Tag: britain

London: it’s a love-hate relationship

London: it’s a love-hate relationship

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 4 Comments

Whenever I’ve travelled to a different country or have met people from around the world, in the first moments of us getting to know one another, they hear I’m English and they inevitably ask me if I’m from London. I tend to laugh in response, and then we begin the charade of me saying a city they’ve no idea about, and then I try to help them place me by talking about football teams – most of the time we settle on Manchester. Which, of course, if anyone knows anything about the war of the roses and the subsequent beef between Yorkshire and Lancashire, they’ll know that there’s a whole lot of difference between the two areas. Not least in accent.

I don’t mind at all that people from different countries have never heard of Bradford: why should they care? What cuts a little though, is the amount of times I’ve had to have this exact conversation with people from the south of England. Some of them don’t even know what I’m talking about when I mention Leeds! Leeds is a big city!!! And it’s not just that many people don’t know where cities in the north are, it’s the bitter pill that the only place which seems to be of any significance to them is London.

But why care so much?

Well, I care because of the huge economic differences between the north and south of England, and the consequences this has on the lives of the people in the two areas.

I’d never really had much to do with London and the south growing up, other than seeing the London schools on CBBC getting the random celebrity visitors, or knowing that London was where the Queen lived, and that it was really far away from Bradford – in more ways than just distance. But this isn’t the part where I say I grew up in an impoverished household, where my parents had to work 3 jobs for us to eat , because my ability to see the wealth-gap between the north and south isn’t reliant on my family’s economic situation. My parents know what it is to be on the dole, and they have never had any savings, but I’ve never been poor. That doesn’t mean that I don’t know what it looks like, though.

Poverty isn’t just about the money you have, but a secure financial situation gifts people and communities so much more than you might first think. If a family is wealthy, and thus money isn’t something they have to worry about, then they have so much more time, energy and resources to do other things. For example, they can buy books, or go to a different city or country, or buy a membership to a gym. They have the ability to see value in investing in cultural capital: learning to play an instrument, or reading a book is no longer deemed as a ‘waste’, and so many more things like going to university or moving to a bigger city to do an internship seem attainable. Money gives people time and opportunity, and economic stability allows people the freedom to think further than what they need to survive.

So no wonder when I drove into central London last week, the majority of people I saw looked healthier and wealthier than those I’d seen in Shipley earlier that morning. You could see economic stability in the fact that their skin colour didn’t look tired and yellow; fewer people were overweight; more were nicely dressed, in clothes they’d carefully picked out to suit their bodies; all of the shops were open, and around every corner there was a museum or a gallery or a theatre. You can literally see the differences, if you’re bothered to look.

Unfortunately, the last time I spoke about a north-south class divide, was when I wrote a description of my experience as a northerner at a Russell Group University. I did my best to not be overly critical of people, but still that blog was reported by at least 100 members of my university’s Facebook group, and it helped to get me blocked from the page for over a year. So, it would seem that this desire to ignore and neglect the uncomfortable parts of our society we blamed on older generations, persists into psyche of the ‘progressive’ millennials.

It gets very tiring very quickly to be stereotyped as a stupid northerner, from the middle of nowhere, when you know that those stereotypes are rooted in blatant economic inequality. So no, I don’t find it very funny when I sit on a delayed tube and make a joke saying ‘none of this in Bradford’, and a super healthy, well-dressed, young girl with a southern accent says ‘is there anything in Bradford?’. Because regardless of how she intended it, or whether she’s a nice girl or not, it just doesn’t sound very funny coming from a stranger with that accent.

I’d like to finish this blog with clarifying that the north of England doesn’t need pity or to be patronised, and that obviously I’m aware that the south isn’t full of only privileged people. There’s plenty of culture, history and privilege up here, and there’s plenty of poverty down there. But it would be helpful for everyone if individuals started to take more notice of the disparities and the inevitable effects those disparities have on communities. After all, government and institutions will only start to spread the wealth out more, if people (especially those from the side with more) are seen to actively want that to happen.

Economics and equality are complex topics, and there’s no way I can put the world to rights with one blog entry. Nonetheless, I know that there will be many of you reading this who had never considered why a southerner taking the piss out of a northerner might sting a little more. And maybe my northern peers don’t feel irritated by it in the same way I do, but I felt like I needed to say it – especially in the divisive political climate of the last 10 years. I don’t hate London; in fact, I love it because it’s exciting, and the buildings are beautiful, and everything’s there, but then again, why does everything have to only be there?

Is this a witch hunt now?

Is this a witch hunt now?

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Recently, I’ve been trying to learn as much as I can about the world and other people. Though I’ve always enjoyed asking questions, it’s been the past few years of my life when I’ve really made an effort to engage with what’s going on around me. But I’m not just talking about reading the news, or history books; I’m talking about asking my peers questions about sex and relationships, questioning those in positions of authority, and challenging my own views on things as much as I can.

I’ve not reached any definitive conclusions – obviously, I’ve been on the planet for about 20 seconds. However, one of the things that I have come to realise is that people have a real issue with trusting each other. It’s understandably due to all the corruption and deceit experienced throughout human history. But it seems that even in the moments when there’s no need to be so suspicious, we’re automatically assuming the worst of each other.

And that’s kind of sad.

I’m not saying that people should never be suspicious of others, I’m only saying that in always assuming the worst of each other, we’re really losing sight of the importance of community. To make matters worse, in the total tumult of a global pandemic, our own government are explicitly encouraging us to turn on each other. So it might seem like nothing, but the second our government urge us to snitch on our neighbours, that is the moment when our society has a HUGE problem.

Preaching about your civil rights is all well and good, but remember that you aren’t the only person in this society. You can’t dob people in just because you judge what they’re doing as wrong: it’s your right to live your life the way you want to, but don’t forget that your neighbour has the same rights as you. Let’s not have an ego trip and start playing judge, jury and executioner over a neighbour allowing another person into their own home. Frankly, taking that road leads society to dictatorships, ignoring the presence of concentration camps, and public executions. It definitely doesn’t lead to any kind of effective democracy – it never has.

Thus even though it can sometimes lead to disappointment, we really need to trust each other more. After all, very few people commit crimes sp there’s no need for us to assume that the worst will always happen first.

Government likes to dismantle community to strengthen its own control. But the government won’t be the ones rushing to your aid if you get knocked over by a car and start bleeding in the middle of the street. They won’t be there to speak to you when you’re lonely. They won’t be the ones you ask to look after your children whilst you run to the shop to get some more milk. So be careful about burning your bridges with your community: they’re the people you actually need.

Yes, I actually sound like that

Yes, I actually sound like that

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 1 Comment

I’ve had many people tell me that social class is really not a thing that’s relevant to Britain anymore. But then the people who say this tend to be from middle to upper class households. Thus their opinion isn’t going to be so appropriate when applied to those lower down in the pecking order…

I’m pretty solidly middle class: I was born in Durham and grew up in a very pretty part of Bradford. Both of my parents are English teachers, I went to a normal West Yorkshire state school and I’m not the first member of my family to go to University. But I’m also not rich: there have been many things in my life which I couldn’t afford, and I’ve had jobs since I was 16. In fact, I worked 3 of them to pay for my entire gap year and then spent most of my time abroad working anyway.

Whereas, both of my parents are working class through and through: my mum is from Bradford, West Yorkshire and my dad is from Blyth, a small ex-mining town north-east of Newcastle. They were the first of both of their immediate families to attend University and are very proud of coming from these parts of England.

This means that whilst I’m a comfortable middle class citizen, a significant portion of my values, experiences and personality come from being raised by my parents. Therefore part of me will always be kind of working class.

When I moved to University, my parents were so specific in making sure I knew that I was going to be surrounded by people who came from different, wealthier upbringings than I. They didn’t want me to harbour any prejudices but most of all they didn’t want me to feel intimidated. Luckily, I’m pretty non-judgemental as it is, so social class and where people come from or what they sound like matter very little to me. And if you asked most people, it’s likely that they’d say the same. However, just because someone says that they don’t actively care about things such as this, it doesn’t mean that the differences don’t exist.

So at University I’ve found myself in a bit of a sticky spot. This is because whilst I’m middle class like many of my friends, I’m also Northern English. And the north of England is an entirely different world to the south. I’m not working class enough to fit with the working class students, but a middle class life in London is very very very different to one in Bradford.

But how exactly do I not fit?

Well let’s take my accent as an example. I love the West Yorkshire accent, and in all honesty I really don’t have a strong version of it. But it’s definitely there and I definitely made a point of keeping it when I moved for University. I’d expected some teasing of my accent, because I knew that most of the other students would probably be southerners. But what I didn’t expect was someone to just straight-up ask me ‘oh wow, do you actually speak like that?’, surprised that I could be clever and still miss out my ‘t’s.

Mad isn’t it? Clever people with Yorkshire accents exist?!

I also just don’t have access to so much of my friends’ experience of school. I mean, we sat around the table one time and they were talking about their time as prefects. Prefects?! That wasn’t a thing at my school hahahah, and it sounds like something straight out of an old Enid Blyton book to me.

I love Durham University and many of the people I’ve met. But I’d be lying if I said that I feel like I fit in. To be honest, I don’t really feel like I fit in at home either but home is easier, because everything is so familiar – and nobody comments on how I sound, since we all sound like that.

I don’t prefer one world to the other at all, in fact I love that I can live in more than one. Moving has just made me realise how much of a north-south divide there really is. Sometimes I feel like I’m from an entirely different country, but I’m really not and it shouldn’t be like that.

But all that these differences come down to is wealth, and the north needs more of it.

Walk it

Walk it

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

So here I am: it’s Tuesday, I’m full of whatever illness my friends at college have gifted me and I’ve somehow been bothered to make it to my 2 hour Korean lesson. The day’s going well. (This blog is going to be pretty emotionally-charged by the way: strap in).

What I didn’t need added to my day, was some old, male, traffic warden peering through my windscreen whilst I was STILL IN MY CAR, to check if my disabled badge was a fraud. For the record, it’s weird and intimidating to have a stranger looking inside your car whilst you’re still in there. But the core of my annoyance, was the fact that I’m sick and tired of the disabled parking bays situation.

Now, if you aren’t disabled, or don’t have any close relatives or friends who are, then you might be thinking: what situation? Is there even a situation?

Well, my dear reader, yes there bloody well is a situation. And it’s one that has made my parents furious for years before me, but now I also have the joy of being angered by it too. Lucky me!

So it’s simple, right? You go to any public space and most of the time there are parking bays with bright yellow hatching, and the universally recognised symbol for disability. Everyone knows that that then marks those parking bays as exclusively for people who need it i.e. ones who own a blue badge issued by the government, indicating that they’re legally recognised as disabled. I won’t go too into it now, but trust me when I say that you don’t just get that badge. You have to undergo what is in my experience, an insanely gruelling, somewhat traumatising process so as to be recognised by the government as ‘eligible’ for it. But I’ll write a blog detailing that process another day- look forward to that one, it’s a corker.

Anyway: you need a disabled badge to park in the space closest to the destination, seen as it’s predominantly the people who’re disabled who’re unable to access things and places easily. Surprise!

Why is it then that when my dad dropped me off at Secondary school, on average only 2 out of about 8 disabled bays had cars with blue badges in them? One of which was my dad’s car. With my badge. I’d also like to add the information that my school was attached to a Special Needs school: attended by children with severe disabilities, whose parents probably needed to use those parking spaces when picking them up.

Why is it that this also happens every time I go to a supermarket, a shop, or just anywhere really? Why did I have to ask the receptionist at my University college today – a college which prides itself on diversity and acceptance – to ask the woman who uses a bay every week and doesn’t display a badge, to please park somewhere else?

You might wonder why this is so offensive to me. Or, like the traffic warden, think me ‘silly’ for even being offended by it. (His patronising choice of words really added to the moment, I must say).

It’s offensive because when people park in these spaces, they’re not thinking of how insanely immoral and unfair what they’re doing is. Those spaces are for people who literally need them. People who can’t walk that extra few steps to the building. People who need equipment to move and to live. People who have in recent years had to fight so hard, just to be deemed ‘eligible’ by the government for things that they need to survive.

If you park in those bays when you don’t need to, then you’re depriving a disabled person of their right to get on with their life and to be independent. I’m not always in a wheelchair, and on the surface it appears that I walk pretty well, but if I can’t park in those bays then I might have to walk a distance which will cause me to develop an infection, and to go in a wheelchair for months on end. So if that’s what’s at stake for me, then think about the people who’re wheelchair bound and what that space might mean to them.

Again, this might sound like an overreaction, but trust me when I say that it’s not.

It’s not just the walking distance, it’s also the backlash that comes from people abusing those spaces. Namely, the fact that it creates a culture of doubt. If those spaces were respected, then I wouldn’t have had some old man looking into my car to see if I was lying today. I wouldn’t have had him looking me in the eyes in disbelief as to why I was asking him not to do that. He told me that he was checking the disabled badge ‘for’ me: to ‘help’ me. I obviously understand why he checks, but I resent the fact that he thought I would lie.

So I appeal to you, to think about your actions and to just park somewhere else. Just walk those extra steps. Not just because you have the physical ability to do it, but also because I would never ask for something that I don’t need. I don’t abuse the system, in fact I probably don’t use it enough. But I need to park there. And I’m tired of defending my right to that space.