From the point I started writing this blog I have expressed my views and opinions.
They are never going to be 100% the same as maybe your ideas or beliefs and I’m sure you have good rationale behind how you think. But given this blog is about my midlife adventure, in all its diversities, I have always felt the need to be honest.
Opinion is personal and we are fortunate enough to live in a democratic country where personal expression is currently allowed and not illegal.
I like to centre my opinion on personal life experience and I sometimes, as is the case here, include photographs from my personal collection that don’t perhaps seem to have relevance to my text. With the narrative alive in my head I like to choose photos that speak to me when I’m perusing my collection.
During my midlife I’ve begun to look more consciously at the world around me and to realise that people’s opinions are often formulated upon what they read, have been taught or been brought up with and not what they have actually experienced.
In this current climate often what they read is in the media, in all it’s now wonderful formats. I find it quite frightening that tabloid newspapers both in paper format and on line can influence people’s opinions so dramatically.
It’s incredibly sad that some of our younger generation are reading and believing what they see on line. I’m not saying that everything that is written in the tabloids or on social media is untrue but I would suggest that a lot of it is not factually based but merely the journalist’s opinion.
Journalism used to be an admired and time honoured profession, young students competed for university places. These days it is an excuse to write an article based upon “opinion”, the “opinion of the journalist”. There is no longer, it seems, a need to ensure what is written is based upon fact, as long as it grabs attention and “clicks”!
There is a consistent need to speculate and dramatise events to grab peoples’ attention whilst they are scrolling through the internet on their phones and also to sell papers and magazines to those generations who still rely on this paper version of the news.
As part of my midlife I am making a concerted effort to formulate views based upon true life experience. I appreciate not everyone has lived on this planet as long as me or had the experiences I’ve had. I’ve been fortunate to work alongside people of every nationality, from every walk of life, rich and poor and to see the real effect that life, in all its shapes and forms, can have on people.
I have also experienced prejudice in my life. How can a white, middle aged British woman have been subject to prejudice? I hear you ask.
Prejudice Comes in all Shapes and Sizes:
As I explain in more detail in an older post entitled “How did I get here?”
I was brought up in Gloucestershire on a council estate or in social housing as it is referred to now. Council houses then were very much the homes of the “working class”.
Despite my start in life I was encouraged by my Mum to make the most of my education. I loved attending the local village Junior School and won a yearly prize in the form of a book for my continual achievements.
At the age of 11 I passed my 11+ exam and joined the Girls Grammar School in the local town and that was when my world began to change.
I was no longer the admired student winning accolades for my attendance, dedication and work, I was suddenly “the girl from the council estate”. It’s possibly hard to imagine this now but back in the 1970’s the class system in the UK was very much alive and kicking.
The UK Class System
Where you sat in the social class ranking back then remained a highly significant factor determining life outcomes, opportunities, and social interactions.
Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t the only person in my year group in this social class but we were definitely in the minority. Living in a council house held a stigma, our parents weren’t doctors, dentists or bankers. As such I wasn’t seen as a prospective friend for the other middle class raised daughters in my year at school and I certainly wasn’t invited to their birthday parties.
I did make friends with girls from other social classes who accepted me for who I was but even then when their parents dropped me off from visiting their house, I always got them to drop me by the private housing estate and then when they had driven off I’d sneak across the road and take the cut through back home.
The mother of my second boyfriend when I was 17 blatantly told her son I was not good enough for him because of my poor background. Can you imagine that happening today?
Single Parenting:
Later in life I discovered a new manifestation of social prejudice, that of being a single parent.
By moving back to Gloucestershire in 2005 I suddenly found myself in a world where I was once again different to all the other Mums at the school gates. They were all stay at home Mums, either because they were lucky enough to have husbands who earned enough money to allow them a standard of living whereby they could stay at home and bring up the family or they were living on benefits and had little or no choice but to stay at home.
So here I was again presenting myself as different- a working single mother with a career and a live in au pair. It became apparent only too quickly that the school had never had to deal with this situation before. They didn’t understand the need, for example, until I pointed it out to them, that notifying me 7-10 days beforehand that an important event such as parents evening was taking place was insufficient notice for me to sometimes get cover at work to attend.
I still remember one parent governor coming up to me on sports day and saying “I’ve heard so much about you, its admirable that you have a career whilst also being a Mum but don’t you think its unfair on your children not to have a parent at home, to pick them up every day and care for them?” I remember being astounded by her comment, that without doubt came from a complete lack of understanding of my position. Who did she think was going to pay my bills if I didn’t work?
Being A Working Single Mum:
This wasn’t best received in my working life either. There was no allowance made for it.
I joined the company in the mid 80’s and by the late 80’s was a Manager working in a male dominated industry and if I wanted to pursue my career then I had to operate alongside all the guys.
They had wives who happily stayed at home keeping the house running, washing and ironing their shirts, looking after their children and not blinking an eyelid when a meeting was changed at less than a day’s notice to another area of the country.
Staying away for the night was nigh on compulsory in these circumstances and they saw it as a great opportunity for a good jolly away from their wives. I lost count how many times I stood in hotel bars listening to male colleagues talking about football, cricket and other male dominated leisure activities with no regard to my presence or inclusion.
Nights that sometimes included them chatting up (and pursuing) other women in the bar with no regards to the wedding ring which may or may not be still on their finger!
There were no females employed above me. It was tough finding my way and constantly competing. I basically wore two hats that were interchangeable in my car, morning and night -Manager and Mum.
It is these experiences though, alongside others, that have helped shape who I am and on which I can now base my opinions. My views come from a life well lived. I’ve tried to stay true to myself, following my own values and goals, rather than being influenced by others.
And as I now navigate midlife I spend some of my time writing about this stage of my life and sharing adventures that I take with my hubby and sometimes letting those opinions out in the open.
I really like writing a blog and I hope that you have enjoyed this post. If you have maybe you can tick the “like” box or even share a comment. I’m interested in hearing other peoples views of social prejudice if you have time to share.
A Midlife Adventure 