an angry mob of one

They say that in families, politics is thicker than blood, and as an adult I can see that is true of my own. But as a kid, I had no idea what party my parents belonged to, nor did I care. Like most kids, I cared more about issues than partisanship . At least until I got to college, when I first asked my parents which party they supported. And then I got confused

See, we lived in a big house in a nice suburb and went to church regularly, which could make one think we were upper middle class conservatives. But evidence suggested otherwise:

• We went to a hippie school that offered electives such as modern dance and fencing.
• We focused on issues, like the treatment of migrant workers, and how to run a successful boycott.
• My mom grew most of our vegetables in a big garden that took up half of the backyard.
• We bought bushels of other veggies at the farmers market and “put them up” for the winter.
• My grandma made most of our clothes.
• The rest were hand-me-downs passed around by various cousins.
• We had a huge compost pile in our back yard, and the ONLY compost pile in the neighborhood
• For fun in the summer, my mom would organize night crawler hunts whenever she needed to restock her worm farm.
• My mom helped start a town recycling center—and we RECYCLED—in 1976.
• My mother had an “ecology” bumper sticker—the kind where the “o” was a peace sign or a globe or something-- on her Suburban
• On family vacations we went camping.
• My dad grew bean sprouts under the kitchen sink, and made his own yogurt.
• My mom baked bread and made her own granola.

So when imagine my shock and confusion when I learned that we weren’t hippies at all. WE WERE JUST CHEAP.