At the Forum for Corporate Conscience several years back, Warren Buffett said one reason for his success was the fact that he won the genetic lottery--in other words, his "wild card" was that he was born white and middle class, with few barriers to impede his ambitions.

That rang true for me the other day, at a day-long event for women planned by Wachovia.

I sat in a room of 300 accomplished women listening to Cokie Roberts over breakfast. She was not only extremely bright but quite funny, as she talked about mothers, daughters and the choices we have.

After some small group discussions, Cokie hosted a panel of women to explore the idea of choices more thoroughly. We talked about the options our mothers had, which were limited by our current standards. We talked about the mixed messages our daughters receive—on the one hand, any opportunity is available to them in their career or family choices. On the other, we are condoning risqué and vapid behaviors that sometimes send a sexist message. For the most part, the talk centered on the wide variety of choices that women now have.

At one point, Cokie Roberts said (I’m paraphrasing), "Let's face it,  we are talking about the choices of the privileged few--most women in this country are living on minimum wage, without the hope of affording a decent place to live, much less of having an IRA, or sending their daughters to college."

Later, I got into a discussion with two young women about just that, and told them about Nickel and Dimed, the book I just finished.  Written by Barbara Ehrenreich, it chronicles the writer’s attempt to live on minimum wage for a year. She traveled to four different cities, taking jobs as waitress, house cleaner, Wal-Mart clerk and the like. In each city, most of her off-hours were spent desperately trying to find an affordable, safe place to live. She was rarely successful, and only found a decent apartment when she took two jobs, working around the clock seven days a week.

In one city, she ended up at a pay-by-the-week hotel, which was well over her budget. The things we take for granted, such as having a refrigerator so that she could purchase nutritional foods, vanished for Ehrenreich. She survived on cheap, high-fat fast foods, which are plentiful and accessible to low-wage earners.

On their way out, both of the women again asked the title, and I was sure that I opened their eyes to a reality that they hadn't ever considered.

It’s a reality few of us ever see.

Most of us drew a lucky wild card, being raised by parents who had not only the economic means to support us, but the intelligence and emotional fortitude to inspire us and set us on our course.

I wasn't born to a teenage mother with a sixth grade education and a penchant for crack cocaine, or an abusive father who couldn't hold a job.  I’m no better than those that were, but I was given a great gift that allowed me to pursue my dreams, no matter what they were. For me, it was finding the courage to open my own business, following a path that is a complete divergence from that of my parents. 

My family taught me to think critically and independently, which has led to my own celebrations and heartbreaks.  But I'll likely never know the desperation of searching for a safe place to live on a Wal-Mart income.

I guess I have the genetic lottery to thank for that.

Barbara Ehrenreich’s book demonstrates just how much the odds are against a minimum-wage worker. Most compelling were her daily tales about the search for affordable housing, but other issues, such as health care, access to social services, nutrition, emotional stress and physical challenges were just as harrowing. In her closing observations, she described the minimum-wage working class as the true philanthropists of our time, because they sacrifice so much in order to see to our everyday needs—and are nearly invisible doing so.