Fine print and bootstraps

By David Simmons

My late father said if somebody promises you something for free, read the fine print.

– Hillary Clinton

On the same day that the front-running US Democratic presidential hopeful cited conservative Republican Hugh Rodham to put down her rival Bernie Sanders’ campaign plank of free college tuition, about a dozen members of my wife’s family showed up at our house to perform a traditional Thai New Year water-bathing ritual for me, and for me alone. This consisted of me sitting in a chair on our front patio, while they all took turns pouring flower-scented water on to my hands and feet, amid prayers for my good health.

They did this for free.

A lot of Westerners who have married into Thai families have found themselves treated like an ATM. I’ve helped my wife’s family from time to time; why wouldn’t I? Their needs have always been modest, and I can afford it. They have also been there for me when I’ve been sick, or we needed help with a move, or whatever. But even if they didn’t, I’d back them up if they needed it. I don’t believe in fine print.

It has been like that for me from my earliest memories. I have plenty of flaws, and I’ve changed belief systems several times over the decades, but I’ve always been clear-eyed that “pull yourself up by your own bootstraps” is logical nonsense, a defiance of the law of social gravity. Okay, I’ve worked for a living since I was seventeen. Okay, I’ve never been on government welfare. I paid my own way through university.

But I had the opportunity to do all those things. I had the good fortune of being born to parents who, though not well off, sacrificed to ensure I got the best health care during my frequent childhood illnesses, who supported me in my interests even though they changed every other week, who took me seriously when I was older and shifted from their belief systems, and encouraged my inquiring mind even when it led me to debate with them.

I had the opportunity to spend a decade and a half floundering through the postsecondary education system, shifting from sciences to arts, dropping out for years to travel aimlessly, until I finally found a career I could live with, and that could live with me. I had the opportunity to do that because my young adult years were the 1970s, that brief period when tuition was affordable and good-paying unionized summer jobs were plentiful.

Sure, I’ve been inordinately fortunate all my life. But I don’t believe there is anyone on Earth who can’t point to similar examples of good fortune, even if they are far fewer in number.

The only fine print I see is that the bootstrap brigade are wilfully dismissive of their own luck, of the many people who helped them when they needed it, picked them up when they were down, without expecting anything in return. They use their own ignorance as an excuse to tread on the already downtrodden.

If my heart were as big as it should be, I would feel sorry for them.

Sawatdee Songkran.