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Janice Galloway: Let's prepare the ground for our children – and let's not be afraid Janice Galloway: Let's prepare the ground for our children – and let's not be afraid
(8 months later)
Because I was born 1955 in Saltcoats, I spent my childhood years in what was called, even at the time, the swinging sixties. I was there, and Saltcoats never swung. My circumscribed upbringing stressed the importance of three things with little swing about them: the importance of knowing one's place; the social obligation to develop self-doubt and openness to shame; a sidelong, preferably unspoken, appreciation of human absurdity to make the other two bearable. Because I was born 1955 in Saltcoats, I spent my childhood years in what was called, even at the time, the swinging sixties. I was there, and Saltcoats never swung. My circumscribed upbringing stressed the importance of three things with little swing about them: the importance of knowing one's place; the social obligation to develop self-doubt and openness to shame; a sidelong, preferably unspoken, appreciation of human absurdity to make the other two bearable.
Several refrains recurred in my childhood as reinforcement. 1) Who do you think you are? Princess Bloody Margaret/The Queen of Sheba? 2) I suppose you think you're special with your nose in a book? and 3) Who asked your opinion, short arse? You're not entitled to an opinion: you're entitled to shut up.Several refrains recurred in my childhood as reinforcement. 1) Who do you think you are? Princess Bloody Margaret/The Queen of Sheba? 2) I suppose you think you're special with your nose in a book? and 3) Who asked your opinion, short arse? You're not entitled to an opinion: you're entitled to shut up.
Having only just survived the ghastly privations and fears of the second world war, large families where a high rate of infant mortality was the norm, life-endangering work and stoutly defended class divisions, most people (certainly most children of said survivors) believed the refrains no more open to question than the laws of physics. The survival skill of knowing one's place in a hard world as paramount. And one's place was wee.Having only just survived the ghastly privations and fears of the second world war, large families where a high rate of infant mortality was the norm, life-endangering work and stoutly defended class divisions, most people (certainly most children of said survivors) believed the refrains no more open to question than the laws of physics. The survival skill of knowing one's place in a hard world as paramount. And one's place was wee.
Teaching your children not to want "too much" (sometimes to want anything) was for the ultimate good of all. By turns a domestic servant, mill worker, clippie, newsagent, cleaner and dinner lady, my mother's work had been circumscribed by type: it was only natural the hard-earned realities of her life be turned into whatever advice she could muster that might serve as insurance against disappointment. When her own regrets hit home (all the more as she aged), she blamed herself, her marriage and, most of all, Scotland. It was the place's fault. Her own sensation of weeness was not a frame of mind: not at all. It was the unavoidable curse of her country's literal size. Teaching your children not to want "too much" (sometimes to want anything) was for the ultimate good of all. By turns a domestic servant, mill worker, clippie, newsagent, cleaner and dinner lady, my mother's work had been circumscribed by type: it was only natural the hard-earned realities of her life be turned into whatever advice she could muster that might serve as insurance against disappointment. When her own regrets hit home (all the more as she aged), she blamed herself, her marriage and, most of all, Scotland. It was the place's fault. Her own sensation of weeness was not a frame of mind: not at all. It was the unavoidable curse of her country's literal size.
Small meant weak. Easily crushed. As a working-class royalist, moreover a guilty widow whose husband had avoided national service on the grounds of flat feet, the thing she valued most about the British empire was the sacrifice that had been made for its landmass and political system and, even more, for its bigness. Inside it, she felt blessed with trickle-down glory: without it, she'd surely have disappeared entirely.Small meant weak. Easily crushed. As a working-class royalist, moreover a guilty widow whose husband had avoided national service on the grounds of flat feet, the thing she valued most about the British empire was the sacrifice that had been made for its landmass and political system and, even more, for its bigness. Inside it, she felt blessed with trickle-down glory: without it, she'd surely have disappeared entirely.
At 18, I cast my first vote following the traditional rules of affiliation: council-house mining-background sorts were Labour. If a monkey stood for Labour round here, the monkey would get in, my mother laughed. Haha. Landladies with guest houses on the sea front voted for the Tory monkey. That was how politics worked. The Highlands and Borders voted Liberal, partly to dissociate from the great unwashed of the central belt, but also because Liberals were trustworthy on the grounds nobody would ever give them real power. These voting patterns, like the refrains, were immutable laws of politics.At 18, I cast my first vote following the traditional rules of affiliation: council-house mining-background sorts were Labour. If a monkey stood for Labour round here, the monkey would get in, my mother laughed. Haha. Landladies with guest houses on the sea front voted for the Tory monkey. That was how politics worked. The Highlands and Borders voted Liberal, partly to dissociate from the great unwashed of the central belt, but also because Liberals were trustworthy on the grounds nobody would ever give them real power. These voting patterns, like the refrains, were immutable laws of politics.
It was years before my sister found out from a newspaper I was writing stuff. And her reaction was singular. She phoned me. How she got my number I haven't an idea. I recognised the voice immediately, however: if I thought I was It I had another think coming, she said. Do you hear? Pack it in. I felt 11 again and almost wept. But I was not 11. I was 36 with a baby and she didn't know my address. I hung up. Keeping night terrors at bay, aware I owed a baby something worth having, I read a lot about child development. I read Piaget and Alice Miller and novels and poems, plays and child-rearing manuals – all sorts.It was years before my sister found out from a newspaper I was writing stuff. And her reaction was singular. She phoned me. How she got my number I haven't an idea. I recognised the voice immediately, however: if I thought I was It I had another think coming, she said. Do you hear? Pack it in. I felt 11 again and almost wept. But I was not 11. I was 36 with a baby and she didn't know my address. I hung up. Keeping night terrors at bay, aware I owed a baby something worth having, I read a lot about child development. I read Piaget and Alice Miller and novels and poems, plays and child-rearing manuals – all sorts.
Turned out that the inculcation of multiple guilt complexes, a tendency to depression and a fierce rein on self-expression was a shit way to bring anyone up. What mattered, all suggested, was the fostering of possibility. Of confidence and openness rather than kneejerk apprehension. Of trust. Who'd have thought? Now, my son is a man with a job of his own in London and the UK is in the balance. These are heady times.Turned out that the inculcation of multiple guilt complexes, a tendency to depression and a fierce rein on self-expression was a shit way to bring anyone up. What mattered, all suggested, was the fostering of possibility. Of confidence and openness rather than kneejerk apprehension. Of trust. Who'd have thought? Now, my son is a man with a job of his own in London and the UK is in the balance. These are heady times.
I approached the referendum with a sense of excitement and a thirst for information. It seemed a great opportunity for debate: a departure from the political disaffection and disappointment that had obtained in working-class Scotland since the 80s. Yes would present a case and no would give it their best comeback, right?I approached the referendum with a sense of excitement and a thirst for information. It seemed a great opportunity for debate: a departure from the political disaffection and disappointment that had obtained in working-class Scotland since the 80s. Yes would present a case and no would give it their best comeback, right?
Well no. From the off, the tenor of the no campaign shocked me. Then it disgusted me. It was not only lousy child-rearing, it came across like mockery, or ill-prepared homework on the back of a posh menu from a dinner to privatise the NHS. Ridiculous threats ("just a joke, Scotland, can't you take a joke") turned to outrageous threats of disempowerment. There is no alternative – the monoculture mantra of the 80s – resurfaced with greed is good presented as fact, not ideology. And the condescension of "love-bombing" and the Braveheart caricatures (a conflation/confusion of BNP with SNP was a deeply unpleasant stunner) took me completely by surprise.Well no. From the off, the tenor of the no campaign shocked me. Then it disgusted me. It was not only lousy child-rearing, it came across like mockery, or ill-prepared homework on the back of a posh menu from a dinner to privatise the NHS. Ridiculous threats ("just a joke, Scotland, can't you take a joke") turned to outrageous threats of disempowerment. There is no alternative – the monoculture mantra of the 80s – resurfaced with greed is good presented as fact, not ideology. And the condescension of "love-bombing" and the Braveheart caricatures (a conflation/confusion of BNP with SNP was a deeply unpleasant stunner) took me completely by surprise.
Maybe I am sentimental, but I had hoped there would be a trace of the UK spirit my mother had loved and pinned her colours upon from the no camp's rhetoric. Nope. The tone was depressingly familiar. You're too stupid for me to have to argue with properly, was all I heard when Alistair Darling opened his mouth. There's no going back, short-arse. Don't say you weren'ae warned. Who'd have thought?Maybe I am sentimental, but I had hoped there would be a trace of the UK spirit my mother had loved and pinned her colours upon from the no camp's rhetoric. Nope. The tone was depressingly familiar. You're too stupid for me to have to argue with properly, was all I heard when Alistair Darling opened his mouth. There's no going back, short-arse. Don't say you weren'ae warned. Who'd have thought?
Surely what might have been worth saying was obvious. How about an argument for proper power-sharing, even a new type of state – a change to the increasingly elitist insistence on market-first ideology for starters? A plan for talks at least regarding genuine concern at Scottish disaffection? How about something to encourage the public-spiritedness of the kids I remember from my days teaching in the Garnock Valley? Or politicians who live not only close enough to see and experience the effects of their policies first hand but are reachable by bus?Surely what might have been worth saying was obvious. How about an argument for proper power-sharing, even a new type of state – a change to the increasingly elitist insistence on market-first ideology for starters? A plan for talks at least regarding genuine concern at Scottish disaffection? How about something to encourage the public-spiritedness of the kids I remember from my days teaching in the Garnock Valley? Or politicians who live not only close enough to see and experience the effects of their policies first hand but are reachable by bus?
In the present, what we have on our hands is an astonishing thing: a chance to remake a country without bloodshed. This is an opportunity. How about the people's votes being genuinely reflected in the resulting composition of government? A government that grasps (as Tony Blair and the neoliberal mess that is present British politics does not) that it may not overrule the demonstrated will of the people and listen to an American president to feel more self-important instead? Some notion of state education and health and wages that is not predicated upon the imperative of trickling down at all? How many in Yorkshire, Lancashire, Derbyshire, the Midlands or Teesside, in any part of Wales, in many parts of London, in any of the islands of the landmass Britannia, do not want that too? Westminster's recent special offers are both embarrassing and potentially a breach of electoral commission rules (postal votes are already in). That some may be swayed by this rubbish is a scary prospect. If any of it meant anything, it would have been offered before now.In the present, what we have on our hands is an astonishing thing: a chance to remake a country without bloodshed. This is an opportunity. How about the people's votes being genuinely reflected in the resulting composition of government? A government that grasps (as Tony Blair and the neoliberal mess that is present British politics does not) that it may not overrule the demonstrated will of the people and listen to an American president to feel more self-important instead? Some notion of state education and health and wages that is not predicated upon the imperative of trickling down at all? How many in Yorkshire, Lancashire, Derbyshire, the Midlands or Teesside, in any part of Wales, in many parts of London, in any of the islands of the landmass Britannia, do not want that too? Westminster's recent special offers are both embarrassing and potentially a breach of electoral commission rules (postal votes are already in). That some may be swayed by this rubbish is a scary prospect. If any of it meant anything, it would have been offered before now.
In the blink of an eye, our children's children will be in charge of the tough stuff. We need to prepare the ground for them now and not be afraid.In the blink of an eye, our children's children will be in charge of the tough stuff. We need to prepare the ground for them now and not be afraid.
There's nothing's stopping us. We can do it if we want to. Yes. Yes. Yes.There's nothing's stopping us. We can do it if we want to. Yes. Yes. Yes.