My friend said, “I was born on third base.” For those who don’t follow baseball, that means he started life just one step away from scoring – with significant advantages already in place. Then he added something that stopped me cold: “Unlike others born on third base, I realize I didn’t hit a triple to get here.”
That recognition – that his privileged position came from circumstances, not his own achievements – sparked something worth exploring.
Let me explain this baseball diamond of life:
Outside the stadium: Immigrants fleeing danger, families in deep poverty, children born into war zones – starting without even basic access to the game.
In the stands watching: Born in America with fundamental safety and opportunity.
On the bench: Safe neighborhood, stable home with at least one parent present.
First base: Middle-class family, both parents home, access to decent schools – you’ve gotten on base.
Second base: Upper-middle-class, college-educated parents, education costs covered – you’re in scoring position.
Third base: Private schools, family wealth providing a financial safety net – one good hit brings you home.
Crossed home plate: Generational wealth creating virtually unlimited opportunities.
Now here’s where it gets real: Take points away for the extra obstacles life handed you. Discrimination based on race, religion, physical challenges, sexual orientation. Subtract heavily for growing up around addiction, violence, or grinding poverty.
Where do you honestly place yourself? I landed between second and third base – stable, loving, educated parents who provided security and values, but we each inherited $500 and mostly worked our way through college.
This isn’t about guilt or resentment. It’s about clarity. Understanding where we started helps us see our journey more honestly – both the mountains we’ve climbed and the head starts we received.
At 72, this perspective feels especially important. My children are now in their forties, navigating their own complex lives. Our family dynamics have shifted dramatically over the decades. Every few years, we take behavioral assessments together – not because we’re broken, but because we want to understand each other’s evolving needs and respect each other’s different strengths.
We’re meeting again in June. I plan to ask them: “What base do you think you were born on?” And then: “Do you feel you’ve earned where you are today through your own efforts?”
Self-awareness isn’t comfortable, but it’s the foundation of genuine growth – and authentic relationships with the people who matter most
Peace,
Tim McCarthy
