POVERTY

I grew up in the suburbs of Liverpool, Once the great port of the British Empire, Liverpool lost 80,000 jobs between 1972 and 1982 and my father who had worked as a journalist and as a copywriter in the bourgeoning yet fragile media industry simply could not get work.

My mum and her best friend, scholarships girls, who had forged a friendship walking from their council estate to their posh public school, bought a knitting machine and used these early computers to design and knit for their richer friends. I got a Saturday job and my dad did the housework. My parents did their best to protect and provide but it wasn’t easy for my parents who felt blame and shame.

I now not only feel rich but my younger self would know I am rich. I buy expensive coffee, shop at the local farmers market, buy organic food, buy the clothes I want when I want, eat out and go to the theatre, cinema, festivals when I want as I travel from one global hipster hotspot to another.

But yesterday, just after expensive coffee en route to our local expensive lido, I noticed the food bank that had been piled high last week was completely bereft of any food.

In that moment I remembered,

I feel deeply sad that collectively we cannot care and share for everyone. We all still blame war, the market, energy, inflation, Brexit anything and everything when we could eradicate poverty, we really could, if we really tried.

#work #share #endpoverty