Finding a Home in The Hue Society

Growing up in a multigenerational family of undocumented immigrants on the Lower Westside of Santa Barbara, I never saw a bottle of wine in the house. Like so many people of similar backgrounds, I simply assumed wine was not meant for us. 

Then I found myself working as a nanny in Montecito for just the sort of folks you might imagine would be drinking wine with meals. One evening, after putting their children to bed, I was invited to take part in a birthday toast. 

I was flattered by the invitation. Until then, I’d felt like an outsider peering in, but participating in the toast felt special, like a gesture of inclusion. Curious about the wine, I was shocked to learn from a quick Google search that the bottle cost more than $800.