Did you think you were poor growing up?

I was born in 1950. In our town there were some middle class people with big houses. But I’d say 90% of people were like my family. A dad who worked and a mum who stayed at home. Rented accommodation until mum and dad saved for a small house in 1958. We didn’t have a car or a fridge or a washing machine. Virtually everyone else’s family was the same. We didn’t think we were poor but of course we were by today’s standards.

Why do some people wear it as a badge of honour these days, especially MP's who want us to think they came from poor backgrounds but really they didn't.

Maybe because they want to be pitied? They think everyone likes a victim?

What I dislike is when they imply that anyone born into privilege, or who has acquired wealth, thinks they are a better person than the next petson. Or that they are stuck up, and treat poor people with disdain.

They couldn't be more wrong on this one.

My Dad was a year behind everyone else coming back from the war as he was in Burma so had difficulties getting a job but got one in a warehouse Mum did shop work, I didn’t consider us poor, but we had no car, lived in a council prefab, and didn’t have holidays, ( my first holiday was when I was 17 ) so I suppose by some standards we were, but we ate good food a lot that Dad grew, and I was clean and dressed well, mum made most of my clothes, and my maternal grandparents helped I m sure.

I think we were poor Dad was a warehouseman and I dont remember Mum working she 5 children spread over 18yrs so she had a small child most of the time. We lived in rented only got a car when the eldest 2 had left home to get married. We always had food clothes etc but no extras or pocket money. I didnt know we were poor but we probably were.

I was born in 1958, to parents in army (biological Dad) brought up with other army families til I was three, Mum took me back home (her home with my grandparents)

My mother remarried when I was 6 to a childhood friend, who became my father in every sense and adopted me.

Lovely middle class up bringing, I was extremely lucky as no money issues. Lots of other issues, but all in all I was a very fortunate child.

I was born in 1959, the youngest of 4 children. We lived in a 2-up, 2-down house (I slept in my parents' room until we moved when I was 11. Dad was a painter and decorator, mum did a part-time factory job when I was about 8. We didn't have a bathroom - toilet was outside in a yard - and no washing machine or proper kitchen, just a scullery with a ponch and a mangle outside. Coal fires downstairs. Yes, we were poor but didn't know it. Mum kept us all clean and fed. Dad worked hard to pay for things.

“MartavTaurus

Why do some people wear it as a badge of honour these days, especially MP's who want us to think they came from poor backgrounds but really they didn't.

Maybe because they want to be pitied? They think everyone likes a victim?

What I dislike is when they imply that anyone born into privilege, or who has acquired wealth, thinks they are a better person than the next petson. Or that they are stuck up, and treat poor people with disdain.

They couldn't be more wrong on this one.“

I completely agree, there are a few sad souls who truly believe that their finances make them “better” than others, but in my experience of having some extremely wealthy friends, this just isn’t the norm.

I guess by today’s standards we were . We always had clothes and food but I only went on holiday twice in my childhood otherwise occasional day trips on the train in the summer.

We didn’t have a car until I was 12 , a morris minor my dad was so proud . We lived in a council house, my mum had a twin tub washing machine and stayed at home until I went to junior school then she went back to work and my Nana looked after me and my younger brother.

Presents were only birthday and Christmas , my dad often made me presents such as a dolls cot and a dolls house. One treat was a bar of chocolate on a Friday from the corner shop after he’d given my mum his wage packet. My dad was never out of work but had several different jobs I remember which never paid a lot of money but he worked hard.

Often in the holiday I would stay a week at my aunties ( my dad’s favourite sister) and me and my cousin would be out all day with a sandwich and a bottle of water . We loved it but I guess it would be seen as boring by today’s children . We didn’t have a lot but I remember it as a mostly happy childhood although my mum had some difficult mental health issues when I was a teenager, my maternal grandparents were around a lot.

Well, we certainly weren’t rich (monetarily), but we never went without, either. Mum, like many others, used dad’s wages wisely (and her own when she was able to work). Money was set aside each week for all the utility bills and the rent (council house), then for the weekly shopping. We had an annual holiday, too. Nothing fancy (Pontins or similar), but we children were content with the beach and a donkey ride - cheap air package holidays hadn’t become the norm when we were small.

Any left over money was carefully saved to cover additional expenses as they cropped up (eg new shoes, clothes, a new electrical appliance if needed).

Mum made a lot of our clothes, knitted, embroidered, etc and also used what we had very wisely. If something could be repaired, it was.

Like many others, she made meals from scratch, baked and only bought what would be used up - nothing was thrown away.

I know times were different when I was growing up - things such as credit cards, debit cards, telephones in the house, etc, were either unheard of or the domain of people with more disposable income.

So, although money was tight, and everything had to be accounted for, I do not consider that we were poor as we never went without - and were, in fact, rich in so many other ways, too, fortunately - blessed with loving parents, a roof over our heads, clothed, cared for and a warm fire always lit.

It might sound idyllic, I’m sure it wasn’t, really, for our parents, at least, who had to make those low wages stretch, but they did their best for us - looked after us, made sure we were protected, etc, and to me, that is the ultimate “richness”.

Martavtaurus - I don't think I think that about people born into privilege, but I did suffer a bit at school and uni (although I loved uni) from classmates looking down at me because I sounded "common" and didn't have much savoir faire, coming from a working class background.
At school I was called a "yokel" behind my back (didn't know what it meant until we read Thomas Hardy in English) & laughed at if I gave an answer in class because of my broad speech.
I don't think this happens so much now, certainly as regards accents & class, but maybe less well-off children still get sneered at because of cheap trainers / phones.

We were not poor but I had a miserable upbringing.

My mother judged everyone on how they spoke, what they wore, how they ate etc.

Her two favourite adjectives were posh and common.

I would have done anything to have a family like my most “common” friend.
They were warm, loving and had fizzy pop!

I only got away with spending time there because they were very devout Catholics so the “common” was balanced out by the devotion.

For a fair while we were very poor. My dad had been brought up in a very comfortable, middle class family but his father gambled and was unable to help when my dad's hotel went bust. So, we had Bailiff's at the door most weeks.

My maternal grandfather rented a cottage for us - the toilet was in a row a little further up the hill and we had to wash in the kitchen. We went 15 miles, by bus, each week to have a bath at my grandparent's house.

My younger brother was born with cerebral palsy so my mother was tied up with looking after him and his twin who was, understandably, unruly..

Luckily my grandmother made my clothes - I did find it mortifying as I grew older - and I went to live with her and my grandfather during the week so I could access a better school.

Unsurprisingly, I was bullied at school.

Yes by today's standards. We were a family of four living in rented accommodation and then later getting a council house. There was always food on the table, my Mum was a great cook. We had clothes on our back and our house was always spotless. Dad was a factory worker and as was the way at that time He was not the least bit domesticated but He was the earner and Mum stayed at home and did all the chores. I do have very happy memories of my childhood and my loving and caring Parents.

MartavTaurus

^Why do some people wear it as a badge of honour these days, especially MP's who want us to think they came from poor backgrounds but really they didn't.^

Maybe because they want to be pitied? They think everyone likes a victim?

What I dislike is when they imply that anyone born into privilege, or who has acquired wealth, thinks they are a better person than the next petson. Or that they are stuck up, and treat poor people with disdain.

They couldn't be more wrong on this one.

Totally agree.

I know there was a short time when things were tough but we were never poor as such.

I am finding it difficult to understand why those who have been fortunate in their life feel that they have to apologise for it 🤷‍♀️

The death of my father, after a lengthy illness, meant my mother had no option but to work for most of my life. I have very happy memories of the local council nursery but once I started school I had a door key (lost more than once) and had to be responsible and grow up fast. There always seemed to be more days in a week than there was money for, and my mother sold her engagement ring to buy my grammar school uniform, but I knew I was much loved and accepted that I had less than my friends. I can’t imagine how a mother in similar circumstances now would cope, and my admiration for my mother grows by the year

By today’s standards I’m sure just about everyone I knew was, but we didn’t know it or feel it. Outside toilets, sculleries, one coal fire and no bathroom were the norm, but most of us were well-fed and cared for, clean and happy. We always had a week away in a B & B, but most of my friends just “went away for days”. I remember a couple of middle class children who lived in bigger houses, one with a playroom and an orchard. There were also genuinely poor families in the village who our mothers quietly helped out with clothes and money.

I thought everyone grew up in a house like ours, till I went to Grammar school and realised they didn’t!
We lived in a 3 bed rented house with 2 families and my Gran in the 3rd bedroom. No bathroom and an outside toilet. I didn’t have my own bed till I was 6 and we moved to a similar house up the road for just our family. Mum gave up a good job for a bank the day she got married. Dad had 2 jobs but spent most of his money down the pub with his friends. We had a tv though.

I don’t think I thought about poverty when I was young, I just accepted the way things were, and moaned if I didn’t get what I’d like, which looking back was probably a sign we were more privileged than many. My parents were not extravagant, but I didn’t grow up in a poor household. My dad was an engineer, my parents had a mortgage on their own house, four children, and we had a very happy childhood. I do know now how lucky we were, but I must have been in my own little world then I think.

We were just like all my friends at both primary and Grammar school. We all either lived in council or tied cottages. There were a couple of wealthy families in the village but their kids went to private schools. When I got to grammar school I had a friend whose parents were both teachers and owned their own house, everyone else was just like me.

My Dad never had a day off work in his life and cycled miles to work every day whatever the weather. It was low paid work so he did gardening work at weekends. My Mum stayed at home until we all went to school then did cleaning work, school kitchen work etc to make ends meet. She was a great college trained cook so could make a great meal from very little. Dad grew all our veg, salad and fruit. They had very little but we never owed anybody a penny. We would have been entitled to free school meals but my Dad was too proud to ask his employer to sign the forms.

We had no car until I was about 13 and my Dad’s employer left him her car in her Will. We had no central heating and didn’t go on a proper holiday until I was 16. We hired a caravanette and went to the New Forest.

I knew we were, but I rarely wanted for anything within reason and I was well fed and clothed. The scales dropped from my eyes when I struck up an unlikely friendship with a girl who moved to our school. They lived in the only detached house in an area of two up two down terraces and had a lifestyle I had only read about in books, but her parents, though well to do, were very down to earth and welcoming. She passed for the grammar school and I didn’t but we stayed friends, even for a while after we left school. At the other extreme there was a girl at our school whose family lived in the most appalling privation. That was real poverty. What I had compared to her was a life of luxury. She and her sister were such lovely girls I wondered how they endured it. I always fervently hoped they grew up to have a much better life.