Class Consciousness

DESPITE the fact that I refuse to categorise myself in economic terms, something that always plays into the hands of the capitalist system, I will always remember that poignant moment when I first became conscious of being 'working class'.

It wasn't the fact that my father's heroes were socialist leaders like Arthur Scargill, Tony Benn and Ken Livingstone, all of whom I admired tremendously when I was growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, but that fateful scene in the film Kes, when young Billy Casper (pictured) peers through the letter-box of a posh house and suddenly realises that the world is comprised of the 'haves' and the 'have-nots'. It was something of a revelation at the time, I must admit.

Similarly, the fact that getting older means that my refrigerator is now beginning to resemble something you might find in an overpriced health shop in trendiest north London does not make me 'middle class'. I will always be a 'have-not,' believe me, but one who is lamentably stuffed to the eyeballs with lactose-free milk, blueberries and cottage cheese.