Self Respect or, Don't Look Down Your Nose At Me!

I've been turning shirt collars.
Remember that chore?
Boring, tijus, time consuming but rather necessary if I want to continue to look respectable and hire able.

I've had this post rattling round my pea-brain for more than a month, but was unsure how to broach the subject without sounding bitter or resentful. Well, fyi, I'm neither. From my present vantage point it feels as though I'm coming to a place of occasional contentment and even (shock horror!) enjoyment, sometimes. I thought I'd never get here even intermittently so please keep that in mind if you read further.

Last week when I went to collect the 'dole' money a woman crystallised for me an attitude I have been receiving from many people, a combination of disgust, superiority, disdain and at times downright rudeness. I'd noticed it before but either I was more vulnerable than usual or she was just ruder.

So I would like to ask you what your opinion and attitude is to people who are without official employment and dependant on the pretty lousy State hand-out to keep a roof over their head and a semblance of normality to their life? Do you think the likes of me is too lazy to get off their bums and work? Are we unemployable as well as social pariahs? Are we suddenly classed as losers, boozers and tossers without a shred of proof? Does anyone think I was actually aiming for this as a career prospect back when I graduated from College and then got married convinced that I could make a difference to the world and have a great, useful, inspiring life as well as being them best mother and wife the nations had ever seen?

How many of your dreams have crashed and burned, either through your own or others fault...inadvertent probably? How many times have you narrowly escaped being on the skids through pure luck, and how many times has a stroke of good fortune happened to you through pure fluke?

What if you had not received the good fortune? What if you made life-changing decisions which inadvertently put you on the path to financial and emotional bankruptcy? What if you stand and consider people like me, and those worse off, as 'there but for the grace of God go I'? Or do you look at us and think we must have severely displeased God to end up in this situation because those whom He loves He blesses?

Have you considered the effort it takes to look respectable when your charity shop clothes are fast wearing out and you can no longer even afford charity shop prices? Have you considered how many people go to interviews hungry because they needed their money for the bus fare or petrol to get there? Yes I have a laptop and am keeping up phone and Internet charges, how else do I hope to get a job or be contacted? Yes I am also overweight, the cheapest food is better than none and it is also the least nutritious or healthy, you think I like eating rubbish?

At present I am working five different 'jobs' hoping for references, barter, the lead to employment, money making opportunities.. I call them  jobs for my own self respect, one gives me vegetables which keeps food on the table part of the week, another gives me occasional hand-outs when she can afford it and bits of fabric!! All are necessary to my self-esteem.

But as I said at the beginning, there are days that I really enjoy, and I didn't expect that from this precarious existence. I look at 'the haves' with their shopping bags and good clothes and cars and feel a twinge of jealousy, sure, but I know for certain that my higgledy piggeldy lifestyle has more potential, if less remuneration. I also look at the apparent 'haves' and wonder how much fear or loss their outward appearance is hiding. Certainly I'd like to be certain of keeping the roof over my head and being able to feed my girls when they visit without having to go begging from my parents for money, and sure I'd like to know for certain that it will not always be this hand to mouth financial scramble. But I will not put myself back into a position of being bullied or abused in any way shape or form in order to achieve those things.

So for now, yes I am one of the ones looked down upon, a drain on the State, waster and loser and whatever other judgements they care to throw at me, but they judge and find guilty without trial.

In the words of Mr. Magorian:

'We must face tomorrow, whatever it may hold, with

determination,

joy

and bravery.'

 

And boy! every single day takes a truckload of each of those qualities to be got through head up and with a smile on my face.

So yes, I am unemployed; no, this was not a conscious life choice; yes, I would like paid employment; no, I refuse to see myself as down-trodden, desperate sometimes, but not at my wits end; yes, I am going somewhere even though unsure quite where!!

Statistics are real people and on the days I'm struggling to not give up on me, your attitude will make a difference.

Not a Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was an independent little shop. The shop started small with a range of reasonably priced, reasonable quality goods. People liked it because it was not a franchise, a supermarket, a rip-off, had all sorts of useful items and the owner knew both his customers and his stock! He would rummage for items, reach off high shelves, unstack if the colour you wanted was at the bottom of the pile, discuss merits of brands, shoot the breeze, have a laugh, tell stories, give you directions if you were lost, or suggestions if he didn't stock what you wanted. Everything was good value, including the owner!

The little independent shop grew upwards to take in another floor and stacked all sorts of new items. It followed trends, but not slavishly, and was slow to abandon old trends. If you wanted an item out of season, or out of popularity, there it was. It was always a cramped little shop because of stocking such a variety of items, but that was part of the delight of going in. It was possible to buy such a variety of goods there that it saved time dragging all over the town with cross children and paying buckets of coins in parking fees. And what's more, being a dad, the owner was pretty tolerant of cross children and even better at making them giggle.

Time passed, the owner began to show his age and it became apparent that his memory was failing. He got confused easily and didn't know where to find items, which was, naturally, distressing.


Then one bright day a daughter returned  to the shop full-time, unobtrusively taking over the ordering, organising, stock taking, locating items and keeping an eye to things. She stayed in the background whilst her Dad ran the till, chatted with the customers, told stories and jokes, and became almost his old self again, except for frequently calling on her when something was needed that he couldn't remember.

She's still there, running the show completely. She never laughs at him or makes sarky 'Dad jokes'. She never lets on to customers that she is the power behind the throne, though most people guess. She treats her Dad with respect and love and knows his frailty, and cussedness, and covers for him.

Its still an independent little shop, run by an independent man and his strong, loving daughter. Its still a great place to do all the odd errands in one place, hear a story and catch up on the chat. Its also a really heart warming place to mosey around and listen to the pair of them.


This is not a fairy tale. It will end sadly. But with dignity and self-respect intact, one man is growing old in his own kingdom, passing his time being useful and cheerful.

I don't know the daughter well enough to tell her how much I admire and respect her for each day she gives her father. She'd probably laugh if someone praised her for just selflessly doing her family duty.

But from where I stand, she's a hero.