From the beginning the suburbs.

My first memory is my brother being born. There might have been more but this is the only one where I can recognise the milestone. I wasn’t allowed to visit as I was ill but it didn’t bother me. My mum seemed hung up on this like it negatively impacted my life. It didn't, I thought nothing of it. It seemed like a sensible precaution. I think I was probably just anticipating excitement in my life with a new arrival.

I can’t remember the first day of school or anything like that. What I do remember is time doing the experiment to see what objects sink / float. In my memory it seems we did it loads. There seemed to be inane conversations about middle names and who you were going to marry. When you think all the world you will ever know is right here in the classroom. Is this a female thing? I just remember thinking there’s no-one here I want to marry but weighing up a list regardless. This seems a ridiculous notion now but it compounds the feeling, an unhidden expectation of marriage. That’s all you know growing up.

I grew up in the suburbs and I still struggle to comprehend their appeal. Dense housing, no community, neither city or scenery. The local spa shop is as good as it gets. When I was a kid there would be mass halloween trick n trick nights, but I have no idea where these kids were the rest of the year. locked up in the houses ?

My first introduction to the notion of class came when I was 6 or 7. As part of our homework we had to go and ask questions about our families. The secrecy started then. What seemed like on the face of it a simple information gathering exercise instead exhibited something more complicated. There were facts that my mum just didn’t want to share, which striked me at the time as really odd. Where was your Dad born? oh no don’t put where he was actually born (Wythenshawe *council estate) but say something else, something vague I guess. Not on outright lie, but a concealment of the truth. This was so vivid. I just thought it’s a fact — why the secrets? Years later I raised it and we had an argument about it. It’s funny to think if I’d been allowed to write down the real answer I would never have remembered this. There were other examples as well. My mum wouldn’t tell me the school she went too. I think I kept that bit of homework, (probably rotten in the loft now) as evidence so I could look back and work out what was real. The fear of judgement was instilled upon me from then I think. I didn’t understand why but I recognised something was off.

My mum hated the north, and spent years saying how much she wanted to move down south. Years later when I looked on map to see where she grew up it wasn't south, at best you could argue it was the Midlands. I guess everyone does this to some degree. I wish I’d grown up in a proud northern family. Instead my mum would criticise my accent when it seemed to be going too northern or estuary English as she called it. As if we were better than this. I say my mum believes in the class system and we’ve always fought about it. It wasn’t until the 2016 election that suddenly it all made sense. Of course I’d grown up in a conservative stronghold. A place where a great emphasis is placed on what the neighbours think of you. Again when I was growing up this seemed odd, they weren’t friends with the neighbours. I don’t even know if my parents knew their names so why did they care so much about what they thought. The suburbs seemed to encapsulate these notions of judgement, fear and class perfectly.

I played a lot with a neighbour round the corner, we had a nature club which felt like important and fun work even if we inadvertently killed some caterpillars along the way. We made up music “stopping killing animals — in the name of God” over the soundtrack of The Supremes. We didn’t believe in God but thought as a lot of people do it might be a more impactful that way.

My friend was adopted and I remember thinking it would have been cool to have been adopted by her family too. I think it started from an innocent thing — like their lunches were better, more fun — Babybel, chocolate, cut up apples, cheese and crisps. It felt more relaxed and more social.

When we were young I have some memories of some of their friends coming over for dinner and then almost as abruptly it all stopped. It felt like for 30 years no-one except my grandparents came to the house. I actually had a fear it was inevitable I would grow up without having friends. They never met their friends outside either, or very rarely. Instead life was work, housework and for my mum shopping. The annual trip to Europe, at first in the car then flying when budget airlines came along. The last holiday we took as a family was when I was 17. There was a hotel and a pool. I don’t remember much else. There were so many arguments fuelled partly by the fact I was hungover and sleep deprived having just got back from a 18–30’s holiday. I don’t think anyone much enjoyed that holiday and I made vowed now to do it again.

Now the idea of going on 18–30 holiday seems so horrendous. Although i’ve never been a pool lounger book reading holiday person. One day at best.