A quite interesting essay by philosopher Duncan Pritchard (UC Irvine); some excerpts:

I grew up in what was once the industrial heartlands of England, in the Midlands city of Wolverhampton. The industry is now long gone, and in its wake there’s a lot of economic hardship. Growing up I didn’t know anyone from where we lived who had gone away to university. It just wasn’t something that was done….

I knew that to make this goal [of going to university and becoming a professor] happen I would need to finance it myself, as my parents wouldn’t be able to help (and that’s assuming that I could convince them that it was a good idea). My father worked long shifts at the local factory while my mother was a secretary in an elementary school. As soon as I could legally work – which was aged 12 – I took on part-time jobs, first delivering newspapers and then working in shops, gardening, bricklaying, even, at one point, digging graves. (The last of these jobs was by some margin the hardest physically, though it was also, not uncoincidentally of course, by far the best paid). A lot of my friends had part-time jobs too, but the big difference was that while they spent their earnings on fun stuff like computer games I had to make sure mine were being spirited away in a savings account, as I was going to need them.

I certainly did need them. While I was relieved to finally make it out of my hometown and get to university, the economic pressure never relented. Most of my time at university was spent living on the very limits financially. Although I worked my way through college, mostly with bar work, and lived frugally, it was very hard to keep my head above water. I never had a cushion of funds behind me, which made me very nervous. But it was worth it: university turned out to be everything I hoped it would be and I thrived there. 

Here’s a funny thing that I realized when I got to college. I was now surrounded by people from comfortable middle-class homes who never had to worry about money. What struck me, however, was that my upbringing had been in many respects very valuable. For one thing, I had a work ethic that had become second-nature. This stands me in good stead even today. I’ve never had a problem getting motivated to work, the impetus to get on with it is just there. That’s priceless. For another thing, I had an appreciation of the academic life. If you feel lucky to be at university then you make the most of it. 

That sense of appreciation is still with me today. How the hell did I manage to make it all the way from that housing estate in Wolverhampton to being – of all things – a professional philosopher?….I know what a life of real hard work is like. It’s a blessing to be able to live a life of the mind instead. Sure, there’s admin and marking and so forth, but compared to the alternatives this way of life is a pretty good one to have, even when the teaching load gets heavy. I’ve never lost sight of that, and of course if you can appreciate things, then you enjoy life a whole lot more. 

Academics are very good at complaining. Professor Pritchard’s essay might help put things in a bit of perspective for some of them.