Benefits Street

If you live in the UK, you probably already know about the Channel 4 programme 'Benefits Street', a documentary series which has attracted an awful lot of attention and controversy over the past month or so.

For my overseas readers, a very brief synopsis - 'Benefits Street' is a crude nickname for James Turner Street, a suburban avenue in a rough part of Birmingham in the West Midlands. According to the programme, the street has acquired this nickname because the majority of residents there are unemployed and living on benefits, with some never having worked at all. The series documents these people's lives over a year by shoving cameras in their faces and talking to them etc. The programme has generated controversy because many believe that our current Government - with the help of their friends in the media - are demonising poor people/people currently living on benefits. We're encouraged to believe that these people are "scum", are an inferior race, and should all be shot, or something.

The first two episodes of 'Benefit Street' were grim. Episode One centred on a chap called Danny who has a penchant (great word, I'm pleased with that one) for nicking things, selling them, then buying drugs with his "earnings". We saw Danny's tactics - lining a shopping bag with foil to stop the alarms going off - and we saw him being forcibly arrested in Birmingham city centre.

Episode Two wasn't much better. This time, we saw a group of Eastern Europeans move in to James Turner Street, having been promised work doing fruit picking on a farm, or something. To their horror they soon realised that they were being treated as slaves, and with no money and about twelve grown men trying to share a house suited for a family of four, they upped ship and cleared off, presumably back to their own country. They originally fled their country for a better life - one guy's sole aim was to earn some money and send it back home to help feed his starving child - but they soon found they were being treated worse over here than they were back home.

Grim stuff, but Episode Three was painfully tough to watch, and the episode which has made me want to put pen to paper (or the blogging equivalent, anyway). Episode Three centred around a young couple, Mark and Becky, who - and I'm kind here - aren't going to be winning Mastermind any time soon. Mark has never worked (more on this later), and spends his time with Becky looking after their two young children, Casey and Callum.

Callum is, to be polite, a problem. Over the course of the episode we see Callum demanding a bowl of cereal at midnight, not going to bed until 5am, not going to nursery because ????? and having rather impressive temper tantrums that see him ending up in 'Punishment Porch' - a lovely little prison cell for him between the front door and a stairgate contraption.

Watching between my fingers, I soon began to realise why I found Episode Three so much harder to watch than the first two episodes. It was because I was watching a child's life being utterly destroyed. A child destined to grow up without a fucking chance of making anything of his life.

Callum's childhood seems to be a vicious circle of bad behaviour, violence, imprisonment, no education, verbal abuse and a twisted body clock. Unless there's an urgent intervention, we can see Callum's adult life following an eerily similar pattern - bad behaviour, violence, imprisonment, no education. Callum has no chance in life. None. And it isn't his fault. When he hits his mother and screams "Me hate mummy" it's hard to disagree with him, or blame him for his incorrect grammar.

As I touched on earlier, Mark, the father, has never worked. During Episode Three we saw him - to the obvious shock of his partner Becky - land a "job" doing door-to-door for a charity for 100% commission. Yep, that's right - any penny Mark received had to be off the back of a successful encounter. He absolutely tried his best - he put on a smart suit, and grafted all day, but he wasn't very good, to be kind to the lad. He came home shattered having earned precisely £0.00.

Now Mark might not know what the capital of Andorra is, or the square root of 225, but he's not thick enough to know that this was a load of bollocks. "Hard work pays" shouts our Chancellor, but for Mark it didn't. He jacked in the job and went back to his benefits. Blame him? I don't. I really don't.

Instead I just feel sorry for Mark. At one point he reflects on how nobody is going to give him a job, and to be fair to the lad he's absolutely right. I know how hard it is to find work at the moment, and I have a degree and work experience, am astonishingly intelligent, good looking, and modest. Mark has nothing. He can't put anything on his CV. He can't win - a problem which then filters down to his child, who can't win in life either.

When I think about the residents on James Turner Street, I sit back and I wonder what their dreams were when they were, say, 10. White Dee, Fungi, Danny, Black Dee, Mark and Becky - I bet none of them daydreamed as a child about a soul-crushingly boring life on benefits, going through life "existing" rather than "living", until they die and they're buried somewhere and nobody gives a shit.

At the beginning I mentioned how 'Benefits Street' has proved controversial. Many believe that programmes like this are put on solely to demonise these people, to encourage society to label them as "dossers", "scum", "lazy scroungers" etc etc. When I watch the programme however, I can't bring myself to think this. Instead, I just feel sorry - sorry for them, but also sorry for society. Mark and Becky went to their local food-bank during the episode - not because they particularly wanted to, I don't think, but because they had to, just to feed their child.

Think about that. In the United Kingdom, 2014, people are having to use food-banks to feed their children, whilst the Government tries their hardest to turn one section of society against these people. It's enough to make you weep, and think "There but for the Grace of God...." I wish I knew what the answer was, but in the short-term, sniggering at these people and thinking of them as a hopeless underclass probably doesn't help.

Help. That's what these people need, but right now they're not getting much of it.

Shame on us. Shame on us all.

Buster Bloodvessel

Out and about on my travels lately I've seen a lot of bad manners, stupidity, lack of common sense and stuff which in 2010 really shouldn't be happening. So I've decided to have a rant about all this stuff on here. I appreciate all you loyal readers are learned people who wouldn't do stuff like this, but this is the best place for me to rant about it. So here goes...

1) Train etiquette. I was sitting on the train the other day when it pulled into Telford Central. An elderly man with a walking stick ambled slowly to the door and waited for it to open. When it did, was he allowed out first? No, of course bloody not - 3 "youths" rushed up onto the train, pushing (quite literally) past him. There were plenty of seats, so it's not as if they had the excuse that it was rush hour and they were desperate to grab a seat.

People, seriously. The procedure at train stations is very simple - when the doors open, let others get OFF the train, then clamber ON. And show your elders a bit of bloody respect.

2) Which reminds me - this hasn't happened in my experience lately, but is worth noting - if an elderly person gets on public transport, and there's no seats available, at the very least offer your seat to them. Just basic manners, innit?

3) I got off the train at Wolverhampton the other day and there was a chap in front of me. He was a "youth" and considering he had a haircut and tattoos he was clearly an idiot. Walking in front of me for about 500 yards, he then proceeded to spit on the floor about 15 times, no joke. Seriously, why? It's just pretty damn disgusting, and as far as I can see doesn't actually achieve anything. Please, children.

4) "Hello?"..."Alright Dave!"..."Yeah fine, you?"..."On a train!"..."Train, yeah, going to Birmingham"..."Yeah, yeah, been okay, y'know, the usual"...

People. When we're on a train, we don't want to hear your conversation. If it's vitally important, we can tolerate that. But if it isn't, either keep your voice down as much as possible, keep it brief, or arrange to phone the person back.

5) Which reminds me. If you EVER play your shit music on your mobile phone, without earphones, on any public transport, I will not be responsible for my actions.

6) I went into Morrison's the other day and was pretty much immediately confronted by a vacant soul. You know the ones - they amble very slowly along the aisles, their trolleys blocking everyone else, just slowly wandering around with a dazed look on their face, not really knowing what they're getting, why they're there, who they are.....

People. In a supermarket, have a list so you know exactly what you want. Go into the store, get the things you want, move straight to the check-out. It is a chore, not a bloody day out. Now, once you get to the check-out...

7) ...understand that you have to pay, right? Standing in WH Smiths the other day, the woman in front of me unloaded her items onto the desk. She then stood around looking vacant while the lady serving her scanned them in, then seemed to be shocked/offended when she was asked to pay for her goods. Seriously - whilst your items are being scanned, get your method of payment organised and ready, it saves so much bloody time for everyone.

8) This one is two-fold. Firstly, hold open doors for people. Especially if you're a male and it's a woman approaching. However, if someone holds a door open FOR YOU, it doesn't take a lot to say "thankyou".

9) FAO Mormons - I'm not interested. I wasn't the first time you collared me on the street, nor was I interested the 6th time you approached me. If I want to become a Mormon, I'll make that decision for myself, and take myself along to your church, or approach you myself. And why do you always bloody collar me when I'm rushing for a train?

10) Stairs. Now, look, again, this isn't difficult. If you have a public stairwell, what you need is two different lanes of traffic. One lane of people moving upwards, on one side of the stairwell, the other lane of people moving downwards, on the other side. If you do this - it doesnt matter how many people there are - there will always be a continuous flow of traffic.

If you don't do this however, as is the case at Wolverhampton fricking train station, you have chaos. You have people going up here, down there, not knowing where they are. All whilst having their luggage trailing behind them, wiping out everyone in the process. People, please.

If you need 2 handy diagrams to show you a) the right way and b) the wrong way - you're in luck. I went on Paint and knocked some pics out for you. PLEASE SEE AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS BLOG ENTRY.

And finally...

11) Just be nice and polite to people. It always baffles me how in December, the run up to Xmas, everyone seems cheery, in good spirits and there's a vague sense of community spirit. Come the New Year, everyone goes back to being a grouch.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking for everyone to be Mr/Mrs Jolly from Jollysville, but as my dear old mother used to say to me - "Treat others the way you would like to be treated".

That's it for now folks - take care of yourselves...and each other.

WRONG

RIGHT

(You better bloody appreciate them, they took me 2 minutes to do)