Don't poison the children
Donna Williams
March 25, 2006
I recently read an essay by a friend who was talking about a cycle of poverty in which those born poor stay poor. Whilst this is often so, what intrigued me was that she was specifically referring to those born to families who disrespected education, authority and the law as though this was synoymous with 'the poor'.
I grew up in a working class area, born to uneducated and, at that time, poor parents, but the fact was I learned there was a difference between my family and those deemed 'working class'. Sure we both were dressed thanks to the charity shops, but our families probably had very different outlooks.
The working class families had a parent who would show up for school reports, not just threaten to punch the teacher's head in if called in for anything they deemed 'stupid'. The working class families had aspirations for their children which involved a healthy respect for formal education, marks, reading and qualification leading to work.
Working class kids didn't come from a long line of criminals and substance abusers. They didn't have a parent or parents who encouraged the kids to stay home when they didn't feel up to driving them to school or felt like a bit of company whilst doing the shopping. The working class family may not have mocked all authority figures or cast a reverse prejudice at those with education or a professional or academic position. The working class family may have cared if your library books were overdue or if the homework was done.
Underclass families can be poor or they can make money, often 'dirty money'. They are always the first to claim their dodgy ways were 'only fair in an unfair world', that 'the system is corrupt so it is righteous to find ways to beat it at any cost'. They are always the first to ask 'what are you reading that rubbish for?' when you threaten to show attention to anything that may lead down the murky path of enlightenment but be glad enough if you browse the narcky gossip magazine or the tabloid newspaper full of breasts and plastic surgery and alien abductions or dare to watch the non-comercial TV stations, the less mass production radio stations.
I was pulled out of school at fifteen, my older brother was pulled out by age twelve. I tried to encourage my younger brother to finish secondary school, but his attitude to education had festered years before and he was going through the motions. Only I went back, becoming that most unfathomable sell-out, an academic success, dare we blaspheme, a 'professional'.
My father was proud of me. He was a man with two years of primary school under his belt who could barely write, one could say Underclass by default, not attitude. But that was the limit. From the others there was silence on the matter, it was almost unmentionable if not a sort of snicker-worthy joke. though nobody said it, I felt it was clear I had stopped being 'one of us'. I was 'one of them' and the forks were out. I was now fair game.
The poisoning of my mind had been unsuccessul. I was hopelessly open-minded.
Donna Williams
http://www.donnawilliams.net
I grew up in a working class area, born to uneducated and, at that time, poor parents, but the fact was I learned there was a difference between my family and those deemed 'working class'. Sure we both were dressed thanks to the charity shops, but our families probably had very different outlooks.
The working class families had a parent who would show up for school reports, not just threaten to punch the teacher's head in if called in for anything they deemed 'stupid'. The working class families had aspirations for their children which involved a healthy respect for formal education, marks, reading and qualification leading to work.
Working class kids didn't come from a long line of criminals and substance abusers. They didn't have a parent or parents who encouraged the kids to stay home when they didn't feel up to driving them to school or felt like a bit of company whilst doing the shopping. The working class family may not have mocked all authority figures or cast a reverse prejudice at those with education or a professional or academic position. The working class family may have cared if your library books were overdue or if the homework was done.
Underclass families can be poor or they can make money, often 'dirty money'. They are always the first to claim their dodgy ways were 'only fair in an unfair world', that 'the system is corrupt so it is righteous to find ways to beat it at any cost'. They are always the first to ask 'what are you reading that rubbish for?' when you threaten to show attention to anything that may lead down the murky path of enlightenment but be glad enough if you browse the narcky gossip magazine or the tabloid newspaper full of breasts and plastic surgery and alien abductions or dare to watch the non-comercial TV stations, the less mass production radio stations.
I was pulled out of school at fifteen, my older brother was pulled out by age twelve. I tried to encourage my younger brother to finish secondary school, but his attitude to education had festered years before and he was going through the motions. Only I went back, becoming that most unfathomable sell-out, an academic success, dare we blaspheme, a 'professional'.
My father was proud of me. He was a man with two years of primary school under his belt who could barely write, one could say Underclass by default, not attitude. But that was the limit. From the others there was silence on the matter, it was almost unmentionable if not a sort of snicker-worthy joke. though nobody said it, I felt it was clear I had stopped being 'one of us'. I was 'one of them' and the forks were out. I was now fair game.
The poisoning of my mind had been unsuccessul. I was hopelessly open-minded.
Donna Williams
http://www.donnawilliams.net
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