I grew up in the working class/lower middle class suburb of Bristol called Brislington. Although emerging from school with one ‘O’ level was hardly a stellar achievement, the chances were there for me to better myself in education, in work and in life. That I did not, or rather was not able, to take advantage of them is neither here nor there. The point is that although there was a dead end in so many parts of my life, there didn’t have to be. I thought about that this weekend when we spent time in some west Wales seaside towns. I couldn’t help but thinking the kind of opportunities I squandered simply were not there for local kids.
There appeared to be very few young people in Aberdovey where we stayed, other than young waitresses, hotel staff and children on holiday with their parents. I have seen many other small towns like this which exist solely for the tourist and because of the tourist. There was literally nothing else for young people to do, even if there were more than a few of them in town.
Up the road in Barmouth, there were plenty of young people. A pretty town, it nonetheless looked sleepy and you couldn’t imagine how it could ever wake up again. There were amusement arcades and various other types of entertainment, as well as pubs and numerous takeaways. However, if you are young and lived here, or in any of the nearby towns and villages nearby, what would you do?
I saw no signs of major, or even minor industry. There was little by way of public sector activity, either. An aspirational young person, wanting to get on in life, buy a house and a car and live happily ever after, how would you do it? I watched the youngsters, chatting away on their mobile phones, swaggering with the self-confidence and indestructible self-belief that comes with youth and I wondered what would happen next.
It could be Barmouth, it could be anywhere small and relatively isolated. Towns and villages that have been left behind my our changing lifestyles and choices and by how the country is run. Then you’d look at the big cities and think, “I want a bit of that.” I am sure that many young people do. And you can see why. They’d want a better life, just like migrants from a different country. But will they get it? I have no answers to this.
The de-industrialisation of our country has come at a huge cost. Since the era of Thatcher, her children (not literally her children) make almost nothing and the country’s wealth depends on the service sector. The service sector in some places exists on a minuscule scale. Like in faded seaside towns.
It felt like another arm of broken and divided Britain. Few of these young people are in the thoughts of our leaders. The fate of a potentially wasted generation will not be in the thoughts of ambitious politicians like Boris Johnson who don’t need people like these. The old Etonians and Oxbridge brigade who control and indeed own our country will always look the other way. Thatcher would have been content to allow cities like Liverpool to wither and die. Today’s politicians don’t even make a conscious decision to let cities, or even people, die. It’s become a given.
Next week it will be school and next year it could be university. Would those who made it away from their seaside towns ever want to come back? Why would they? What would be the point? A good degree in order to wash plates in a cafe, or to stand guard over the dodgems?
Even though I wasn’t equipped to take my chances, at least they were there. For too many kids, there’s nothing around the corner. And part of my heart died as the train rolled out of town.
