My Fear of Working Class Judgement and My Struggle with Working Class Pride

Helloooo,

Took a break from all this for a month or so because my head was in a bad way, I was struggling for motivation and I didn’t want to put out anything I wasn’t happy with completely. This was a tough one for me to write and an even tougher one for me to put out but I thought it would be good to talk about :) as always please be nice lol 

My working class background is something that I have (unknowingly) always tried to deny myself. I grew up in a heavily underprivileged area in North Liverpool, I lived there for 18 years of my life but I never thought of myself as particularly ‘working class’. I thought, until I was about 17/18, that because both my parents were working, holidays abroad were being booked twice a year, and I was getting good grades at school, I was on the lower end of middle class. Even when I was about 7/8, when my family’s financial situation was probably at an all time low and I was got excited about a bin bag full of hand-me-down clothes, I never felt particularly left out when my peers would talk about all the stuff they got bought in town last weekend. The only time I distinctly remember feeling left out in my entire primary school experience was when my best friend at the time was talking about IKEA and I’d never heard of it and secondly when High School Musical came out as a Disney Channel exclusive and I couldn’t watch it because I had Freeview. I still hate Freeview.

I realise now looking back, that the reason that I wasn’t feeling as left out as I arguably should have is because my parents were trying to give me a life as normal as they could. I knew I wasn’t well off but I subconsciously believed I could cover it up by talking about my summer holiday to Greece or my 4 day trip to Disneyland Paris. I didn’t want people to know that I was worse off than them.

This was something that only got worse as I became more and more aware of it as I went into secondary school. My primary school was in the area that I lived in so even though people’s houses were maybe bigger, we were all living in the same area so judgement on that side of things was never really an issue. Going to secondary school however was a big change. I went to a school that was a 30 minute bus ride away from me.  I was making friends and meeting people who were living in different suburbs across Liverpool that I’d never even heard of.  At the time, I was living in a two-up-to-down terraced house that had a damp problem and seeing some of their houses with huge gardens and spare bedrooms really wore me down. This period was probably when I was most embarrassed and (silently) ashamed of where I came from. From then on I’d try to hide that part of myself from everyone. I’d only really invite my best friend to my house and this went on until I was 18; when we moved.

After the move, I found it a lot easier to talk about where I was from and I was inviting people to my home left, right and centre, but it made me, and arguably still makes me, uncomfortable that the only reason I’m able to freely talk about my background is because it can once again be concealed. It’s pretty easy to tell tales of your working class upbringing when you’re sat in a nice 4 bedroom house in Mossley Hill and now that things are good.

I sometimes think about if I would have opened up to people in the same way that I have done over the past 2 years if I was still living in the same house and area and the answer that I repeatedly come to is no.

I can easily talk about my past and my background and I’d even stretch to experiencing feelings of pride; I understand that my circumstances made me and have provided me with a lot of experiences that have helped me in the long run. BUT, I still won’t talk in my university seminars without making an active effort to pronounce all my ‘t’s and my ‘ings’ even though I know I am of the same intellect  and I worry that the only reason I don’t feel any shame any more is because I’ve got a nice house in a nice area and my student loan and part-time job means that I’m no longer missing out on anything, I can afford to help out my mum with rent/keep and I can fund my own (at times frivolous) lifestyle.

So, in an almost Carrie Bradshaw-esque fashion, I’d like to pose the question. Is it possible to truly experience working class pride without somewhat removing yourself from those conditions that you are proud of?

Thank you for reading, I’ll be back sooooooon 😊

(On a more light-hearted note I'm thinking of doing a styling post next time because a few people have asked (for some reason) if anyone has any ideas please let me know!)