So. It has been a while since I last posted a blog post moaning about the working class struggle. I guess I didn’t want to bore you all silly.
I’m still as equally, if not more, bitter about my position in society as i was a year or 2 ago. With the conservative government in, I’m finding the squeeze of the poor intolerable.
Unemployment in the UK is soaring high, with inflation scheduled to rise to unlivable highs. University will now cost £9,000 a year for tuition but with extra teaching cuts, and no extra funds (ema) to help the poorer students at school. They plan to reform the NHS to something we’re not sure what yet – but you can bet your bottom dollar that it will be a shadow of its former self under the labour government. With already 1000’s of jobs cut from within the NHS i predict at least waiting times will be like they were in 1994 (too long!). And if this isn’t enough 20% VAT on top of everything is already taking its course on me.
Despite the apparent ‘ the deficit needs to be cut so grin and bare the cuts- they have to be made’ bullshit, I look to the seeming well off and the banks, and can’t help truly getting super angry. Why not tax them? Why are we allowing HUGE corporations NOT to pay tax. why must the poor pay for the greediness of the rich? I’m not sure whether this is frustration at the system or frustration at my very own lack of agency as an individual whom is supposedly living in a democracy.
Anyways, as per usual I’m getting off my point. You may have seen from my posts of the past 4/5 years that there is nothing more that I’d like to do than the Whitney ISP. However, lets face it. I’m pretty sure they’d look at my application, maybe forward it around to collagues to have a laugh at the audacity that i have to attempt to try and get onto their course before sending out a rejection letter quicker than you can say NO. Oh dear, Working class Smizz.
Yeah. This is my problem. I’m writing the application now. And my identity and my work and view on life and intellectual interests all stem from my working class-ness and the unfair, injustice i have (and billions of others world wide) been through in my persuit to becoming a better citizen, person and artist.
I have endured homelessness (which inspired alot of work on urban planning and social architecture), the raging gap that’s created from being educated in an ex-mining, ex-industrious community, which now has nothing and it’s education and council system equally corrupt. (so i did alot of work with collectives) We were left, nehy, thrown aside and labeled as unimportant. Culturally deprived, i some how managed to clamber to get into university – despite all odds – and found that this too had its affects upon opportunities open to me.(so i set up with friends our own gallery, CAKE) Some tutors, admittedly only a very small few, treated me with disrespect because of my class background. It’s not all doom and gloom of course, i have had the chance of meeting amazing people who have given me invaluable opportunities and time; but i still get over-looked by other people within these opportunities, or other artists/writers steal my ideas (i’m not naming names) – because the fact is. I am NO ONE. a nobody. i geddit. And it is still this lack of confidence, this lack of an elaborate language code and backwards social and writing abilities that still hinder me even post-degree onwards.
my very small family has no links or connections to the better world. there’s not even normal jobs that are flexible out there to help my mission as an artist. we’re lucky if we make all the bills 2 months in a row.
my backwards writing style is STILL holding me back in my attempt to write a kick-ass ISP application. I’m left thinking, do I go on about my working class background, after all, it is WHO I AM. It is why i can see the things most people can not. but will they care? in fact does anyone out there care about the inequalities in the labor force, how this affects your living conditions and area, relative poverty, how cultural deprivation follows you way past your schooling.
Doesn’t it sound all too poor small westernized girl, at least you’ve not been brought up in a warzone, or at least you can read and write! I am lucky, but the fact remains. Why is class such a problem? or a ‘no-go’ area. Why can’t I bring myself to write about it in my ISP application? Am I worried that I will open a can of worms, or that it will become just a self loathing blame game of why i’m a shite artist? Would you accept a 22 year old artist onto your prestigious course who was homeless 7 years ago, who had to keep 2 jobs down afterwards whilst doing exams to help out her mom who had cancer & on seperate occasions a victim of domestic abuse, who has had to prove a to alot of people that she is actually worth 20 minutes of their time?
I guess I will tell you after my 2nd draft. But I will tell you this, rejection is nothing new – and I believe that it helps me strive to becoming a better artist. And this is why, despite my anxiety and fear of my inabilities as a person and artist I am still applying for something I have like a 0.0000000000000000000056 % chance on getting on to. But we all gotta dream!
“Real failure comes to those who accept their status quo, who do not press against their limitations.” -Mira Schor