Nothing About Us, Without Us, Is For Us

During this General Election Campaign we have heard people living in poverty referred to as scroungers and cheats, and it has been inferred that they are not from, or are somehow fundamentally different from, ‘hard-working families’.  We have also heard that in the UK, one of the richest countries in the world, people were compelled by poverty to use food banks on more than one million occasions in the last year.

Rarely have we heard from people who actually understand poverty, who know what it means to have to choose between putting money in the gas meter or having breakfast in the morning.  We are encouraged to stereotype in one way or another; to blame or to pity - to see people as part of the problem rather than as part of the solution. We are missing out on a wealth of wisdom. It does not have to be this way.

At the Poverty Truth Commission we work differently.  We believe that people experiencing poverty must be at the heart of any strategy designed to overcome it.  We believe that we must listen to and respect each others’ opinions.  That we must take the time to learn what it is like to walk in each other’s shoes.  And that is what we do.  As a Commission we have left our labels and titles at the door and are discovering what it means to say together that nothing about us, without us, is for us.

Therefore, we call on government, the media, political parties and each one of us to stop the culture of blame in this election campaign and in the future.  We challenge you to seek, and to listen to the voices of our poorest citizens as a crucial first step to overcoming poverty and figuring out how to build a better society.

Growing food justice now!

Beyond Food banks Conference 28 February 2015

 

This conference took place in the iconic Pearce Institute in Govan, Glasgow. It was organised by the Church of Scotland, Faith in Community Scotland and the Centre for Human Ecology. They brought together a large number and wide range of people united in their desire to ensure Scotland can change from a situation in which real hunger is suffered, to a situation in which everybody has access to sufficient, nutritious food.
  

We heard Rachel Gray from Toronto, Canada speak eloquently about the ways that the Stop project (launched 35 years ago) has developed from an initial food bank type service into a community in which the provision and sharing of food is a means to reduce social isolation and foster long term relationships. We also anonymously heard from the experiences of two food bank users. One of the  food bank users, who is in part-time employment, reported  ".... I am still using the Food bank now because my housing benefit was stopped....” Security of housing is so crucial for us all and yet it  can be so insecure for those whose benefits are suddenly stopped.

Another food bank user reported her experience of having no employment and her benefit being reduced to just £57 a week while her Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) was reviewed. At this time, after all her bills were paid, she was left with only £7 per week to feed her family of three; she could not do it on such a small amount of money and had to accept referral to a food bank. She said, "I was very reluctant to use the food bank. I would rather have gone without food than use one, but I had to think of my family. I felt ashamed and very upset that my financial situation had sunk so low. I was very depressed which had a big impact on both my physical and mental health."

However as one person commented the real shame is the UK's for creating the economic and social conditions conditions in which food banks flourish; those who use food banks have nothing to be ashamed of. 


It was a stimulating day indeed that got participants thinking and more importantly committing to ideas and actions to combat food poverty and to stop food banks being  accepted as part and parcel of the welfare system. Different ways of fighting food poverty were explored. For example, participants heard about the experience of food co-ops in North Lanarkshire and a prospective community food centre in Ruchazie. Using a variety of such approaches and others, for instance, campaigning work around the General Election, could enable the growth of this emerging food justice movement. Beyond Food Banks successfully marked the beginning and definitely not the end of this process. As a demonstration of this a follow up event  will look at concrete actions or pilot projects etc., so please keep a look out for details.

My Story - part 8

I don’t feel like a strong person.  I’m using food banks and stuff the now and gambling. I want to be strong but I’m not yet, there’s a long way to go.  It’s a long slow road, but it’s a road, not a stop.

I get £104 a fortnight to live off.  Crisis loan repayments and Council Tax comes off that first.  Then £30 to the hostel.  £40 for messages.  I will have to start paying back my old rent arrears if I want a new flat with the Housing Association.  I have very little left at the end of it.  It’s hard to cope.  Even though I get my Housing Benefit, it’s hard times.  Everything is money.  Everything.  And everything is going up apart from what you’ve got in your pocket.  

Sometimes I end up going back the Bookies because I’m desperate to make my money stretch a bit further.  I used to gamble a lot in the past.  It gets a hook in you; it’s like control in the head.  Sometimes it’s like it’s just whispering to you.  But you can never beat a bookie, no matter how hard you try.

They push you and push you at the Job Centre. I’m always worried I’m going to trip up and get sanctioned.  Every time I go in there it’s a worry.

One of our Commissioners gives us a privileged insight into their life. They give us the good and they give us the bad. The story helps us understand poverty a little better. Here is part 8.

I feel trapped because I’m living in a hostel, and if I took a job and lost my Housing Benefit, I wouldn’t be able to pay the hostel.  It would be too hard.  But they don’t listen to me at the Job Centre, I’m just another number. I really want to work, but I don’t know how, and it feels like they’re choking to sanction me.

At times I feel socially excluded out of everything.  I feel like people look down on me because of the way I look, the way I dress.  I start to think in my head that I’m a waste of space.  I might look homeless, but there’s still good inside of me.  Don’t insult my intelligence.  I don’t want people to pity and patronise me when I walk down the street.  I am still a human being.  Every time I get up, get a shower in the morning, get ready, go out, every day is a battle.  Sometimes it really affects my mental health.  But I know there will be low days and try to keep going.

I try not to use food banks because they make me feel worse.  They make me feel low, ashamed, it shows I’m struggling, it feels like another judgement.  I know they’re there to help people, but that’s how they make me feel.  Sometimes I have no option though.

I’m much more than someone who is struggling with money, mental health and homelessness.  I am a singer, an actor, a striver.  My strength is being with people, building relationships, and supporting them.  I know what it is like to be alone and isolated.  

I volunteer with Bridging the Gap in the Gorbals.   I feel happy when I go there. They are amazing.  Every time I go in there it’s always a positive and something I’m good - I can be somebody.

And now I am part of the Poverty Truth Commission too.  I want to help change things.  Actions are better than words.  We all need to take a stand together, and I want to be a part of that change.

The most important thing I’ve learnt about myself is to never give up on yourself.  If you give up on yourself, what chance have you got?  

My Story - part 7

One of our Commissioners gives us a privileged insight into their life. They give us the good and they give us the bad. The story helps us understand poverty a little better. Here is part 7.

There hasn’t really been one turning point for me, because my life journey has been so rocky.  It’s been an unsteady road.  That’s the way it’s always been really, so many uneven roads.  

I started going along to the Lodging House Mission.  It’s a Day Centre for people with homelessness needs and stuff.  I went there for the cheap food, just to eat, but I wanted something more so I started getting involved in things.  I got involved in the choir they ran.  It was good - I grew to love singing.  

Scottish Opera ran a project with the Lodging House Mission, and I got my first lead role in their production - “Who Killed John King?”  We ended up performing it at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden.  Who would ever have thought that I would be performing with the Scottish Opera at the Royal Opera House.  

Our play was 8 minutes long and there were other groups there from all over the world, all of us experiencing homelessness.  We got a standing ovation at the end of our piece.  I’ll never forget that.  It was a beautiful experience.  Our play was about two families and a gangland war.  I felt like I was going to be sick from nerves, heavy nervous before I went on - but I done it and it was good.  I still can’t believe I done that.  People dream of that sort of thing.

                                                                  

That’s when I got my first taste of acting, and I wanted to continue.  My heart is in singing and acting and I would love to be able to make a career out of them.

That gave me the confidence to go to college.  I did Sound Production, and the music side of stuff. I get to work on my own music. It’s amazing and has given me something that I like doing - singing is a big part of my life.  Learning how to deal with sound, adding sound onto your music and adding wee beats and stuff, and its amazing the door it opens, its just amazing.  

I want to be an actor; I’ve made my mind up.  I’m doing a course in the Citizens Theatre now.  Cause that’s what I want to be.  Like being on stage because you can get to be whatever you want. And then you just leave it on the stage at the end.

But day to day life isn’t easy.  I’m still running that race like when I was fifteen, but now there are lots of hurdles in the way too and people trying to pull you back. It’s a long road but I keep running in the race to win.  You want to beat the odds, you want to beat everything.  The finishing line is when you conquer everything, when you feel good in your head.  Instead of having all these worries about the DWP, sanctions, money and homelessness.  So you’re not going to be stressing, so your mind doesn’t play games with you - that’s all I want.  Poverty really affects your mental health, but I want to be strong, not back down the hole, not back in the slump.

Watch out for part 8, tomorrow...

My Story - part 6

One of our Commissioners gives us a privileged insight into their life. They give us the good and they give us the bad. The story helps us understand poverty a little better. Here is part 6.

I ended up in a fight but I can’t really remember very much about it.  I was outnumbered, surrounded by about 20 bodies around me - folk from another area.  I got that - the bottle - down my face.  The night is kind of blurry still, but I get flashbacks sometimes.  I went to hospital myself.  Ran up there and got my face stitched.  And I have to keep looking at that reminder in the mirror, that reminder of how stupid I was.

I went to stay with a friend for a while, and then got back into my mum’s - things were a bit more sorted out for me.  I tried to just stay in at night, not to fall back into my old ways, but then the boredom cut into me and I got back into the wee circle again. The downward spiral again. If I didn’t get out I was going to get put in a box or in the jail.  And so I found myself homeless again.  

That time I went to the Hamish Allan Centre.  They sent me for a weekend to the Talbot, and then when the Monday came, they put me into Clyde Place.  I was there for 5 months.  And the after that I was moved into supported accommodation through the Simon Community.

Then at last I got a flat.  My first home of my own.  It was a three apartment in Tollcross.  They weren’t able to offer me anything smaller, and it was hard work to keep it up and to furnish it, but I loved my flat and it became like home.  My first home of my own.  It meant so much to me and I told myself I would never become homeless again.

Four years later when the bedroom tax came in I was hit with extra money for the spare room I hadn’t wanted in the first place.   I couldn’t afford to pay and got into debt and arrears.  Things spiralled, and I couldn’t cope.  It started to affect my mental health - I suffer from depression - and I wasn’t able to ask anyone for help. I didn’t have the energy. I just dragged me down and down and then I was evicted. I had to give up my nice home.

And here I am now, back in a hostel again.  I thought I would never go back.  I feel as if my life is going backwards instead of forwards.  But I’m not going to let it beat me. It’s a slow process, but I’m just going to keep my head held high.  I don’t want people feeling sorry for me.  I was doing so well.  Don’t say it’s a shame for me.

Watch out for part 7, on Monday...

My story - part 5

One of our Commissioners gives us a privileged insight into their life. They give us the good and they give us the bad. The story helps us understand poverty a little better. Here is part 5.

I was on wee training schemes where you were earning £70 a week for learning how to do bricklaying, gardening, plus you got bonuses £30 on top of that, and they would pay your travel expenses.  I thought that was good, I thought it was amazing at the time.  It was my first money, I’ve actually earned this, I’ve actually done something to earn it.  At the end of the day I would finish and sneak into the pub. I was 16, but I would dress smart so I wasn’t getting ID’d, so I would sneak into the pub, and it was kind of good.  

Then I got a job as a porter at a hotel.  That was good, a good wage.  It was my first big wage and was lot of money to me.  I bought myself clothes with my money and that.  The shifts were 11 hours, 15 hours though, and it was too knackering, it was affecting my health.  It was too hard.  It became too much.  I had to give it up in the end.

I was still living with my mum and dad at that point, but with me not working now, it became more and more difficult.  I did some bad things.  I was being bad with just drinking, being an idiot - my mum ended up having to threaten to throw me out.   

Things were really bad at home and I had to go - I decided to go myself though rather than be thrown out.  I thought this was going to be the answer, I would make myself homeless. I didn’t know what to expect - I thought I would be able to get my own place.  So I came into this world of homelessness for the first time, and it was tough. I did not expect it to hit me the way it did. It opened a new world.

I was a nervous wreck at first but was just trying to be strong. I got put in a hostel. I didn’t like it there. I got robbed it was a bad experience. People could just nudge into your door, and your door would be open, so I was scared to go to sleep. It was not the environment for me.

It was a tough world.  You have to be tough in the hostels, because if you show weakness, they’ll pick on you. Try to bully you.  If you show a weakness, you’ll be the one walked over.  You have to be strong or you learn the hard way.  Being in a hostel you need to be strong.

I was still drinking.  One night when I was out I ended up getting slashed by a bottle through drunken stupidness.  I had taken Ecstasy the night before, and was coming down.  I drank a litre of wine in 20 minutes to try and take away the feeling.  I was drunk, staggering about, not realising the stupid things I was doing. 

Watch out for part 6, tomorrow... 

My Story - part 4

One of our Commissioners gives us a privileged insight into their life. They give us the good and they give us the bad. The story helps us understand poverty a little better. Here is part 4.

When I hit sixteen, I just wanted out of school.  I’d got put back a year at Primary 7 and I was kind of gutted because all my pals were going on to Secondary, and it kind of bugged me all the way through - I always felt behind.  Soon as I hit sixteen I was out that door, and just into training schemes and stuff, you couldn’t hold me back.

My pals and I hung about on the streets at night, drinking and getting into trouble.  You had all these different schemes in the East End.  You had Dennistoun, you had Duke St, Alexandra Parade, you had the Gallowgate - we all kind of just clashed really, and then you had Calton as well so like there was always gang fighting.  And in gang fighting there’s always repercussions.  Sometime down the line you might think it’s all over and nothing will pop up, but people don’t forget a face, and people don’t forget stuff.  

Peer pressure and boredom makes people join gangs.  That and feeling excluded.  Because you want to be like them, you want to be a part of something if you feel like you’re a part of nothing.  If you feel a part of a gang, you feel a part of a group, you feel safe, you’re part of this, you’re with your friends, you’re feeling good. And then if somebody’s got a knife, you’ll start carrying a knife.  If somebody’s drinking, you’ll want a drink.  If somebody’s smoking hash, or more - that’s how you start.  

So there we were, jumping about corners being bored, always getting pulled up by the police.  And then you start getting into that spiral, you’re getting angry, you’re getting lost. You’re always getting pulled up by the police, you want to just graffiti on the walls, spray stuff.

When the police saw you drinking they would pour the drink out and then you would be gutted.  Or you used to see them coming and you would drink it was fast as you could, get as much down you as possible, cause you knew they were coming to pour it away.  Get as much down the belly as possible before that.  It was warrant checks they stopped you for - if they had a warrant for your arrest and then the next minute you know you’re up the Sherriff Court.  You were always in and out, it was like a second home London Road.  In and out for stupid things - drinking on the streets, sometimes gang fighting, just a lot of stuff building up and a lot of court cases over the years.  Luckily enough I never got the jail. I know a lot of my friends have been in and out of the jail, I’ve just been fortunate not to be.

Growing up from a teenager to an adult was a downward spiral.  We were all drinking, we were all still bored.  The Shettleston Harriers seemed like a long time ago.  

Watch out for part 5, tomorrow...