She sprouted strong
Like a spike of rosebay willow herb
Self-seeded in the shipyards,
The pits
The steelworks.
She grew
In a world scarred by polio,
Diphtheria, Thalidomide.
It was a man's world.
But she grabbed that equality
That they denied her.
Grasped it tightly in both hands
And pulled...
And she wouldn't let go.
And as she pulled
She became a force
That would make change.
Meanwhile
She slapped away the groping hands
In the loading bay, the stationery cupboard
And the pot wash.
She raised the children
Hurrying home
At the end of a working day
To make toad in the hole for tea
Wash uniforms
And get her dishes done.
A woman's work...
She was turned down for promotion
Because “she'll only leave to have more children"
And “who's going to look after them when they're Ill?”
And in the end
She was so busy
She simply didn’t see the notice, hidden in the Financial Times
Which said
“FYI:
We've changed the terms and conditions of your state pension
Into which you have been paying
On the understanding that you will retire at 60.
It will now be a tad later.
Best wishes,
The DWP.”
Had she seen it
She would have also seen the subtext
Which read:
“You wanted equality,
Didn't you?
Well, here it is.
Equality.”
And she would have understood
That, after all...
It's still a man's world.
Jan Clarke.
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