with a cliff. They had Adirondack chairs dotting the cliffside for a gorgeous view of the sunset and the sounds of waves crashing. I’m sad I won’t have that again.

To be transparent, I was invited last year on a weekend jaunt with friends who have a camper – I declined because my anxiety was pretty high.

If I could pick a vacation right now, I would choose three days on Lake Erie. Long enough to relax, but not enough to make my anxiety overwhelming. In the lake facing hotel with good meals and a rental car as opposed to the motel.

If I could pick a vacation down the road, I would choose a sleeper car train ride to visit my childhood friend in Denver, Colorado. I like trains. I want to see new parts of America. This trip was on the agenda for last year until the agenda changed.

Listen, I’m not saying anyone should feel guilty about their trips or refrain from sharing joyful or funny anecdotes. Maybe try this – who in your circle of work and personal friends doesn’t talk about a vacation or travel. Ask yourself why. Do you know? Do you create room for them to share their stories or room for them on your travels?

When I was first out of grad school, my cousin and his wife invited me and my BFF John to share a beach house in Nags Head. My cousin and I agreed we should invite my then 85-year-old grandmother to go. She adored that space, but couldn’t afford a vacation – barely afford rent. I couldn’t afford a vacation, but did the typical maxxing of credit cards, etc. Because I hadn’t been anywhere for fun in years and I genuinely wanted to do this for my grandmother. It was a complicated trip, but one I don’t regret.

I do regret I can’t do that now. I regret the new places I might never see and the familiar ones I won’t revisit. I regret how many people I know who haven’t really ever had a vacation. I regret what’s coming in the economy much less the social-political world that will make travel even more challenging and dangerous.

There’s a certain petulance from the have some and haves when I focus an essay on this sort of topic, this straddling of worlds – the fluctuating poverty of my childhood, the relative stability of my relationship years, and the uncertain future that lies ahead. I defy the American mythic trajectory from poverty to middle-class because I fell backward again, through choices I did not make. I am poor not because I’m lazy, but because I’m living with a chronic disabling illness that has me stuck at $1500 month. And people don’t like to think about that, perhaps because they aren’t so far from it either?

Being an older Fanny Price or Charlotte Lucas is better than most unnnamed characters in those respective Austen novels, but hardly desirable. At least Aunt Charlotte Bartlett and Miss Lavish have adventures and homes. They were comfortably stuck in the sense of knowing their would be food and a bedroom somewhere, but not so comfortable that they got to make choices about calling for the carriage and trotting for a weekend in London or the seashore.

If we want economic and social reform to give everyone rest, what are we willing to sacrifice for it? I’m probably sacrificing some times with people who think I’m crying poor mouth or passive aggressively sending them a secret personalized message guise as a blog post – I’m often accused of that crime.

But come what may, I want to win my lawsuits more than I want to get my hair done or take a trip. So I can listen to the stories with a smile because I’m not impervious to how good fortune manifests in my own life.

As my friends drive or fly away, I stand there waving and wishing them well. And I wonder if they realize they are leaving me behind in more ways than one?