I didn’t board an airplane until I was 21 years old. The opportunity simply wasn’t there. Growing up, air travel was a distant concept, something I only saw in movies or heard about from others.
My first flight was courtesy of a student organization in college, sending me to a leadership conference in Columbus, Ohio, in the summer of 2003. The experience was a mix of excitement and trepidation. As a novice flyer, I was clueless. Security procedures were a mystery, my overstuffed duffel bag wouldn’t fit in the overhead bin, and navigating the airport felt like a daunting task. Calling my family for guidance was out of the question; they had no flying experience either. I’m eternally grateful for the kind gentleman who sat beside me on that Baton Rouge to Memphis flight. He patiently explained every unfamiliar noise, easing my anxiety, and helped me locate my connecting gate.
That inaugural air travel experience (which involved an emergency landing – another story for another time!) ignited a passion for travel. Suddenly, I yearned to explore the country, the world. Destination was secondary; the desire to go was paramount.
The allure stemmed from recognizing the privilege and honor of soaring through the sky, landing in places I’d only encountered on maps or television screens—immersing myself in new experiences and connecting with diverse individuals.
It was this realization that struck me on a flight last month. During a layover in D.C., en route from Columbus (ironically) to Boston, I observed approximately 100 middle school students boarding the plane. My initial thought was, “These 7th graders are experiencing air travel at such a young age, exploring our nation’s capital, and gaining invaluable experiences and perspectives.” The inner 7th grader in me felt a pang of envy, knowing these students were ahead of the curve compared to others who lack school trips or family vacations due to financial constraints. Yet, the educator in me rejoiced that these students had this opportunity, knowing it was providing them with cultural, social, navigational, and aspirational capital (Yosso, 2005) that can contribute to their growth as people and citizens. So, half of me was frustrated that not all students have the opportunity to learn and growth through travel, while the other half of me was celebrating these students’ experiences.
This duality is a familiar space for me as a higher education professional from a working-class background—experiencing class straddling (Lubrano, 2004) and recognizing how opportunities related to social class, such as travel, can create gaps between people based on certain learning and life experiences. The stark contrast between my childhood experiences and the experiences of these middle schoolers highlighted the privilege inherent in travel. It underscored how access to these types of experiences can shape a child’s worldview and future opportunities.
Now, I am among the privileged who travel frequently. I fly at least once or twice a month for work or leisure. I cherish these opportunities—embracing both the planned and unplanned adventures that travel offers. Because I am aware of the privilege that comes with travel, with flying, with exploration, with wandering. It enables me to accumulate various forms of social class capital and to learn and grow both professionally and personally.
Therefore, I reconcile these three aspects of my identity: my working-class upbringing that kept me close to home for the first half of my life, my college experience that introduced me to air travel, and my current middle-class career and income that enable me to continue traveling.
And I challenge myself, and anyone else reading this, to become more aware of the class privileges that exist for you…starting (potentially) with your next visit to an airport. Seeing A Class Traveling can be a potent reminder of the inequities that persist in our society and the opportunities that are not equally available to all.
References
Lubrano, A. (2004). Limbo: Blue-collar roots, white-collar dreams. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
Yosso, T. (2005). Whose culture has capital? A critical race theory discussion of community cultural wealth. Race Ethnicity and Education, 8(1), 69-91.
