What does it take?

I’ve often wondered, especially with my new full-time job search, what does it take to be famous? To be hired? To be noticed?

Society has always favored a select few. No matter where you go in time or space there seems to be an “elite”. Those with the position, the money, the charm to be considered “upper upper class”.

Not that I necessarily want to be one of those people, I enjoy where I’ve “come from” (as the phrase goes). I was homeschooled, born to a pair of loving parents who never have been anything more than middle class (and sometimes we were scraping the barrel of the middle class bracket).

I received a world-class education. I, for example, can quote parts of Macbeth – while some of my peers think Shakespeare is just a fun word that rhymes with beer.

I’m starting to sound snarky – I blame it on the amount of House MD I’ve been watching.

I have also been watching the AWESOME series Veronica Mars. In one episode a girl learns that she was switched at birth. Her bio-parents were uber wealthy and her other parents were not. It made me think about this whole wealth thing and what does it take.

If I had been born in another family, with other circumstances, or a different education would I be the same person? (This my friends is what’s known as the nature vs. nurture debate). Makes for good fiction, but no one really has a good answer.

A person at their core is more than the sum of their circumstances. I’ve been in numerous conversations with people who want to excuse behavior because of someone’s circumstances. Yet, I know countless of other people in the exact same set of circumstances who haven’t acted out, broken the law or needed years of professional counseling. Why? Because a person is different.

This debate was further demonstrated by my parents conversation about the differences between my sister and I. We are like the sun and the moon in most cases. Same environment, almost the same set of life events – but two different people.

I guess the long and the short of it is I don’t know. I don’t know what makes us all so different. Don’t know where a serial killer goes wrong. Don’t know why I have three square meals a day and some kid in Africa is starving tonight. But it makes for some hard pondering.

Originally written for MINDsprinting.

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