The phrase ‘the postcode lottery’ was originally coined by
sociologists and politicians to describe the arbitrary manner by which social
and welfare services are allocated in the UK. You can ‘win’ the postcode
lottery by living on the right side of a street and therefore qualifying for a
better school, doctor or benefit package. The National Lottery has now adopted
the term, as the name for a new postcode based subscription draw and in doing
so made light of a truly harrowing theoretical concept.
When I was born I won one of the most divisive and arbitrary
lotteries that has ever existed. I was born a citizen of a developed nation, a
European nation, a free nation. I was born to a liberal family, a loving and
supportive family with the means to propel me into my future. I was born part
of the majority, I was everything that was expected, I was automatically
accepted. I was told, constantly from the second I came into this world, that I
was beautiful, I was smart, I was loved, I would grow up to hold the whole
world in my hands and that I could literally be anything my mind landed on.
As I grew up I never doubted the potentials available to me.
I wanted to be a journalist- I could. What about an actress- no problem. I
didn’t want to be married or have children- not necessary. Can I take a year
off to volunteer- of course, we’ll support you. Can I move from country to
country without facing hostility and mistrust- why on earth not, you’re white
and speak English, right?
I never even thought about what a uniquely lucky position I
was in. I have never had to contemplate the chance that school, further
learning, career might not be possible for me. It never crossed my mind whether
or not my parents would be waiting at home for me every day after school- alive
and well with food on the table. When I was a child I was precocious and
opinionated. I believed my opinions mattered because they were always given
credence. I opened my mouth at every opportunity to extoll the virtues of gender
equality, or LGBT rights, of carpe diem and helping those less fortunate. What
did I know? When had I ever had to struggle for any of the freedoms I was born
with?
I am a decidedly average person. I have no great natural
intellect, I am not particularly good looking, I am a woman with an abrasive
personality and no real qualities that would naturally set me apart from the
rest. And yet here I stand, 25 years old in possession of everything I was ever
promised. I stand here with the world in my hands; relatively successful in the
career I have chosen, relatively highly regarded with a family who are safe at
home and a partner who thought it absolutely natural that I put my own
ambitions above any potential marital commitment.
How did I get here? I was dropped here from the heavens.
Everything I have I was handed on a silver platter. Did I work for it- yes, but
I had the chance to. Do I appreciate it- sure, but in an abstract manner of one
who has never lived without. Do I try and make my actions count- yes, but isn’t
that just so very patronising. Am I the living embodiment of the white man’s
burden? Am I the new coloniser? Am I guilty of undeservingly accepting praise
for results for which I put in so very little effort?
I acknowledge the fact that my race, my nationality, my
faith, my family and a great big dose of nepotism got me where I am. But even
in acknowledging this, I am seen by my peers as virtuous and humble rather than
simply presenting what is so painfully obvious to millions of others around the
world. If you want a humbling experience then come to a developing nation with
all your posturing and education and success and look into the face of your
local counterpart and see the truth- they
know without a shadow of a doubt that your apparent accomplishments are in fact
not a result of your worth and merit but the result of the global postcode
lottery that sees them holding out their hand, or loitering in doorways of bad
neighbourhoods while you sit in your ivory tower throwing pennies out the
window and expecting adoration in return.
And there is no escape for me from this truth. I cannot
un-be what I am. All I can do is acknowledge reality and try hard to be worthy
of great injustice that sees me benefit while other suffer. My children too
will be born to this privilege- I wonder if they will even know it, or if they
will wallow in sadness at the thought of all those more fortunate than them.
When the royal baby was born this week I saw a lot of interesting reactions-
one of which was the opinion that this baby, being born into a life of luxury
and prestige, was undeserving of the many opportunities and benefits that will
undoubtedly be made available to him. This made me laugh because every single
person voicing this opinion is guilty of exactly the same thing as they read
the news off their computer screens, in coffee shops and discuss the shameful
lack of meritocracy underpinning the British Monarchy. Open your eyes. You too
are benefiting from privileges based in no way on your merit- and in some ways
it is all the more disappointing for being denied and ignored.
