The working class dream

I come from a fairly working class background. My mum was a hairdresser and my dad used to lay gas mains. Manual labour work. My parents determined that I would not follow in their foot steps. Like all parents they wanted something better for my sister and I. They were not pushy parents and always encouraged us to do what we wanted. My mum spent the evenings with us teaching us to read and write before we even went to school and then carrying this on during my early school years. My mum even came into my school to volunteer to help other kids to read. She was known as being no nonsense but fair and I think some of the teacher as well as the kids were a little bit scared of her. My mum is only slight and not that tall but she commands a lot of power. As the eldest girl in a family of 6 she had to be. She was the true matriarch. I rarely saw my Dad during the week. He often left the house at 6 in the morning and came home at 8 in the evening. The weekends however, he was with us every second of the day. Seeing him with my niece you realise how he regrets not seeing us as much when we were young. My parents have a lot of problems from their jobs. My mum has arthritis in her hands and my Dad can barely get out of the bed in the morning he is usually in so much pain. It breaks my heart to see them like this and know I can do nothing for them. They also had the misfortune of being hit by the pension fuck ups and lost most of their savings because of it. All my parents wanted for us was that we were happy and held down good jobs. I have a very desk bound job. I earn fairly good money, but I am by no means rich. The irony is that most people who became plumbers and sparkies and brickies earn a hell of a lot more money than me. It is a bizarre circle of economics, but is based on sound principles - everyone moved into IT, media, accounts, or law, trying to improve themselves and left a gaping hole in the skilled labour sector. I am sure in 5-10 years time this will shift back the other way. Coming from my background you aspire to the same dream as your parents and in my parents case when you come from not much, that is usually based on a nice house and car, holidays and being able to spoil your kids. I look at the effort and work I put into my job and being in London I cant buy a house or a flat. If I do get flat it is the size of a thimble and in burbs. I look at my dad and I know I could never have lived the life he led, but there is no one on this planet I look up to more or who I seek approval from. I am proud of who my dad is and I hope he is proud of me. Sometimes it is hard to cling on to your roots and still look to your future. I suppose the true working class dream is not about "improvement", or financial success, but that I have had so many opportunities in my life, all thanks to my parents. Through their backgrounds they became the parents they were and sculptured me into who I am. I am my parents son. And I don't think I turned out too bad. Even if what I do is a million miles from the working class roots I grew up in, it is still in me. As my friend DF says, you never knew you came from the wrong side of the track until you got a chance to cross it.