Hello. My name is Chab Rundridge III. In 1924 my grandfather founded a company that sold child-sized forklifts to open-minded countries. Through hard work, a lot of skipped lunch breaks, and just a little bit of luck, I got accepted to Yale University, where I earned the Rundridge Award for Excellence. I earnestly believe that every American has a shot at the top. Rich, poor, employed, unhoused, we’re all the same in the end. In a time of so much discontent, it’s easy to blame the rich, or the poor, or the bumbling middle class, but we’re better than that. This message goes out to all my poor brothers and sisters who feel like they’ve been left behind. Friends, why can’t we all just get along?

Throughout history, the greatest threat to the social order has been class warfare. I say to hell with class! I don’t care who you are or how much your department made last quarter; if you’re a decent human being then you’re A-okay in my book. We’re not so different. You ever go hunting for rabbits? I once slit a moose’s throat on my dad’s 200-acre slaughter property in Siberia. You like going to the zoo? I visit Prince Andrew’s People Ranch three times a year! You’re watching elephants gobble down bananas, and I’m watching a Scot and a Welshman fight to death in a steel cage. Both of us are having a jolly time with our families. 

And listen, I get it. It’s tough to be a have-not in a world with so many haves. My uncle was once snubbed for Forbes Magazine’s 60 Under 60 Magnates To Watch list. It hurts to see other people succeed, but he never considered forcing Forbes Magazine to distribute their accolades more equitably. And you shouldn’t consider forcing the wealthy to distribute wealth more equitably. You can’t always get what you want, or even what you need. But you can always get something, most of the time. And that’s enough.

Class warfare doesn’t help anybody; dialogue is the way forward. That’s why every day I drive around New Haven in a Porsche that has the engine in the back and the trunk in the front. I shout out the window, “Ho, my fellow man! Good tidings to ye! My life is no more important than yours. We are all one!” I enter dialogue with the unhoused, and ask, “Are you a student here too?” They say no, but I explain that they’re wrong. We’re all students in a class called life. And folks, in life you don’t get recess. 

My father always told me, “What a poor man needs more than soup is a job.” Reader, I won’t be giving you soup. I also won’t be giving you a job, but I encourage you to find one. We’d all be a lot happier if we just find a way to get along. Your material conditions won’t change, but your attitude will. And friends, that’s good enough in my book.

—J. Wickline