Feeling Guilty

I didn’t vote in the local elections. I feel really guilty as I believe in the moral duty to vote. I had tried to forget about it but today one of my students bought an article carefully saved from the Times titled ‘Why It Matters’. As I’ve lectured them about the importance of voting; the key features of liberal democracy and the relationship between central and local government; he assumed I would be interested. He assumed I cared.

The working woman fought long and hard for the vote; as did the working man. The last 100 years has seem an enormous social upheaval- almost a revolution that has taken power from the property owning minority to the many. Now we have that power we should use it.

So why didn’t I vote?

Is it because it was local elections?

No; I do generally agree with the article that local government still has some significant powers that affect local quality of life.

Is it because it was too damn difficult?

No; Its a 3 min walk on safe well lit streets to the local school; I’m on the elctoral register. All I have to do is turn up with my card and put a cross in a box. I should be able to make the effort.

Is it because I don’t know who to vote for?

Partly; my local council is inefficent and overspending. It has poor control of resources and a lack of independence in its finance function. It is however controlled by a party I feel ideological affinity too.

Is it because I don’t care?

Again partly; my local seat is not threatened my any extremist parties and I don’t really think it matters which of the other parties gets in. Also I don’t consider myself to be at home; I don’t feel that I’m permanent here- that I care about this town. Which is just silly as I live here, work here and send my son to school here.

However this is not enough to excuse the dereliction of my social duty. I will vote next time.

 

Sometimes its OK to get into a car with a strange man…

Recently I got into a car with a strange man….I’d had a really long day; up at 5.30, teaching for 7 hours, travelling to London…and and then across London via late tubes to find my hotel… I arrived at my hotel ready to sink into bed to find they had lost my booking…I could have cried…infact I did cry. I came out of the hotel in tears…I stood in the raining contemplating my next move when a man came out of the hotel in a car. He had been delivering pizza whilst I was refused a room. He offered to drive me to a hotel…After I got in I started to panic…oh my god what if this was the most stupid thing I’d ever done; what if he was a rapist…or a murderer.

 Fortunately he wasn’t. He drove me to a hotel, and waited for me. When I couldn’t find a vacancy he took me to another hotel. He didn’t ask for money or try to asault me. He was just kind.

 I’ve had such a lovely weekend; on Sunday we went to the Cotswolds with some friend walking- we visited a water park where people were canoeing; my son and his friend went down to the edge of the water where some canoeists were relaunching and got into a protracted discussion with them about crocodiles…the canoeists showed the children an animal they found and generally engaged with the boys. I thought it was a lovely kind thing for them to do.

It reminded me of the other things people have done for me; the skateboarders who carried my shopping home; the man who watched my son sleeping on a train whilst I unloaded all my luggage; the person who gave me money for the nappy machine on a stressed shopping Saturday when I ran out of nappies…..and the many people who’ve helped me up steps, onto trains and to amuse my child in airports, train stations etc.