Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Working Class?

Recently, I received a comment on Facebook to one of my previous posts asking about the “working class” part of the title for these posts, and why that modifier. Why not just “growing up in Youngstown.”

That’s a fair question. I’m not interested in fostering class warfare by any means. And I realize that Youngstown when I was growing up was comprised of lots of people who were not “working class.” And strictly speaking, my father worked in sales and lower management positions in insurance and retail, as well as for a time, with a manufacturer who eventually moved out of the Youngstown area. If anything, he probably earned less most years than those in labor positions.

However, the physical, and social location that shaped me significantly was growing up on the lower West side, in the shadow of the mills. Most of the fathers on my street worked either in the mills or some other labor job. Likewise for many of the fathers of children in my elementary school. It was different by the time I got to Chaney, where some of the student body was from more middle class, and at the time, suburban parts of the West side. I was aware of the difference — in clothes and life experience.

This series of posts began when someone asked me what it was like growing up in working class Youngstown. It led to some thinking about the values and experiences that I think shaped many of our lives–from food to family to faith and values of hard work, self-reliance, and the love of beauty in a life that was often hard and harsh. We loved Mill Creek Park and Idora Park as oases from all the mills along the Mahoning River. We loved music, and dances, and art as things that made the hard work worth it. I don’t think we were alone in loving those things but I think they had a particular meaning for those of us who grew up in working class neighborhoods.

What has impressed me is how rich the life experiences of growing up in my working class neighborhood were. Sometimes I think “working class” or “blue collar” people are thought of as culturally impoverished. Yet my reading about these things points to “athenaeums” where workers took classes to improve themselves and their knowledge of the world. Some of the sharpest and most creative people I’ve met come from these backgrounds. In our neighborhood, many parents, though tired from work, cared about our homework, took us to libraries, and showed up at parent nights at school because they wanted us to succeed.

We may not have always traveled to far-flung places, but we appreciated a day at the lake, an overnight at Niagara Falls or staying in tourist cabins where we brought our belongings in shopping bags, and not fancy suitcases. I don’t think we thought much about what we didn’t have, but rather lived grateful for any enjoyment we could snatch from life that revolved around hard work at home or the factory.

So, while the things I write about have Youngstown as a common thread, when I write about things like field trips to Stambaugh Auditorium or neighborhood bars or family grocery stores, I’m writing out of the particular place and community within Youngstown where I grew up. I’ve had a lot of experiences since leaving the Valley and I work these days among highly educated folk. But I carry those “growing up” years in my heart and outlook on life.

Writing about it and interacting with so many who have shared these experiences has helped make more sense of life. A philosopher by the name of Kierkegaard once said that “life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” Maybe another way of saying that is that understanding where you have come from helps you know where you must go. I hope these posts, and the conversations we have around them help us all a bit in that way.

10 thoughts on “Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Working Class?

  1. I grew up in Struthers in a working class family/neighborhood. My father was a laborer for the water company. Only two families in my neighborhood would have been considered anything other than working class or blue collar. I didn’t know until I joined the military and left home at the age of 23 that there was really anything other than “working class.” I love your blog! It brings me home when I most need it! Please keep up the “working class” part. 🙂

  2. Bob
    Your use of the term resonated with me. Members on both sides of my family were working class and I have many family members who still are. Like you I never knew friends and classmates who were not working class in my early years. My roots grounded me and gave me many life skills for the future education I pursued.
    Thanks for all your posts

  3. Thank you I love reading your posts, as I as well grew up on the lower west side off of Steel street. It was a wonderful time to be a kid. My parents were immigrants, and my father worked in the mill. I remember as a child you could do all your shopping right on Steel street, back then not as many people drove. Thanks again

  4. I love reading these posts. They always take me back and remind me of things I hadn’t thought about in ages. I remember going to my first wedding here in California and wondering where the cookie table was. I actually had no idea that is was a regional/ cultural thing. The same for the first time I made Wedding Soup. I couldn’t believe that people didn’t know what it was, had in fact never heard of it. My answer was always “just taste it”. Now I’m asked to make it for holidays when the family will all be there. I love sharing some of the traditions that I always took for granted that everyone knew and did. My grandfather on my mother’s side was the first generation of his family to be born in America. He worked in a coal mine in Pennsylvania I think. I’m only guessing as to where because I know he grew up in (Connesville.)?sp
    Your posts always bring me back to a simpler time, a happier time for the world. Keep posting, I look forward to reading.

  5. Because of the government shutdown I recently was thinking of how it was when the mills were on strike. That’s when our neighborhood started having picnics as there was only one man who was white collar.
    I realized the difference in mindset when I moved to Hudson. Our Youngstown church was full of volunteers who were happy to take directions. The Hudson church had many leaders looking for volunteers.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.