Renny Christopher once wrote that class is essentially invisible until we stand at the very point of crossing class borders.

I thought of this as I read this account of class as lived experience, from a young person home on spring break.

I can’t think of anything since Sennet and Cobb’s The Hidden Injuries of Class that has sought to capture the experiences of the parents of the upwardly-mobile, but it would seem that there are indeed stories to be told, even when such stories are lived as tales of personal pain and resentment.