I always knew I would work for the family business when I grew up. My dad was a butcher, my granddad was a butcher, my great granddad was a butcher and my great, great granddad was an artist but we don’t talk about him much.
We did alright, our family. I went to a decent school, had all the proper clothes and smart shoes. There were plenty of kids that couldn’t afford the school uniform then, but I could. Yeah, my family did alright. I even went to footy club after school on a Friday. Those clubs aren’t cheap. That were £3 a week, straight outta the pocket. Speaking of pockets, I got pocket money too. There weren’t many kids who got pocket money, that’s for sure. I used to spend 50p on sweets every week. That was the life. They were good times.
I remember when the Supermarket came. Everyone does, it changed everyone’s lives. I don’t know anyone that wanted a Supermarket. Our town already had a greengrocers and a corner shop. Nice family owned that corner shop too, I knew their kid well, that Clive Andrews. Like I said, I dunno who wanted the Supermarket. I think I heard someone talking about convenience once. I don’t see what’s convenient about a half hour search for half a pint o’ milk. Bloody ridiculous.
Yeah, everyone’s lives changed. Our mam couldn’t get us them smart shoes anymore. I felt that one alright. I used to get wet feet walking home from school, all those holes in me shoes. And football, that were a thing of the past. Corse we still played it in the park but I couldn’t go to footy club no more. And I had to leave the team.
We weren’t the worst off by any means. We still have our butchers shop and I still have 50 pence to spend on sweets a week. I gave that 50 pence to the Andrew’s corner shop every Monday ,whether I wanted sweets or not. Did everything I could to keep them going. It weren’t enough though. They lost everything, their shop, their house. I haven’t seen Clive Andrews for a good long time. Guess he moved school. He never said nothing.
My Dad would make a joke out of it. I know he was scared we would lose our business but he’s popular in the neighbourhood and he still does everything he can to keep us going. The other day, he put a big sign up saying our rump steak had been reduced to £1.50. It weren’t long before the Supermarket reduced their rump steak to £1.49. So he put it right down to £1, and the Supermarket put theirs down to 99 pence. That’s when he put it his down to 50 pence. The very same day we had an official looking man come down from the Supermarket and march right into our shop. He said “this is ridiculous, it has to stop. Surely you can’t afford to sell your rump steak at 50p?”
My dad said to him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about sir; it’s not costing us anything”.
The Supermarket bloke looked confused. “Surely it costs you more than you’re selling it for just to buy it in?” he asked. “You must be losing money”.
And my dad said “I don’t know how you mean sir, we don’t sell rump steak”. Then my dad looked at me and we laughed and laughed. The supermarket man went bright red in the face, and we laughed even more!
Then he said, “well what do you say to people when they come in to your shop looking to buy rump steak? You know as well as I do that false advertisement is illegal”.
“Simple”, said dad. “We tell ‘em they can buy it that cheap at the Supermarket. Our sign doesn’t say we sell it here, sir. Now I don’t mean to be rude but I’ve got customers to serve. Good day to you.”
It's not a joke though. I started this by saying I always knew I would work for the family business one day but that's not true anymore. Anything could happen to us now. I just hope I always have somewhere to live, that's all I can ask for really. God have mercy on us.
Tuesday, 24 April 2012
1.
I guess my experience centres around the army. I’ve wanted to be in the army since I was a little girl. Who wants to play hopscotch when you can play soldiers? I always wanted to stretch myself, to be the strongest, the fastest, the fittest.
It never occurred to me that girls and boys should do different things or play different games. My best friend was a boy and he much preferred hopscotch. My parents always encouraged me to do what I enjoyed, and I enjoyed fighting. A few of the kids at school called me a tomboy. It didn’t bother me, I didn’t think it made any sense. Why did playing rough make me like a boy? We like what we like. They were obviously just stupid.
Turns out they only get more stupid as they grow up. When I joined cadets, I was one of only a few girls. I don’t know how old I was when I joined but I was old enough to understand why. It’s all to do with how you’re brought up; turns out most peoples parents do care what their children like. Girls are made to wear pink, grow their hair long and wear pretty dresses. They play clapping games and skipping games, they get Barbie dolls for Christmas. Boys wear blue, they have short hair and they get to wear trousers all year round. They play footy and rugby, they get Action men for Christmas. I used to get Action men too, they were way cooler than Barbie dolls, they actually did stuff. My sister was more into Barbie, but that never bothered me. Like I said, we like what we like, I just appreciate that my sister and I had a choice.
No-one treated me any different in cadets. I kept on being the strongest, the fastest and the fittest. I’ve always been competitive, I like to be the best at everything. Man, by the time I had to leave to do the real thing, I didn’t think there was anything I couldn’t already do. I could shoot, I could parachute, I could fly a plane!
So I began the army enrolment process. It was pretty easy; I was everything they were looking for. I passed the fitness tests no problem and it wasn’t long before I got asked back for a second interview, for a scholarship. It was during this interview I learnt something that bothered me. The guy asking the questions mentioned something about ‘lowering the bar’ for female applicants. I actually had no idea what he was talking about. He looked at me as if what he said was self-explanatory, but I grilled him about it. He said females aren’t required to reach the same physical targets as the men. I was shocked. Not just shocked, I was disgusted. All my life I’ve worked to be the best. I am just as strong, if not stronger, than most of the blokes applying. The implication that it is somehow acceptable for women not to reach that level of fitness had a tremendous effect on me. It’s one thing, growing up and just accepting your ‘gender role’, but to have it actively enforced upon you is something else. If I could exceed the targets imposed on the men, so can any woman. I’m not big, I’m only 5 ft 3 and I have a small frame. But I AM strong. I’m not afraid of getting muscly. I have muscles and I want to use them! I’m faster than everyone I know. I’ve got good reflexes, I’ve got good eyesight. I’m not just born lucky, I’m not an exceptional female, I’ve worked hard and I think everyone else ought to work just as hard.
The interviewer bloke seemed impressed by my reaction. He was a bit patronising but I think he liked my passion. He said the army has to lower the bar just to encourage female applicants, and they can’t suddenly remove it because it will put women off even more. I told him that’s rubbish. They should get rid of it. Women should be accepted on equal terms. You’re never gonna reach equality without it.
But hey, that was a long time ago now. Things got even worse since then. I don’t wanna bore you with my life story but I’ll give you the gist of it. I was offered a place in the army and of course I accepted it. I was more determined than ever to prove myself now. Before I was just proving myself as a person, suddenly I felt I had to prove myself as a woman. It’s funny, I always noticed different things were expected of women but I just ignored it. When I had that interview, it got personal. It really opened my eyes. I thought being a strong individual was enough to challenge perceptions, but I was only trying to change people’s perceptions of me. Not of my gender. I guess I just got conscripted into the biggest war of my life.
The generals, the sergeants, the colonels, all the ranks, whatever the rank, they’re all men and they’re all sexist wankers. They talk to us women like we’re cretins. Like we’re weaker because we have wombs. Maybe women are naturally weaker, I reckon it’s because that’s how society has always encouraged us to be, we’ve never needed to be much stronger to survive so we haven’t evolved that way. Whatever, the point I’m trying to make is that I am a woman and I am not weak, so I will not tolerate being told I am. When they make their nasty comments at me I say something. I always say something. And then I get punished. Drills. Push-ups. Squats. Standard stuff. Sometimes they make sexist comments just because they know I’ll dig myself a hole. They want to punish someone, and they want to feel like they have control over the female in the ranks by making her do what she’s told. Well I’ll do every push-up they throw at me. Just makes me stronger. They’re only proving my point. Even if they don’t notice, there are plenty of people that do. Some of the men have really started to notice: they can’t all do 200 push-ups in a minute. I can.
Turns out they only get more stupid as they grow up. When I joined cadets, I was one of only a few girls. I don’t know how old I was when I joined but I was old enough to understand why. It’s all to do with how you’re brought up; turns out most peoples parents do care what their children like. Girls are made to wear pink, grow their hair long and wear pretty dresses. They play clapping games and skipping games, they get Barbie dolls for Christmas. Boys wear blue, they have short hair and they get to wear trousers all year round. They play footy and rugby, they get Action men for Christmas. I used to get Action men too, they were way cooler than Barbie dolls, they actually did stuff. My sister was more into Barbie, but that never bothered me. Like I said, we like what we like, I just appreciate that my sister and I had a choice.
No-one treated me any different in cadets. I kept on being the strongest, the fastest and the fittest. I’ve always been competitive, I like to be the best at everything. Man, by the time I had to leave to do the real thing, I didn’t think there was anything I couldn’t already do. I could shoot, I could parachute, I could fly a plane!
So I began the army enrolment process. It was pretty easy; I was everything they were looking for. I passed the fitness tests no problem and it wasn’t long before I got asked back for a second interview, for a scholarship. It was during this interview I learnt something that bothered me. The guy asking the questions mentioned something about ‘lowering the bar’ for female applicants. I actually had no idea what he was talking about. He looked at me as if what he said was self-explanatory, but I grilled him about it. He said females aren’t required to reach the same physical targets as the men. I was shocked. Not just shocked, I was disgusted. All my life I’ve worked to be the best. I am just as strong, if not stronger, than most of the blokes applying. The implication that it is somehow acceptable for women not to reach that level of fitness had a tremendous effect on me. It’s one thing, growing up and just accepting your ‘gender role’, but to have it actively enforced upon you is something else. If I could exceed the targets imposed on the men, so can any woman. I’m not big, I’m only 5 ft 3 and I have a small frame. But I AM strong. I’m not afraid of getting muscly. I have muscles and I want to use them! I’m faster than everyone I know. I’ve got good reflexes, I’ve got good eyesight. I’m not just born lucky, I’m not an exceptional female, I’ve worked hard and I think everyone else ought to work just as hard.
The interviewer bloke seemed impressed by my reaction. He was a bit patronising but I think he liked my passion. He said the army has to lower the bar just to encourage female applicants, and they can’t suddenly remove it because it will put women off even more. I told him that’s rubbish. They should get rid of it. Women should be accepted on equal terms. You’re never gonna reach equality without it.
But hey, that was a long time ago now. Things got even worse since then. I don’t wanna bore you with my life story but I’ll give you the gist of it. I was offered a place in the army and of course I accepted it. I was more determined than ever to prove myself now. Before I was just proving myself as a person, suddenly I felt I had to prove myself as a woman. It’s funny, I always noticed different things were expected of women but I just ignored it. When I had that interview, it got personal. It really opened my eyes. I thought being a strong individual was enough to challenge perceptions, but I was only trying to change people’s perceptions of me. Not of my gender. I guess I just got conscripted into the biggest war of my life.
The generals, the sergeants, the colonels, all the ranks, whatever the rank, they’re all men and they’re all sexist wankers. They talk to us women like we’re cretins. Like we’re weaker because we have wombs. Maybe women are naturally weaker, I reckon it’s because that’s how society has always encouraged us to be, we’ve never needed to be much stronger to survive so we haven’t evolved that way. Whatever, the point I’m trying to make is that I am a woman and I am not weak, so I will not tolerate being told I am. When they make their nasty comments at me I say something. I always say something. And then I get punished. Drills. Push-ups. Squats. Standard stuff. Sometimes they make sexist comments just because they know I’ll dig myself a hole. They want to punish someone, and they want to feel like they have control over the female in the ranks by making her do what she’s told. Well I’ll do every push-up they throw at me. Just makes me stronger. They’re only proving my point. Even if they don’t notice, there are plenty of people that do. Some of the men have really started to notice: they can’t all do 200 push-ups in a minute. I can.
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