Tendring Topics……..on line
Family Friendly?
I
am sick of hearing top (and lower rank) politicians going on and on about
supporting ‘the family’ and hoping thereby to get a few more votes at
forthcoming elections. Politicians (of both main parties) carry the primary
responsibility for the creation of a society that is thoroughly Family
Unfriendly and unlikely to be anything else unless there is a revolutionary
change in society’s outlook.
I
have probably written in this blog before (one of the characteristics of old
age is a tendency to repeat oneself!) that I quite often feel like a time
traveller, a ‘poor man’s Dr Who' perhaps.
I am an early twentieth century
man, born in 1921, who finds himself in the twenty-first century and (although
I fully appreciate, and take every advantage of, the many benefits the present
century offers) still isn’t quite
comfortable with some of the twenty-first century’s practices and attitudes. This is never more so than when I contrast
pre and post World War II attitudes towards marriage and bringing up children.
The
1920s and ‘30s were not a poor-people-friendly time. My mum and dad were poor
though that isn’t how they would have described themselves. There were plenty poorer. My dad was never unemployed and I was always
adequately fed and clothed. In fact, I
was one of the privileged minority, who went to a secondary school and, unlike
most of my contemporaries who were thrown onto the labour market at 14, I
didn’t leave school till I was sixteen. Then, armed with my ‘matric’, I went
straight to a ‘white collar job’. It was
a struggle though and my parents had to watch every penny. They were proud of the fact that they never
had to ‘ask for charity’ and never owed anyone anything.
It
was a family-friendly time though. My
dad went to work and earned enough, with his army pension just enough, to keep us in what I think the
Prayer Book Catechism describes as, ‘that
state of life into which it has pleased God to call us’. My Mum stayed at home, kept the home
clean and welcoming, cooked the meals and ‘made
do and mended’ as all housewives were exhorted to do during World War
II. Before marriage she had been a cook
in an Edwardian household and knew how to cook and how to pickle and
preserve! She was always at home with
a welcoming smile and something on the table when my dad and I arrived home
from work and school. We were a small
and a united family.
In
those days young men ‘courted’ their girl-friends and didn’t ‘ask for their
hand in marriage’ (now there’s a couple of old-fashioned phrases you don’t
hear nowadays!) until they were earning enough to support both of them. Once married their roles were clear. The husband was ‘the breadwinner’ and went
out to work every day to earn sufficient to keep them both. The young wife stayed at home, cooked the
meals and – in due course – had children.
They were a family, and a great many of them were quite content with
their lot. My dad, who had been a
Regimental Sergeant-Major in the army – and the senior non-commissioned officer
in the small garrison town in which I was born was – I think – disappointed with his lowly job as
clerk, dispenser, veterinary nurse and general dogsbody in a local veterinary
practice. My mum had married my dad ‘for
better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health’ and was, I am pretty certain, content with her lot. They were
both very proud of me and hoped I would ‘better’ myself. I suppose that I have, though I doubt very
much if I’ve ever been any happier than they were.
When
I married in 1946, it never even occurred to either of us that my new wife –
who had been secretary to the Managing Director of a large firm of printers –
would continue to work. I was the ‘bread
winner’ and she was the ‘home maker.’ Throughout
our sixty years of marriage I always managed, though it was sometimes a
struggle, to ‘win enough bread’ to keep my wife and, in due course, our two sons
in modest comfort though certainly never in luxury. She was always at home, ready to listen to their stories of school and play, and prepared to give an
experienced hand with their homework, when our sons came home from school. She
was always ready, with a meal on the table, when I came home from work. We lived and brought up our two sons in
‘family friendly’ times.
I
really think that ours was the last generation able to do so. First of all came the idea that in order ‘to keep up with the Jones’s’ young wives
should continue in work until the first baby arrived. Then it became quite acceptable for a young
wife to carry on working after
children were born. I think this dated
from the time when – eager for custom – banks and building societies decided
that they would loan money for home purchase on the basis of a multiple of the
family’s total income, and not just the income of ‘the breadwinner’,. Proper
arrangements were needed, of course, for child care. This helped some working couples to ‘get
their feet on the home ownership ladder’ but, since it increased the demand for
home purchase without increasing the number of houses for sale, inevitably
pushed up the price of houses. That was a trend which – with a pause during the
period of recession – continues to this day.
Imperceptibly (I think it gathered momentum during the years of Thatcher rule in the 1980s) it became not only acceptable – but expected – that young mothers should get back to work ‘to help create wealth’ as soon as possible after the birth of a baby. It has become increasingly difficult for a family to survive on one income alone. How can family life hope to flourish when parents both come home weary from a day’s work and see their children, if they’re at home when the parents return, only for a few hours in each evening? This system, I believe, is responsible not only for the break-up of family life, but for gang culture, juvenile crime and anti-social behaviour, and teenage pregnancies.
No,
I’m not suggesting that we should return to the ways of the 1930s where women
were regarded as inferior to men and virtually barred from some professions. I
believe that women can excel in any job or profession that demands something
more than brute force and blind obedience. We will soon have women bishops. One day I hope we’ll have a woman Archbishop
of Canterbury! Women are uniquely child-bearers though and I believe that many,
though by no means all, women do find home making and bringing up
children a thoroughly satisfying and fulfilling career. They too are helping to
make Britain
a better country in which to live. This should be recognised and made
financially possible. Only policies that
work toward this end can properly be described as ‘family friendly’.
The Shadow of a Doubt?
A
recent email from a blog reader says that the activities of IS (Islamic State
terrorists) in Iraq must surely present problems to Quakers like myself who
look for a non-violent solution to every difficult situation and believe that
no-one is one hundred percent evil.
I
wouldn’t pretend that it doesn’t.
Central to my, admittedly sometimes shaky, Quaker faith is the
conviction that we all, every man, woman and child in the world, rich and poor
alike and whatever our race, colour or creed, have a divine spark (early
Quakers called it the ‘inward light of Christ’) within us. St.
John refers to it in the first chapter of his gospel
as ‘the true light’ that enlightens everyone
who comes into the world. It shines
in the darkness of the world and the darkness cannot overwhelm it. It is the instinct that urges us to
compassion, friendship, generosity, and forgiveness, and away from hatred,
violence, greed and vengeance.
During
my long life, in the army and as a civilian; as a prisoner of war and as a free
man, I have become acquainted with folk of every religion and none, and of
every nationality – Germans, Italians, Russians, Serbs, Arabs, Turks, Chinese,
Indians and Pakistanis, black and white Africans and North and South
Americans. Not all of them I would
particularly like to meet again – but neither did any of them persuade me that
the Quaker conviction that every one of them had ‘that of God’ within them was
false.
I
have only met members of IS on a tv screen and that was quite near enough. War
is defiling. Every nation at war, at
some time or another, performs acts that are clearly, I can’t think of a better
word, ‘sinful’. We could, no doubt, all
list the ‘crimes against humanity’ of the Germans, the Russians, the Chinese
and Japanese – but how about the blanket bombing of German cities, full of
civilians, towards the end of World War II by the British and Americans? What about the dropping of the atom bomb on Hiroshima by the Americans with British approval and
support – and, after seeing the devastation wrought by that atom bomb, dropping
another such bomb on Nagasaki ?
Those who have committed these crimes against humanity know full well they have
done so and either deny their guilt or try to justify it. ‘Our blanket bombing of Germany and the two atom bombs on Japan hastened
the war’s end and may have saved untold numbers of lives’. They may
have!
Members
of IS though are unique among war criminals.
They not only commit unspeakable atrocities but glory in having done so
– posting pictures of themselves on the internet with the broken bodies and severed heads of
their victims. And they
claim that their actions will earn them God's approval.. I can think of nothing more likely to provoke God's wrath! They are surely
uniquely evil - and among them are believed to be some 500 young men born, brought up and educated in
the UK !
I
like to think that the inward light of God does still smoulder deep within the
hearts of these evil men – and can somehow be rekindled. Meanwhile their activities must be halted, and
their victims protected and helped back to normal life. I can't bring myself to criticise those who resort to violent means to achieve this, but I have observed that such violent means rarely, if ever, achieve their
objectives. I applaud those who bring humanitarian aid to the victims and I give as generously as I can to those who do this work. Otherwise, and at my age, all I can do is to pray. And, who knows? Perhaps that is the most effective thing I could do.