Reasons to Keep Fighting
On Thursday evening I sat, heart beating madly, and watched the votes come on for the Tuition Fees rise. I could hear Tweetdeck in the background as everyone else I knew did the same thing. In the back of my mind, I could hear the chanting from the streets of London that I’d just been watching on BBC News, and been following on Twitter. I did not like believing what I was hearing.
There seems, to me, a very distinct difference between the coalition’s opinion of the word “fair” and mine. Fair is not pricing education according to standard. Fair is not a mortgage-size debt for getting an education. Fair is not lack of access programs for underpriveledged kids. Fair is not 9,000 students being forcibly kettled, trampled, and beaten whilst 21 men in suits tutted and took their futures away. 28, to be in fact. So what the hell is this?
I’m afraid this is unfair. This is beyond unfair – it’s catastrophic. After all the work done, for the past 50 years, to reduce the social stratification in this country, one paper has taken all the hope away from those who had only just realised they were just as good as the children Westminster and Eton, those who have only just recovered from a culture where education wasn’t for them, and realised it is their only escape from the poverty trap.
I felt sick. My heart hurt. I ached for my little sister, for everyone with the misfortune to be two years younger than me, and to have to feel the brunt force of Tory ideology crashing down on their heads; just as hard as a policeman’s baton.
On Thursday night, I cried my eyes out as I watched heartbroken kids chant “The Tories fucked our lives”, because it’s true, and they have a right to be angry. The Tories, among whose number Nick Clegg and the rest of the “Liberals” who walked through the aye door without even casting their eyes at the students in the crush outside are definitely counted, have. And there’s only one solution.
I dried my eyes, and I picked up my phone. I watched as the Twitpics flowed, image after image of torn, burnt Liberal Democrat membership cards. And I mobilized. I rang every member in the North West whose email address was missing from my list. I rang and tried to get a server so I could email them all. I sat, rearranging spreadsheets, ringing round, desperate to mobilize a mass group of young, and undoubtedly angry activists, to change something.
My sister is 13 years old. She can’t do this for herself – she barely even realises what’s just happened, that whilst she was busy doing her Art homework in her dressing gown someone decided to treble the trouble she’s going to have in life – just because she’s in our family, from our background. I won’t stand for that. I won’t stand for anything like that. I know the tuition fee rise may not affect me personally. But I’m not fighting for myself; that’s not the way of the Labour Party, not at all. I’m fighting for the people who can’t fight for themselves.
We overturned the poll tax. So get out on the streets, out onto Social Media. Join the Labour Party. Grit your teeth and raise your placard and tell the Government that we aren’t standing for it. They aren’t fighting for their children; we are. And that makes us better people than them. So go on. Go.
Filed under: Uncategorized | 3 Comments