The Age of Entitlement?

Life – Terror. Ecstasy. Fight. Denial. Flight. Failure. PAIN. Forgiveness. Reconciliation. Hope. Love. Peace – Death.

There has be much in the news and extending social ether lately about the recent, widespread, UK riots, looting and violent disorder triggered by the shocking and horrifying murders and stabbings in such an unlikely location, Southport, Merseyside.

A sleepy, historically, middle-class, predominantly elderly (affluent) town just 25 miles from Liverpool. As a child I would go to Southport, to the Fun Fair at least once, annually, on the 12^th of July with my mum, following the Orange Lodge Marching from Bootle to Southport.

Gail (my wife) managed a Citizens Advice Bureau in Southport for 5-6 years. I have close friends who live in Southport but more importantly, I have young grandchildren (younger than the victims) who could have easily been at such an innocent preschool event. Those horrific, unimaginable events triggered national anger that led to widespread public disorder on a scale not witnessed since 2011.

The pace in which prosecutions are being processed and the scale and severity of, convictions and sentencing is unprecedented sparking much controversy and debate; for example, untypical, first time, offenders, perceived as, previously, ordinary mums & dads behaving extremely badly, out of character and receiving substantial custodial sentences, sentences far greater than previous norms?

A rapid government response, extreme, shock tactics, towards an urgent goal, an abrupt cessation of nationwide, violence & disorder. Probably induced by stark lessons learnt from the 2011 riots. Decisive, severe, action that, no matter what your opinion of it is, achieved it’s goals. The riots & public disorder has ceased.

Legal shortcuts have been made and, in many cases, ‘normal’ legal procedures for such out of character actions, by first-time offenders, would normally involve lengthy, family, employers, reports/statements even mental health psych reports, examining any and every angle, all mitigating circumstances and looking at the whole picture, to attempt to understand what got us to this point? leading to a considered decision not just about appropriate punishment but also appropriate rehabilitation, considering longer term, effective, solutions, for perpetrators but also for the benefit of society (the communities the perpetrators live within).

Many children are currently awaiting sentencing, presumably, they will receive punishments as equally severe as those older than them have already received. I wonder what the longer-term consequences might be for those children once convicted, who, despite being irrefutably guilty, will have to go through the rest of their lives with a serious criminal conviction to their names? And likewise, for us (society) having to accommodate and in many cases financially support them, as convicted criminals, often unemployable for the rest of their lives?

Punishment has and will take place and sooner rather than later. However, if we choose simply to leave it at that, choose to ignore (all of) the possible reasons as to why so many young people were seemingly just waiting for an opportunity to riot, to make themselves heard? We will not truly have dealt effectively with any underlaying issues.

Earlier today, the national news reported, ‘the number of young (younger than 18) people who have part-time ‘Saturday’ Jobs is currently 24%. Compared with 48% 25 years ago.

I had my first job aged 13-14 for Corona Lemonade. I wanted a job delivering lemonade off the back of a lorry. At £3 per day (usually about 4 hours), it was competitive. I would travel to the depot in Long Lane Aintree, by bus, usually with a mate, Jeff, at around 6.30-7.00am.

We would stand in line outside the managers office, above the Corona Lemonade warehouse. There were many other kids. On reflection we were probably amongst the youngest. The drivers would be there with the depot manager. We had a nickname for him which I cannot remember!

We would wait patiently to be picked, (or not). There were always too many kids, for the amount of available rounds. 1, occasionally 2 boys per round. The manager and individual drivers chose. It was rather like a group of Mexican workers standing outside a farmers market waiting to be selected for work. I never ever made the cut. It was at least a year later that I was, eventually, chosen. I was a small 13, looked even younger. Smaller (not as strong) as most of the other boys. The drivers wanted an easy life, for them, the bigger the boys the better for them.

After failing for several weeks I was offered an alternative role. Corona had a Christmas Club, selling ‘savings stamps’ towards Christmas drinks. Customers, a prearranged group of approximately 50-75 customers, within a small, walkable, area bought weekly stamps to spread the cost. A Christmas Club ‘round’. My round was in Walton, about a mile away from the depot, a short bus ride. I would knock on doors, they were expecting me and ask, ‘how many stamps this week’? Usually this would be a minimum of £1 and often £5 – £10.

I was salesman, a 13 yr old salesman and I became very good at it. A natural. Apparently I have a convincing smile! I looked like the Milkybar Kid, (older) women loved me! I would encourage them and they would buy more stamps from me. I would complete my round and walk home around 5.00pm a 20 minutes walk. By the end of the day I was carrying a substantial amount of cash plus a number of unsold stamps. At 13 I had responsibility for logging the various spends etc. and for the safe keeping of cash and stamps. A lot of responsibility for a 13 year old.

Saturday early evening, after my ‘T’, I would ‘cash-up’ and work out my commission. Usually I would be entitled to between £5-6. A small fortune for a 13 year old in 1972-73. The following day, Sunday, dad would drive myself and Jeff in his Austin 1300 to the depot to ‘cash in’ and get our wages. He would wait outside in the car. We would often hit £7plus. Amazing money, twice as much as the delivery lads. We would also, usually, ‘borrow’ a case of fizzy drinks each when leaving the warehouse. A couple of ‘gratis’ slabs (24 cans) of Pepsi or Coca cola which we would throw into dads car boot. He looked the other way and never did question our obvious theft.

Despite the clear benefits of the stamp round compared to a delivery round I was always hoping for a chance of a delivery job, which, eventually came, I suppose because I had grown bigger? Why did I not want to continue to earn twice as much selling stamps?

On reflection, even at 13, I found myself questioning the morality of ‘selling’ and my own ethics in my pushing sales? I was not aware of it at the time but we were a poor family. However, there were poorer families. When I started my stamp round I became aware of significantly poorer families in my area.

I can still vividly remember one such family. The mother, always bought at leat £5 worth of stamps. She looked, poor, very thin, ill looking, always shabby and tired. When I called., there would always be a loud noise of multi-children in the background. She was constantly shouting at them to be quite, to behave. I instinctively, felt sorry for her, even though I couldn’t really understand why? At night I would create visions of her getting to Christmas, to the point of exchanging her stamps for Christmas goods and somehow, her being let down? I would see myself as being to blame? I had, huge, irrational, premature guilt?

I can still picture her to this day, at the door, although nowadays, over 50 years on, in my mind, she looks more like my mum than anyone else.

I was not alone in having a strong work ethic, a desire to ear money. It was more the norm than not. Having taught adults (18+) for over 22 years I have noticed a decline in such work ethics. Especially so these past 10 years. Without stereotyping every young person there does seem to be a growing sense of entitlement within, current, younger generations. I would work to fund my desire to become a professional musician, to buy equipment and to pay for expensive ancillaries and accessories, strings, FX pedals, Straps etc. It seems as though now-a-days many younger people just ask, demand, whatever it is they require (want) from somebody else and it is expected that they will get it, to the point that they are angered, surprised, when they can and do not?