More crap about race

You were lucky.
Yes, compared to some - but life is a lottery and a mixture of chance on where you were born, who you know, what skills you have, how intelligent you are, where you currently live and job prospects, etc.

Someone Born and brought up in a built up housing estate in a poor part of Newcastle, that went to a comprehensive school and left at 15/16 with few O'leves and who's parents never went to university is not likely to get the same chances in life as for example - Dianne Abbots son did. Race has nothing to do with it either - there's more white folk in this country than BAME that are brought up in poverty, but the media don't like to talk about that.
My dad was brought up in a rough part on the outskirts of Glasgow during the 50/60's - he sure as hell never suffered from any form of "white privilege" at all. Either did the vast amount of people in this country.
 

Brotherton Lad

LE
Kit Reviewer
Yes, compared to some - but life is a lottery and a mixture of chance on where you were born, who you know, what skills you have, how intelligent you are, where you currently live and job prospects, etc.

Someone Born and brought up in a built up housing estate in a poor part of Newcastle, that went to a comprehensive school and left at 15/16 with few O'leves and who's parents never went to university is not likely to get the same chances in life as for example - Dianne Abbots son did. Race has nothing to do with it either - there's more white folk in this country than BAME that are brought up in poverty, but the media don't like to talk about that.
My dad was brought up in a rough part on the outskirts of Glasgow during the 50/60's - he sure as hell never suffered from any form of "white privilege" at all. Either did the vast amount of people in this country.
Of course.
 

Randy Felcher

Old-Salt
My father was a labourer on building sites, who was rarely in steady work, and my mother a housewife. I left school at 15 without any qualifications in order to work and help support the family, I worked a succession dead-end jobs which were often involved heavy manual work. Some of them, in no particular order:
Road surfacing (shovelling and raking tarmac).
Pre-cast concrete worker (shovelling concrete. Hard work, but at least it involves lower temperatures than tarmac).
Tyre-fitter (not too bad in the workshop with all the machines. but roadside breakdowns involving a truck were no fun).
Army (ok, not dead-end, but the training's hard. Although the previous few years manual work helped with that).
Security guard (not hard work but dead-end and you were regarded as the lowest form of life in the late 80's).
Truck driver (back in the days when the tacho laws were a little easier to bend. Time spent loading and unloading was marked down as breaks. I did a 32 hour shift once. Yes, I know it's wrong but jobs were scarce at the time. To quote my dear old boss "If you don't want to do it you can f--k off and don't come back and I'll find some other c--t to do it!").
Joiner's apprentice (might have been ok if I'd stuck with it but I kept hitting my thumb with the hammer. I mean 50% of the time. Apparently it's a hand-eye spatial issue. Or "clumsy f--ker" was the diagnosis of the Joiner).

I eventually got out of this by working and studying for years and finally graduating with a BSc Honours. All paid for by me. I worked full-time during this as it was the only way to pay the bills. I'm not expecting a pat on the back for that. But nor have I ever expected anyone to give me a handout - unlike the many endlessly vocal, woke, liberal, nonentities today, who seem to think that my demographic owes a debt to other demographics.

I don't consider myself especially privileged, but do consider myself privileged in comparison to my ancestors:

Great Grand-Uncle: vaporised by a shell in Flanders, two months before the Armistice. Aged 18, no known resting place. Grew up in a small back-to-back house sharing with another family, according to the 1901 census. Had six siblings, two of whom did not survive childhood and their names are missing from the next census.

A brother of his worked as a stoker in the Royal Navy, both prior to and during WW1. Most will be aware what a brutally hard job that was. He survived the war and went to work in the shipyards as a crane operator, then emigrated to Canada during the depression, where he died at a relatively young age.

Another one of his brothers (my Great Grandfather) also served in the RN as a stoker. He did better than the others by working in the shipyards as a riveter after his naval discharge. That was considerably better than a stoker and he earned approximately two pounds a week in 1930, according to my grandmother. He broke a couple of family traditions by surviving long enough to actually raise a family, and by also living into his sixties.

I should mention that their father was also a stoker, trying to provide for a large family, whilst his wife raised the children. Meaning it can hardly have been an affluent household when they were growing up. They were Scottish who had moved to Liverpool at the turn of the 20th century. The family they shared the house with were Irish immigrants and I'd expect that they had similar hardships.

My Grandfather (on the other side of the family) left school at 14 to work in a mill - hard labour carrying heavy sacks and constantly breathing dust. He died in his early fifties, having suffered years of health problems. Those H&S Regs are there for a reason nowadays, you know.

Anyway, I'd just like to apologise to anyone who may be offended at my privilege, and for having the audacity to born white, or to be born at all. I humbly beg forgiveness for my insensitivity at deciding to born in the UK in the 1960's, where one's chances of surviving childhood were significantly higher than many other places, instead of say, being born in Kenya and eaten by a Lion.

I also wish to apologise for any offence that I may have caused by being born in a country that used to have an Empire, and for being old enough to have gone to a school where large parts of the map of the world on the classroom wall were pink. I'm aware that the Empire was all my fault even though I was born at the same time as Britain was relinquishing control of Aden, and that India could have been a world superpower by now if it hadn't been for me.

Finally, I am deeply shamed by ancestors who were stokers. From my research, it seems that they referred to themselves as the 'black gang', even though they were white. This is an unforgiveable example of cultural appropriation.
And it gets worse: I've seen old pictures of them and their colleagues at work, and I was horrified that they often appeared in blackface at work. The lack of sensitivity that they displayed by mocking other races, when they should have been shovelling coal in searing temperatures for 2/1 a day has left me shocked and saddened, and with a deep sense of etc., etc.

I'm off to the bathroom to atone for my sins by flagellating myself for a while.
 

Eyes_Right

Old-Salt
If that was aimed at me; apologies but im tired but in fairness Mr Dudes threads I genuinely dont know how to take em at times :)

No no, not at all. It was aimed very specifically at the OP. The asininity of the post almost defies description. To think that white people can’t also be victims of oppressive work conditions and exploitation demonstrates a child-like view of industrialization and the work place. To try and link the arduous and deadly nature of coal mining with whiskey distilling in Ireland is, well, it speaks for itself.
 
My father was a labourer on building sites, who was rarely in steady work, and my mother a housewife. I left school at 15 without any qualifications in order to work and help support the family, I worked a succession dead-end jobs which were often involved heavy manual work. Some of them, in no particular order:
Road surfacing (shovelling and raking tarmac).
Pre-cast concrete worker (shovelling concrete. Hard work, but at least it involves lower temperatures than tarmac).
Tyre-fitter (not too bad in the workshop with all the machines. but roadside breakdowns involving a truck were no fun).
Army (ok, not dead-end, but the training's hard. Although the previous few years manual work helped with that).
Security guard (not hard work but dead-end and you were regarded as the lowest form of life in the late 80's).
Truck driver (back in the days when the tacho laws were a little easier to bend. Time spent loading and unloading was marked down as breaks. I did a 32 hour shift once. Yes, I know it's wrong but jobs were scarce at the time. To quote my dear old boss "If you don't want to do it you can f--k off and don't come back and I'll find some other c--t to do it!").
Joiner's apprentice (might have been ok if I'd stuck with it but I kept hitting my thumb with the hammer. I mean 50% of the time. Apparently it's a hand-eye spatial issue. Or "clumsy f--ker" was the diagnosis of the Joiner).

I eventually got out of this by working and studying for years and finally graduating with a BSc Honours. All paid for by me. I worked full-time during this as it was the only way to pay the bills. I'm not expecting a pat on the back for that. But nor have I ever expected anyone to give me a handout - unlike the many endlessly vocal, woke, liberal, nonentities today, who seem to think that my demographic owes a debt to other demographics.

I don't consider myself especially privileged, but do consider myself privileged in comparison to my ancestors:

Great Grand-Uncle: vaporised by a shell in Flanders, two months before the Armistice. Aged 18, no known resting place. Grew up in a small back-to-back house sharing with another family, according to the 1901 census. Had six siblings, two of whom did not survive childhood and their names are missing from the next census.

A brother of his worked as a stoker in the Royal Navy, both prior to and during WW1. Most will be aware what a brutally hard job that was. He survived the war and went to work in the shipyards as a crane operator, then emigrated to Canada during the depression, where he died at a relatively young age.

Another one of his brothers (my Great Grandfather) also served in the RN as a stoker. He did better than the others by working in the shipyards as a riveter after his naval discharge. That was considerably better than a stoker and he earned approximately two pounds a week in 1930, according to my grandmother. He broke a couple of family traditions by surviving long enough to actually raise a family, and by also living into his sixties.

I should mention that their father was also a stoker, trying to provide for a large family, whilst his wife raised the children. Meaning it can hardly have been an affluent household when they were growing up. They were Scottish who had moved to Liverpool at the turn of the 20th century. The family they shared the house with were Irish immigrants and I'd expect that they had similar hardships.

My Grandfather (on the other side of the family) left school at 14 to work in a mill - hard labour carrying heavy sacks and constantly breathing dust. He died in his early fifties, having suffered years of health problems. Those H&S Regs are there for a reason nowadays, you know.

Anyway, I'd just like to apologise to anyone who may be offended at my privilege, and for having the audacity to born white, or to be born at all. I humbly beg forgiveness for my insensitivity at deciding to born in the UK in the 1960's, where one's chances of surviving childhood were significantly higher than many other places, instead of say, being born in Kenya and eaten by a Lion.

I also wish to apologise for any offence that I may have caused by being born in a country that used to have an Empire, and for being old enough to have gone to a school where large parts of the map of the world on the classroom wall were pink. I'm aware that the Empire was all my fault even though I was born at the same time as Britain was relinquishing control of Aden, and that India could have been a world superpower by now if it hadn't been for me.

Finally, I am deeply shamed by ancestors who were stokers. From my research, it seems that they referred to themselves as the 'black gang', even though they were white. This is an unforgiveable example of cultural appropriation.
And it gets worse: I've seen old pictures of them and their colleagues at work, and I was horrified that they often appeared in blackface at work. The lack of sensitivity that they displayed by mocking other races, when they should have been shovelling coal in searing temperatures for 2/1 a day has left me shocked and saddened, and with a deep sense of etc., etc.

I'm off to the bathroom to atone for my sins by flagellating myself for a while.
Don't come on here with your Upper Middle Class White Privilege, your nearly Upper Class to me.

FFS: I was born (or dropped by the stork in a rhubarb patch) in North Derbyshire in 1960, where men are men and sheep are nervous.

I did not see or use my first flush toilet until 1965. And still up to 1968 the toilet (a short walk or long run depending on your urgent needs) associated with the dwelling I was surviving in, was still the *bucket under a round cut out of ply in a 3 sided single brick block. (no roof or door as they were used as fuel in the 1962 heavy snow blockade).

*Never go for a dump on a Wednesday morning as the bucket used to be dragged out between your legs and thrown in the poo truck and then slammed back into place. Not so much as an HELLO or GOODBYE from the Poo truckman.

My home used to be snowed in from July to June the next year. Even the cricket was cancelled in the summer of 1975 due to snow.

It's made me the well adjusted member of society I am today. Well I used to read the out of date news from the cut up newspapers used as bog roll. Those second hand but not pre-used Sunday Supplements with the colour pictures were idea for passing the time when the wind was cooling your privates. (I may be stating a false hood here).

Woke Kids of today don't know they are born.

**Edit to say those were the best early years of my life.

**All changed when the Breeching railway cuts came in and the Manchester to London line via Derby and other interesting named stations such as Peak Forest Junction, Millers Dale, Blackwell Halt etc were closed.

Strict Dad ex National Service/AER became a Nasty B*st*sd overnight as his signal box was closed and he had to work in the quarries.

Three guesses who suffered.

Roll on 1975 and down at the ACIO to sign on. 1976 could not come quickly enough.
 
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Agony_Aunt

War Hero
Talking about shit jobs, I used to work on the Oil Rigs as a rig mechanic - 12 hour shifts + meetings and drills and days fogged on + courses etc, It was many, many hours a year working. As a rig mechanic you need to fix everything, not just the drilling stuff but also stuff in the living accommodation - such as the sewage system.
Regularly bits of mop heads, tampax, ear buds,rags, etc would end up being flushed down a pipe and the sewage would be backed up a long way. I used to have to crack open the pipe (usually near some bend), and get a fire hose over my shoulder and blast the faecal matter out - I've been covered in over 100 different peoples shit at the same time and then had to shovel that into oil drums, and dispose of it many times more than I have wanted. One things for sure - I sure as hell didn't feel my "white privilege" on those days.

Over the years have had many shit jobs, as I am sure most of the forum members have - for those that went to Afghanistan and Iraq, scrapping up your mates body parts and putting them in a poncho or something, I doubt you felt your "white privilege" there either. One winter tour in Bosnia, I worked out of an slept in a Bedford 4 tonner with 3 other mechanics for 6 months on a winter tour, with no hot water or heating most of the time - I didn't feel at all like my "White privilege" was getting me anywhere at that time, and It was more a feeling of being very depressed most of the time rather than being happy about my "white" situation.

Even as a kid in the 80's most of my holidays were spent in the summer Picking strawberries, raspberries at a farm and in the Autumn - potatoes.....There were no foreign holidays for me and 99% of my friends, unlike how the media like to spin it, "Whitey" is and was not very privileged at all when you come to think of it.
A Bedford 4 tonner? Luxury!

When I was a lad, we slept in a cold room above a coal shed, with no heating. I had to do mechanics with my bare hands, at 06:00. Times were hard.
 
A Bedford 4 tonner? Luxury!

When I was a lad, we slept in a cold room above a coal shed, with no heating.

Could you not just have, I don't know, set fire to the coal or something?

I had to do mechanics with my bare hands, at 06:00. Times were hard.

And the mechanics were much like the times, I imagine ... and at 6 o'clock in the morning, in the cold. Makes you proud to be British.
 
My father was a labourer on building sites, who was rarely in steady work, and my mother a housewife. I left school at 15 without any qualifications in order to work and help support the family, I worked a succession dead-end jobs which were often involved heavy manual work. Some of them, in no particular order:
Road surfacing (shovelling and raking tarmac).
Pre-cast concrete worker (shovelling concrete. Hard work, but at least it involves lower temperatures than tarmac).
Tyre-fitter (not too bad in the workshop with all the machines. but roadside breakdowns involving a truck were no fun).
Army (ok, not dead-end, but the training's hard. Although the previous few years manual work helped with that).
Security guard (not hard work but dead-end and you were regarded as the lowest form of life in the late 80's).
Truck driver (back in the days when the tacho laws were a little easier to bend. Time spent loading and unloading was marked down as breaks. I did a 32 hour shift once. Yes, I know it's wrong but jobs were scarce at the time. To quote my dear old boss "If you don't want to do it you can f--k off and don't come back and I'll find some other c--t to do it!").
Joiner's apprentice (might have been ok if I'd stuck with it but I kept hitting my thumb with the hammer. I mean 50% of the time. Apparently it's a hand-eye spatial issue. Or "clumsy f--ker" was the diagnosis of the Joiner).

I eventually got out of this by working and studying for years and finally graduating with a BSc Honours. All paid for by me. I worked full-time during this as it was the only way to pay the bills. I'm not expecting a pat on the back for that. But nor have I ever expected anyone to give me a handout - unlike the many endlessly vocal, woke, liberal, nonentities today, who seem to think that my demographic owes a debt to other demographics.

I don't consider myself especially privileged, but do consider myself privileged in comparison to my ancestors:

Great Grand-Uncle: vaporised by a shell in Flanders, two months before the Armistice. Aged 18, no known resting place. Grew up in a small back-to-back house sharing with another family, according to the 1901 census. Had six siblings, two of whom did not survive childhood and their names are missing from the next census.

A brother of his worked as a stoker in the Royal Navy, both prior to and during WW1. Most will be aware what a brutally hard job that was. He survived the war and went to work in the shipyards as a crane operator, then emigrated to Canada during the depression, where he died at a relatively young age.

Another one of his brothers (my Great Grandfather) also served in the RN as a stoker. He did better than the others by working in the shipyards as a riveter after his naval discharge. That was considerably better than a stoker and he earned approximately two pounds a week in 1930, according to my grandmother. He broke a couple of family traditions by surviving long enough to actually raise a family, and by also living into his sixties.

I should mention that their father was also a stoker, trying to provide for a large family, whilst his wife raised the children. Meaning it can hardly have been an affluent household when they were growing up. They were Scottish who had moved to Liverpool at the turn of the 20th century. The family they shared the house with were Irish immigrants and I'd expect that they had similar hardships.

My Grandfather (on the other side of the family) left school at 14 to work in a mill - hard labour carrying heavy sacks and constantly breathing dust. He died in his early fifties, having suffered years of health problems. Those H&S Regs are there for a reason nowadays, you know.

Anyway, I'd just like to apologise to anyone who may be offended at my privilege, and for having the audacity to born white, or to be born at all. I humbly beg forgiveness for my insensitivity at deciding to born in the UK in the 1960's, where one's chances of surviving childhood were significantly higher than many other places, instead of say, being born in Kenya and eaten by a Lion.

I also wish to apologise for any offence that I may have caused by being born in a country that used to have an Empire, and for being old enough to have gone to a school where large parts of the map of the world on the classroom wall were pink. I'm aware that the Empire was all my fault even though I was born at the same time as Britain was relinquishing control of Aden, and that India could have been a world superpower by now if it hadn't been for me.

Finally, I am deeply shamed by ancestors who were stokers. From my research, it seems that they referred to themselves as the 'black gang', even though they were white. This is an unforgiveable example of cultural appropriation.
And it gets worse: I've seen old pictures of them and their colleagues at work, and I was horrified that they often appeared in blackface at work. The lack of sensitivity that they displayed by mocking other races, when they should have been shovelling coal in searing temperatures for 2/1 a day has left me shocked and saddened, and with a deep sense of etc., etc.

I'm off to the bathroom to atone for my sins by flagellating myself for a while.

As an aside, you make another point which has been one of my hobbyhorses of late.

When people go on about x or y percentage of children in this country “growing up in poverty“, I show them photographs from around WW1 time of shoeless youngsters in my hometown, all with dirty faces, clad in little more than rags.

Ah, they say, you must take into account relative poverty – the 40% that are below median income in the UK.

I respond: bollocks to your relativity, ask them if they want to swap places with most of their opposite numbers in the third world. Or back then.
 

Brotherton Lad

LE
Kit Reviewer
Could you not just have, I don't know, set fire to the coal or something?



And the mechanics were much like the times, I imagine ... and at 6 o'clock in the morning, in the cold. Makes you proud to be British.
… and an outside bog with torn up sheets of newspaper hanging on a string from a nail. Frost on the inside of the bedroom window. Youngsters, these days.
 

Brotherton Lad

LE
Kit Reviewer
Which is why climbing into Soviet officers’ latrines in East Germany to retrieve interesting and used paperwork was so easy, once you’re accustomed to earth middens.
 
Herein lies the problem;

For example - “I worked as a miner, 20 hour shifts a mile underground, white knuckle, miners black lung, low pay. As did father, grandfather, great grandfather, et al “
Flake - “So you had White Privilege”
“How the fxxk do you work that out?”
Flake - “White Privilege because you had a job”
“Okay, let’s bring in loads of African and Eastern European low paid workers to do it instead”
Flake - “So you’re a racist too. Why should they do it? Slave labour?”
Around and around it goes
 

Cold_Collation

LE
Book Reviewer
Herein lies the problem;

For example - “I worked as a miner, 20 hour shifts a mile underground, white knuckle, miners black lung, low pay. As did father, grandfather, great grandfather, et al “
Flake - “So you had White Privilege”
“How the fxxk do you work that out?”
Flake - “White Privilege because you had a job”
“Okay, let’s bring in loads of African and Eastern European low paid workers to do it instead”
Flake - “So you’re a racist too. Why should they do it? Slave labour?”
Around and around it goes
Exactly. You can’t win with gobshites.
 
… and an outside bog with torn up sheets of newspaper hanging on a string from a nail. Frost on the inside of the bedroom window. Youngsters, these days.

Something that you never experienced - Or you would know that there was no string - string was for shoelaces and torn up newspaper was stuck directly to the nail.
 
What a sh*te thread From the racist with the avatar that shouts out what he is!

White privileged?

Take your racist crap to the BNP website or somewhere where it’s appropriate.

I served back in the seventies with numerous black soldiers and we were all the same. Soldiers looking after each other’s backs when we needed to.

It was a “privilege” to serve with those guys, many of whom attend re-unions these days and remember our fallen mates the same as the rest of us all do.
 
White privilege mainly consisted of having just enough spare cash to buy booze, fags and unhealthy food - the small luxuries that made daily life bearable. Those 'luxuries' ensured that men who survived half a century of toil in heavy industry wouldn't burden the public purse with a lengthy retirement.
 

Old Stab

LE
Book Reviewer
I must have been really posh then.
Proper bogroll, indoor flushing toilets upstairs AND Downstairs.

Central heating, proper clothes from a shop and not a jumble sale..

I dunno...I'm lucky I guess.
 
I must have been really posh then.
Proper bogroll, indoor flushing toilets upstairs AND Downstairs.

He He He

You had proper white privilege :) :)

JS74345589.jpg


The shitter was communal on the 1/2 landing.
 
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