Comments by "Kimberly C" (@kimberlyc84) on "Van Life: Why have people become so mean and rude these days?" video.

  1. My mother was raised in the projects of Alton Park, Chattanooga. It was a meager existence, at best. She gave up a full nursing scholarship to Tuskegee to marry my dad. They moved to New York in '64 right after graduating HS. My mom went into banking and my dad worked on the Long Island RailRoad. They saved their money and purchased a 1932 Cape Cod fixer upper in 1975. Every last stick of furniture, appliances, cars, and clothing was either re re gifted, dumpster doven, or handed down. When I got out on my own, everything was no less than 3rd hand. For 21 yrs, I raised our children on thrifted, consigned and lost & found items. As my mom had taught me: Just because times are bad doesn't mean you have to look hopeless. When I left an increasingly abusive situation with just my business clothes and a few jeans, the kids, their suitcases & a car, you bet your last buck I made sure haircuts were gotten (via barter), hair was done (via students at the beauty college), clothes were mended and clean. I was gifted everything to get us back on our feet. Beds still in plastic, a TV that clearly needed to be put out of its misery but that still fired up to watch VHS tapes, cable wasn't an option for my wallet), well-worn couch & chair, part of a table. My crockpot worked overtime creating unique creations to keep the free potatoes from the bottom of the food pantry bin from going to waste. My little Toyota didn't hold a candle to the principal and teachers' Lexuses, Hummers, Infinitis & and Mercedes, but you can bet your bottom buck, I kept those door dings to a minimum. Just because I couldn't afford their payments didn't give me an excuse to treat my little humble bootscooter like nothing. No one knew we were homeless for a month until I finally found an affordable rental. As much as "Name brand" hasn't meant anything to me since I was a teen (Ooh la la...Sasoon!), I remember the desire to be accepted by my teenager peers. I remember mom scraping together enough to get me a pair of cowgirl boots when the craze came around. Dad had found a very outdated Walkman turned in at a station and unclaimed for a month. It didn't matter that I still ate lunch alone, but for at least one semester, I wasn't teased for wearing the same shoes every day and I felt like I belonged. I've been at my elementary school for 19 yrs. I know who the students are that are registered as homeless. I have called more than one or two parents at a time throughout the years to give them very nice items that my (now grown) kids have outgrown but still have somewhat of an 'it' factor to a kid. Every parent wants their kid to have good friends and just not be picked on. As adults, we've lived through it. We know (or at least we should) what's really important. I've heard my school nurse comment, "Aren't they supposed to be homeless? She's driving a BMW"😮 It's like these people never had better times. Every Christmas, on YouTube, I watch a movie with Tess Harper called "A Christmas Wish." There are about a dozen and a half movies w the same title, so I always have to put in "Tess Harper" (who is one of my most favorite actresses anyway). It focuses on an out-of-work mother who was abandoned by her husband who packs up her daughter, stepson (abandoned by the husband) and toddler they head out to look for work (I take it to avoid being evicted from the trailer they were living in). The car she's in is a Cadillac. It's the only thing they have. The kids are clean and well behaved. Being able to finally find a motel in a little town where she's able to find a job as a waitress. I know, it's one of those feel good movies (there is a sad part, an "I knew it moment" and a "Wow! Didn't see that coming moment, too." But I was just thinking how someone could easily say, "how is she homeless? She's in a Caddy?" As fictitious as the storyline is, it's reflective of the thought pattern. I could just imagine somebody saying, "They should have put her in a beat-up Yugo... that's more believable." But, no, actually, it's not. If I still had the Chrysler Pacifica that blew up on us when I made my Exodus, I might have had a better vehicle & people may not have believed me, but we would have still been homeless. You never know someone's story. Just because someone doesn't look like what they've gone through or what they're going through doesn't dismiss the fact that they may still be going "through it." That's my 2 cents about that Thanks for the opportunity to voice my thoughts. P.S. You've got the RIGHT hat on for this one!! Tell it like it T. I. Izzzz!!😎 🚗☁️☁️
    1
  2. Ok. First, be honest... how many of us at 7:00 said it: "They can't handle the TRUTH!" I know I did👊🏾 My daughter has absolutely gorgeous nails. Me on the other hand, I am like Fred Flintstonette. But when I was younger, my nails were the envy of all my friends. They were natural, they were long, I kept them tapered and a little square at the tip, I used white out to give myself a French manicure and many of my so called friends were jealous. My aunt was mixed race. My grandmother was Blackfoot Cherokee, and my grandfather was Caucasian and black. Both my grandmother and my aunt had hair that usually came down to their waist. My aunt would deliberately tie her hair up and bunch it under so that it wasn't so long. My hair can grow down to my behind if I wanted to. But the chemo made me realize that I am not my hair. I have had people ask me, when I did have longer hair, where I got my wig from. I chose not to answer them. My daughter's hair is very thick, natural, and very wavy. When the chemo took her hair out and it started to grow back, people often asked her when it had all grown back where she got her wig from. It takes a special kind of stupid to even ask that kind of question. Comments like this about the nails makes me wonder if people actually believe that I go to Starbucks every morning for my homemade mochacocoalatte just because I choose to put it in a reusable Starbucks cup. It would be like saying I don't have a right to have anything nice just because I get my powdered coffee from a food pantry. With reference to the integrity, the advent of people being able to bully other people behind a keyboard has just gone beyond out of control. People post whatever they want, they are nasty, they are vindictive, they hold silent and private grudges that no one else knows about. And then when people can't read their minds, they have the nerve to get outright angry. It has been said from times of old...... It is better to be silent and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt. It has also been said to entertain not a fool in their folly. Some people just have absolutely nothing better to do than to open their mouth and remove all doubt. 🤔
    1