Even when people acknowledge some children miss out on basic privileges, they don’t always accept this comes from money being in short supply.
When funding free school meals for children in poverty during school holidays was being discussed, some politicians had difficulty understanding the impact poverty has on running a home. The leader of Walsall council, Mike Bird, commented: “I do not believe there is not enough money in the kitty” for families to feed their own children. “I’m sorry, it’s not going to work with me. Marks and Spencer are supposed to be the most expensive for food but you can buy three meals for £7 there.“
There is a belief that poverty is an option. Families have the money but spend it on something else - cigarettes, alcohol, TV, playstations.
Well, they are partially correct. The money is spent on something else - something more important than food.
Anecdote
After 18 months living in the block of maisonettes we moved into a terraced council house on a street at the edge of our estate.
A council house in the '90s was a home straight out of the 1960s. The recessions of the ‘70s and ‘80s (don’t believe the toffs when they say there was a boom in the ‘80s) meant council houses were not updated for decades. Our house had no boiler, no hot water on tap or a shower. The only room with heating was the living room. My bedroom still had single glazed windows with wooden frames. The windows in my bedroom had rotted creating gaps where the wind came in.
I usually did my homework in the living room in front of the gas fire but on occasions I’d need more space and the only option was the desk in my bedroom. We would put on our coats to go upstairs. Even so, it was too cold to sit and study for any length of time. After ten minutes my hands would be numb.
I found a workaround: I would sit on my hands to warm them and, when the feeling came back, I would quickly write what I could before putting my hands under my legs again. This gave me an advantage. It would take me longer to do my homework and that meant information had more time to sink in. I was forced to think before I started writing, which, in the days before word processors, was a good technique for learning more effectively.
I never thought about privilege at that age. I didn’t think to compare my social standing to others at school or further afield. I didn’t even know “social standing” was a thing.
My school was in the middle of our council estate. The range of wealth was narrow: a few children had branded trainers; a few children didn’t get fed at home; most of us fell somewhere in between.
Before starting the first lesson of the morning, the teacher would walk around the classroom selling biscuits for 2p. The idea was to stop stomachs rumbling by making sure every child had some food inside them, especially those who had not eaten since their free school meal the previous lunch time. The teacher contrived a way of giving biscuits to the most hungry, “Oh! That one has fallen out; you’d better have it, save it going in the bin.” The teacher could tell which kids were not being fed at home, but you can’t selectively hand out biscuits. That would identify and stigmatise the children whose parents can’t afford food.
My friend Robert was built like a jockey’s whip yet he would pack away huge quantities of food at lunchtime. He would always go back for seconds, even if the dinner ladies were serving the last dregs of cold mash potato. Thursday was bangers-and-mash day and Robert would go up for thirds. 6 sausages in total! We made fun of him because of his slight stature, “where do you put it all?” we’d joke.
At home one evening my mom was cooking some sausages for our family dinner.
“How many sausages do you want?” Mom asked.
I’d never been asked this before. “4 please,” I said, in a surprised tone.
Mom laughed, “You can’t eat 4. There’s 8 for all of us. I mean do you want 1 or 2.”
“I could eat 4,” I protested, “my friend Robert has 6 for lunch.”
“Robert eats 6 because it’s the only meal he gets,” Mom replied.
Mom looked mortified about what she’d just said. I was puzzled because I didn’t understand the implication. She bent down to whisper in my ear – even though there was no one else in the kitchen, it’s not the done thing to talk of other people’s poverty.
“When Robert goes home ... he doesn’t always get an evening meal.”
It was a moment where the innocence of childhood is shattered. I can only compare it to the first time someone tells you Santa doesn’t exist. A sudden cocktail of emotions - the shock of the truth, anger at being lied to and the embarrassment of being so gullible. The truth was always there: some children starve. I knew that from watching the news. I just didn’t expect children in the UK to go hungry. A glimpse of the horrors of life came into view.
Looking back, I realise my social standing was good for the area. I always had food, clean clothes and the opportunity to go to school.
Discussion
When you have enough money to survive, attention turns to luxuries which offer an improved quality of life or a return on investment.
Nice clothes are necessary for landing a good job which can increase your income considerably. Access to the internet expands your learning opportunities and provides new skills. Having a car saves you time commuting and widens prospects for job hunting. A holiday or a night out on the town are for pure enjoyment; they improve your quality of life.
These items may seem like necessities but are actually optional extras to a middle-class lifestyle. When middle class people think of ‘being strapped for cash’ they imagine having to cut back on those luxuries. It’s understandable that they picture people struggling to afford these things when the subject of poverty is raised.
When you live in poverty the quality of life becomes irrelevant; life is all about survival.
Survival experts teach priorities using the rule of 3.
You can survive:
- 3 minutes without air.
- 3 hours without shelter.
- 3 days without water.
- 3 weeks without food.
Notice that food is at the bottom of that list. You don’t need to eat today. You don’t even need to eat this week. However, one night out in the cold - even with a full stomach - can be fatal. That is why in a survival situation you build a shelter before going to look for water and food. And it is why paying your rent comes before buying food.
The rules of the wilderness still apply in civilised locations. Whether living under a log teepee or in a flat made of bricks and mortar, shelter is more important than food. This concept was succinctly described by my mom, who passed on this advice to me from her parents: “pay your rent first, make sure you have a roof over your head, even if all you have to eat is a piece of toast”.
It can be difficult to believe that a working family can have an income yet not afford shelter and food, but keep in mind:
- Your wages must cover your rent before you can buy food.
- The cost of rent does not decrease in proportion to your income.
Rent accounts for over half of a poor family’s income and, after paying utility bills, that can leave nothing for food. That’s when you have to choose between heating and eating.
When short-sighted politicians judge those in poverty as having spent the money on something else, the reality is that the 'something else' is shelter. People do not frivolously choose to go without food or visit food banks. At this point on the survival pyramid there is desperation, not a plan to divert spending to fancy goods. Food poverty is not a lifestyle choice.