“Something is rotten in the State of Denmark.”
Hamlet, Act 1, scene 4
It’s 2018, but sometimes feels as if it could be 100 years ago. This week marked a century since the passing of the Representation of the People Act, which meant that, finally, some women in England could vote in 1918. Females were given the right to vote, but only if they were over the age of 30, owned property, were a member or married to a member of the Local Government Register, or were a graduate in a university constituency.
In Jersey, things weren’t that simple, either. Single “Jerseywomen” (as they are sometimes described) got the Parish vote in 1919, whereas women over 30 (age does has some benefits) and “wives of qualifying ratepayers” were able to vote in public elections.
The theme of powerlessness has been on my mind this week. On Thursday, I attended a conference called “Just About Managing”, put together by Brighter Futures, a Jersey charity which supports children and their main carers to have a positive start in life.
The conference was about the effect of poverty and disadvantage on families. It was well attended, but only a few States Members were present. We heard from the recently appointed Children’s Commissioner that there are still some children in Jersey who go to school with obvious signs of poverty that need to be investigated – rat and flea bites due to living in squalid conditions, for example.
Children in another primary school have never been to the beach here. Brighter Futures itself (you can tell I’m an Ambassador) has its own food bank now, also providing nappies and other baby essentials to parents who cannot afford to feed their families.
There were more examples of the poverty we simply don’t want to face here. One child had never used a flushing loo until he went to primary school, because his family lives in shared accommodation and he didn’t get to use the shared toilet facilities. I don’t know if this is because it wasn’t thought safe for him to, or if there simply weren’t any. Students at one secondary school are provided with clean uniform on a daily basis because they can’t access clean clothes at home.
I was surprised and shocked by these obvious examples of poverty, although perhaps I shouldn’t be, given that sometimes my sister and I help out with another Jersey charity which cooks and delivers meals to families in need. One weekend, my sister apologised to a mum for making her cottage pie again. “That’s ok”, explained the lady, who had two young children to feed. “We’ve been living on pasta with cup a soups all week”. That insight has stayed with me, and never more so than when I talk about Brighter Futures and Caring Cooks and why we still need charities like them in Jersey.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the answer as to why poverty exists in Jersey to the extent that it does. I suspect, though, that it’s a number of things. Is it because so many families here depend on inadequate and overpriced “unqualified” housing that may or may not be tied to a minimum-wage job, or because they have to rely on a zero hours contract, or because they are struck down by ill health, or because the support structure around them crumbles without a family network when things go wrong? In some cases, poverty arises through imprisonment or the death of a partner who had helped you stay afloat financially.
I just don’t know, but I do know that while I hear true stories about children going to school with rodent bites, or not going to a doctor because their parents can’t afford it when their children are over five years old, or young people thinking that the Children’s Commissioner will leave “because that’s what everyone else does”, in Jersey, in 2018, it is my job to talk about it and to ask everyone who can to do what they can to support families in Jersey so that they can all have a brighter future.
As I said at the beginning, it may be 2018, but it sometimes feels like 100 years ago. Don’t get me started on our Income Tax laws and the lack of a student loan system so that everyone who is eligible can access further education, whatever their financial background.
I wish it didn’t feel like this and I hope too that, in another five years, we won’t have to attend another conference to hear how families in Jersey are “just about managing”. I hope too that those who have been voted into power will think for a moment about the well concealed problem of being poor in Jersey and acknowledge the work done by charities here to help families.
Poverty is its own form of being disenfranchised and belongs where half the population not having the vote did until 1918 – firmly in the past.
Sarah Nibbs 