Outlaw Queen
I assume you have clicked on this post for 1 of 3 reasons:
- You’re either Pro-Independence and think it might be an interesting read
- You’re Pro-Union and want to have a heated debate with me later ( which I’m all for FYI)
- You’re friends and family of mine and I have bribed you to read it with my good charm and wit
To the rest of you- the apolitical- I see you. I promise that this isn’t an over idealistic party political broadcast with shots of Nicola Sturgeon kissing babies heads and saving puppies from burning buildings. With the threat of insulting my SNP roots, I genuinely couldn’t care less what your politics are…unless you are a Tory. Nah, just kidding. Or am I? Whoops, I guess you’ll never know.
I have always been political and I don’t mean I was sporting a ‘Bairns not Bombs’ badge when I was…well just a bairn. I mean I was that kid. The kid that wore their tie forced right up to their chin and was on the Pupil Council at aged 9 before they even knew what that really meant. Guess what? I haven’t looked back since. My Dad even made this joke magazine cover which inspired the title of this piece. Somehow I don’t think Chris Pine has anything to worry about.
So yes I am a politics nerd but you knew that already. I didn’t become “interested” in Party politics until the 2010 general election. I remember sitting down watching the televised debate with one white man arguing with another white man and do tell me if I’m wrong but I think there must have been another white man across from him?? My memory escapes me but the point is, I remember that night so clearly probably because it has happened numerous times since. My dad spent the majority of the speeches shouting at the TV and pointing aggressively (sorry, enthusiastically) whenever David Cameron dared to open his mouth and my sister and I simultaneously made fun of each speaker in turn although we weren’t really sure why. I remember getting swept up in the theatre of the evening and it wasn’t until later that I understood that that is all it really was: theatre.
As of late I have felt more and more disconnected from the parties and the leaders that are supposed to represent us. As impressive as Nicola Sturgeon is and I will always treasure the moment when the security guards descended on me and my friend when we got too close to her at a rally, she isn’t perfect. The party isn’t perfect, neither is the Scottish Government and lord knows that Westminster is far from perfect. My entire teenage life has been chock full of referendums and momentous general elections and that dreaded oompa loompa across the pond. It’s safe to say we live in interesting times. I voted for the first time when I was 16 and after the European Parliamentary Elections, I will have voted 5 times in my life and I am only 21. Depending on the day ( especially if I have had a coffee) I will have nothing but praise for our highly active democratic system. I might say how lucky I feel to be part of such a progressive country that allowed me to vote in a historic referendum that could change my entire future. I am grateful, even if the result wasn’t what I had wanted. The reason being is that I have grown up in a politically supercharged country, surrounded by an ultra politically engaged generation. Scotland the super democracy! We are so fortunate and we don’t even realise it. Yet, if I haven’t had coffee that morning, you’re likely to get a very different answer. I like to see democracy in action, even if I don’t share the opinion of the majority. That’s just the way the world works ( at least until I take over as supreme dictator of the world- misogynists beware!) . The problem is what follows. Remember the Vow? Remember the £350 million Nigel Farage promised us that the NHS would get a week when we left the EU? Exactly. It’s as frustrating as flat pack furniture- enough to throw your hands up, curse a bunch and give up entirely ( or in my case phone my Dad to come fix it). Unfortunately, even my fantastic Dad cannot fix the country- he’s got a conference call at 2 and that’s gonna take up most of the day so sorry UK you’re on your own.
When we start to get this frustrated and lost, it’s hard to see the point in party politics at all. The amount of people I know that don’t identify with any party, who only vote to keep out a party they hate and worst of all, who don’t vote at all is growing. I want to throw up my hands and scream at them, shake and reason with them but that will probably do about as much good as me writing a blog post about it and at least this way I won’t get arrested for assault. So here is my plea to you all. I don’t care what your politics are, who you vote for or who your family votes for but please vote, please stay involved. If you don’t like the look of another snobby- Eton attending- dinosaur riding MP then spoil your darn vote! Make a stand. If you are sick of being lied to or having your interests squandered for our politician’s personal gain then don’t just grumble at the TV and turn it off- go outside and shout about it!
It can actually be fun. Now, now hear me out. Last weekend, a couple of friends and I went to the Independence march in Glasgow. It was honestly such a great day that even the world’s worst hangover ( that I thoroughly deserved) couldn’t ruin. There were people from across the country- from all ages and backgrounds. There were even dogs in saltire flags for crying out loud. It might have been a march for independence but aside from the chanting, it was really just a peaceful display of patriotism and pride. I’ve been to other marches: the Processions 2018 march in Edinburgh that marked 100 years since women got the right to vote ( well kind of) and that was equally an eye-opening experience.
Eye-opening, Rebecca? You went for a walk, you didn’t cure cancer. That might be true but attending marches- expressing my political opinions hasn’t always been an easy thing for me to do. I was one of a handful of people I knew that supported independence growing up. I was lucky that I had good friends that respected my views but it was definitely a lonely experience and I didn’t have many people to share my thoughts with, without it causing tension anyway. My views were constantly challenged on social media and/or in person for as long as I can remember which is definitely something that I wasn’t prepared for at 16. Rather than just accepting my views, I felt I had to justify every opinion from independence to feminism because no one wants to be wrong. I got painted as a ‘feminazi’ before the term was ‘cool’. I think they thought I liked the argument- the challenge but really it was just my protective suit of armour. I would either challenge right back or even laugh but the constant confrontation, the jokes and the insults which were so often routine in my life eventually won. Although not immediately, ( my stubbornness put up a good fight) I stopped arguing back, I didn’t engage and I stopped expressing my opinions publicly until I almost stopped expressing those opinions at all.
Looking back I regret the time I wasted worrying about people not liking me or that they disagreed with my opinions. They are entitled to theirs just as much as I am entitled to mine. I am definitely not the same girl I was in high school. I am less likely to throw myself into an all out debate ( unless I have had a few drinks and then you’re all screwed…sorry) but I am also more tolerant but more sceptical. I grew up left wing and I definitely still carry that part of myself with me but in my grand old age, I have realised that there are other valid opinions out there that deserve to be heard and respected. So, I don’t want any of you apologising for the opinions you have ( you know within reason) but equally I’m not going to apologise for mine either.
