On The 26March

‘Deleted’.

A word that is still provoking a reaction. It is, goes one such comment, ‘an angry word’.

And I agree. It is not a nice word. It has associations with other words like erased, wiped, crossed out, cancelled, removed, expunged, obliterated, demolished, eliminated….no trace left.

But I make no apology for using it because it makes me angry to hear this word ascribed to my job and the jobs of friends and colleagues who have also been under the cosh of the cuts. I reclaim the word to satisfy my anger and give it back to the world as a transformative word.

I went to the 26March – only the second march I have been on.  It was huge, even more so than my first march, the Anti War one, I reckon.  Amazing to see so many people, so many representatives of so many work places with the real message for the government – there is an alternative, why do ordinary people have to pay when the bankers are still rolling in it, is this a class war.

I missed all the marches in the 70s despite many an exhortation from the bearded chappie from the Workers’ Revolutionary Party who used to raise me from my Sunday morning stupor for a good old rant on the doorstep. My flatmate at the time was a member and he was always hoping to convert me but youthful resistance was strong. I preferred raving to marching and asked then, what difference could it make?

Now I am prepared to get out there and show my face, I still ask, what difference can it make.  A lot of the media, as usual,  is intent on dressing down the direct action people, thus supporting the government in ignoring the message.

We stopped for a coffee on Piccadilly and happened to watch the group of black clad anarchists go past with their black and red flags. We commented on how peaceable and non anarchic they seemed, even with the loud bangs at intervals and the subtle paint bomb that just appeared on De Beers opposite us. We saw the police race after them as they moved on to give the Ritz a bit more of a paint balling. Some of them probably cranked it up a bit later as the sun went down and police always like to join in with the general mayhem. But in the great history of protest marching, this appeared to me to be a quiet, restrained and sombre one.

To be on the receiving end of ‘the cuts’, to be facing an uncertain future, to watch all the support networks for the most vulnerable in society crumble, to be part of the necessary collateral damage to cover up a global banking crisis, to be ‘deleted’ – is, frankly, crap.

Never mind the broken windows, beware a (BIG) broken society. I shall continue to protest, albeit without a balaclava and flag. My job has been deleted, but, me, hey I will still kicking up those traces and have plenty of voice left……