I've been told a few times in the last few years that I'm too political. Usually by men, if I'm honest, but the occasional woman, too. It's always by fellow white folk, though. So, I wanted to work out what that means. People often don’t want to discuss things that make them uncomfortable. Or maybe they feel powerless and don’t like to be reminded of that?
I feel that as a single woman in her 30s, with no children, and having spent her adult life working in predominantly male fields, my very existence is political. The air I breathe is political, and it’s polluted.
As a little girl, I wore “boys” pants with the pee hole sewn up because I found the frills and bows on knickers uncomfortable. Apparently, that was ‘quirky’, but now it’s a cultural war issue.
Even after I was sent to the Convent school, I refused to get confirmed at age 13 unless my Mum bought me my first Wonderbra, which was a somewhat political statement. But mainly, I wanted to look more like the Virgin Mary in the paintings for my ‘big day.’
If you’d asked me then about politics, I’d have had no clue, except I remember being not very happy when my Dad told me the then President of the United States, George Bush 2, was also dyslexic, but that was because people in the UK seemed to mock him despite going into war with him.
As I got older, I didn't attend the student protests in the UK. “Too busy with my trombone practice,” I said. Yet, at age 19, I did challenge a music college for sexual harassment and a culture of misogyny years before Metoo. And I guess that was political.
And like a lot of white women before me, I didn’t question what it was like for women of colour or other minorities because I was at a classical music college now, and there were no women of colour.
But my next-door neighbour Tom, a black man, helped me write the letter to the Principal, as he was our only university-educated family friend. I remember receiving an apology from the Principal, and then I transferred institutions. But, I remember thinking letters of apology meant nothing as the culture in the music schools still hadn’t changed, and I still got chased around the classroom by an aural teacher wanting a kiss.
I still don’t believe the orchestral world and world of classical education have had a metoo movement. I think I ruffled feathers by saying that in a teaching interview. Along with, “the problem with music education in the UK is that middle-class people design it for working-class kids.” I stand by my point. I think, however, it created a question mark on my name. I think long ago, I accepted that the institution would probably not be for me. It’s certainly not built for me.
But still, I've never seen myself as that political; I’m pretty blunt, apparently, and I still like to ask questions.
To this day, I’m not a member of any political party. I’m pretty bad with politicians' names and find parliamentary gossip tedious. I don’t want editors and producers to help them curate a human image on entertainment shows; I want them to focus on doing their jobs better than future book sales. Maybe I just never have looked up to a politician. I haven’t found a wonderful one yet that speaks to me.
I do, however, feel like I have a general knowledge of world politics and affairs; well, I have a basic understanding. I know where the dictators are, I know which countries are the economic players, which European countries are in coalitions with far-right groups, and I know where the genocides are and most of the wars. But I’m no expert, and I don’t pretend to be. I try to follow the best I can. I often feel like I’ve woken up a lot in my thirties, and I’m just googling, “Sorry, where is Britain funding? Oh seriously? Fuck. Again?”
But I guess if I were an ageing feral beauty pageant contestant, I’d try and have more decorum and say things like,
“I'm against bombing children; I'm against empire.”
I remember my Uncle telling me at 12 that I was “going to upset a lot of people because I asked too many questions.”
At my Dad's wedding a couple of years ago, his cousin came up to me and said, "I haven't seen you since you were this high."
He held out his hand, indicating that, our last meet, I must have been a tiny child, with a height of about aged 9,
"You remember what you called me?" He laughed
"No," I said. I mean, I barely recognised him.
"You called me a fascist." He roared.
Right…
But then I'd sat next to another dad’s cousin at the wedding, and it had been going alright. He was warm to me, unlike some other family members. I vaguely remember him doing a good Donald Duck impression as a child, but then he ruined it and said something racist, and I didn't laugh.
I drank my way through the wedding, my alcoholism at its peak and went to bed after my Dad's best mate went on a rant to my new younger stepbrother about how we have a housing crisis because of "the women."
The only black guest was my old next-door neighbour, Tom. We were the first to leave the wedding the next day, which speaks volumes.
When I pointed that out to my Dad, he blinked at me blankly. The way Keir Starmer does when he tells us to be prepared for austerity, and we're all like, “Why? Why is it that the poorest will suffer again, Sir?”
Sometimes, I want to block out the world; sometimes, that is needed. I don't think we can doom scroll all day long and be helpful to anyone. But I do honestly believe we're in a dangerous time right now. We've all been saying it. Israel, Russia. “Germany has neglected the East”, the AfD say. “The West has erased their culture,” they say. Like France, scarily more youth are voting for the far right, a literal Nazi party. Germany has always been divided. How many of us know the history of Prussia? There is so much history to it and the unbalanced politics of late-imperial Germany. I know our monarchies were linked to supplement the British Empire before the Brits turned to America. But where there is a history of colonisation, I ask this. Maybe we should listen to the fears of those who aren’t white. It’s the manipulative mob mentality they fear, from the hatred of Africans to Islamophobia.
I’ve toured Europe multiple times. Like the UK, a lot of these countries are 80% white, with only multiculturalism in the cities. The stats don’t even make sense, yet immigration is demonised, never the wealthy elite. It’s as if we’ve given up on critique of them, as they are untouchable, so we’ve turned our resentment to a face that doesn’t look like ours.
I'm aware that in America (which I mention as where they go internationally, we the UK go), a country built on immigrants, if Kamala doesn't somehow appeal to and speak to the young blue-collar white male, the difference in views and political alliance between the genders will widen. And it’s a bloody big country; those views will be polarising.
From my experience with the two American men I have dated this year, both made a big deal about splitting the bill “for feminism.” But the way they said it made me feel uncomfortable. What has got their backs up? They were college-educated men with parents who were way more educated than mine. But it's all a big game, politics. It's a big manipulative game playing with people’s emotions and lives. If I’d stayed living in Florida thirteen years ago, married the drummer, my ovaries and womb and the right to access abortion past six weeks are now in the hands of Donald Trump playing cards. Again, my body has just been made political.
I'm friends with some political comics and commentators. I wish I could write poetry like Musa Okwonga or Hollie McNish; I wish I could be as funny as Rosie Holt in satirising the Tories or as damningly articulate as Frankie Boyle in my statements. I have applauded comics like him and Jen Brister for using their platform to call for a ceasefire in Gaza, and I have attended marches in London when I have been in town. In the meantime, I have tried to read and share support on social media. While prospective and past employers track my social media. But for me, it’s the least I can do. It doesn’t feel as effective as my sister-in-law, an anaesthetist working for Doctors Without Borders, who has been working at a hospital in Gaza that probably no longer stands. But I know many of my friends and followers don’t follow the news, so I like to keep the happenings in their consciousness.
Maybe you're like, “Well, what does my sharing of a post, an interesting news article, or a different viewpoint I hadn’t thought of matter on social media? I can't change anything. My silence isn’t violence!” Well, is it compliance, then? I’m not attacking; I’m asking questions again.
Because I ask you this now, hypothetically.
What happens here in Europe and the UK if we do swing far-right over the next decade? And a mass loss of life happens, and we're all devastated about it. What are we going to do after,
"Pay our respects?"
Or if Americans say our "thoughts and prayers" are with the victims.
“Never again” we all will cry.
Suppose we go back to World War Two. Imagine what would have happened if the Brits hadn’t won the blitz. And we were invaded? Became an occupied country. What would you have done? Would you have given up your Jewish neighbours? To avoid putting your own family at risk?
Denmark, for example, gave their Jewish neighbours the heads up before they were rounded up and taken to camps. Norway didn't. After the war, occupied countries completely demonised and ostracised the young woman who had consorted with the Nazi soldiers. When I read up on it, it feels like the women those ‘German girls” as they were called (well, teenagers and women under 25) were taking the brunt of the shame and guilt of a nation. Anni-Frid Lyngstad of Abba, her mother, was one of these girls. Think about that when you next hear the song ‘Knowing Me, Knowing You.’
So I leave you with one last question: If civilisation seems to keep repeating itself, but there are more of us “normal good people," perhaps it is best to do some reading and speak up now?
Share a post, cross-reference your news, and stay informed, especially if you want to avoid your own Sophie's Choice in the future when the police come knocking.
It's probably easier to speak up now, right?
Keep using your platform Faye- you’re braver than most of us - and better informed- keep asking those questions and challenging us - I’ll join you on the next protest x