Platty Joobs Got Me Thinking

Jess Helicopter - 6 Jun 22

As a republican, this last week has been pretty cringey and unbearable in the UK. If I ever see red, white and blue bunting again it will be too soon.

A big chunk of the UK have been celebrating 70 years of a monarchy that represents an archaic era of colonialism, elitism, massive wealth disparity and repulsive nonce pay-offery. The havoc wreaked by colonialism is still very much being felt by families left reeling from the Windrush generation deportations. The wealth / poverty gap is growing exponentially thanks to the cost-of-living crisis, so much so that food banks are now running out. And good friend of convicted paedophile Jeffrey Epstein, Prince Andrew had mysteriously got a touch of the covids so was conveniently kept from public view during the whole shamfest. A Prince who’s anti-noncery legal bills were paid off by the star of the show herself, Queen Elizabeth II.

The British “Empire” elitism of course is still alive and well thanks to resounding success of Brexit, the bizarre glee at bringing back imperial measurements and blue passports whilst shelves run out of food and decades of peace in Northern Island are under threat over potential changes to trade borders.

How anyone can fail to be anything other than deeply ashamed and embarrassed to be British right now, is beyond me.

And yet!

I also know and love a load of people who DID celebrate the Jubilee. People who had parties, bunting, trifle and got drunk on British gin and scoffed scones (cream first then jam, fight me) and thoroughly enjoyed the utter pomp and ceremony of it all. And I understand why. Despite most of those people not having strong Monarchist/Republican feelings either way it was an excuse to dress up, drink and have fun.

I do think you are allowed to enjoy things that are familiar and nostalgic to you from the place you’ve grown up in. Providing those things don’t cause others harm or offence (e.g., golliwogs). You can enjoy the camaraderie of shared experience: Loving cups of tea, strawberries&cream, fish and chips, pubs, Coronation St, the NHS, red phone boxes, good tv dramas, British humour, football (rugby) British music. There are things I completely love about growing up in the UK. That appreciation for your homeland can sit side by side with the awareness of it’s mottled past and the need for drastic change in future.

Patriotism in the UK is complicated. I often shy away from publicly stating my Englishness whilst fully embracing a Welsh identity (I’m half and half). This is hypocritical of me, for sure. Welsh identity is often characterised as joyful singing, rugby watching, daff-waving, leek-eating gentleness. Whereas English pride, specifically with the English flag, has been associated with Nationalism, racism, lager swilling, football hooliganism / skinhead violence. The English are often seen, especially post Brexit, as arrogant and elitist.

Is it a class thing? Another very British concept. England is posh (cos it has the money), and the rest of the British Isles are seen as working class? Down to earth, aware of their roots?

But let’s be honest here. Wales has its own share of problems. Not least with racism. We might have a reputation for being a warm, welcoming country but only if you’re white. Just last week there was a horrific report of a kid being disfigured in a racist attack in Abertillery. And despite Cardiff being an international port since 1839 AND having a historically diverse community in the docks, that didn’t prevent 5 black guys being wrongfully accused and 3 wrongfully convicted of murder in the 1980s.

If you follow Cardiff BLM on insta you’ll see almost weekly injustices meted out against BiPoC in our green and pleasant land.

But again, this doesn’t mean I don’t love Welsh/English things. I don’t know that I would say I am PROUD to be British. But I am happy to enjoy most aspects of our culture. OMG good fish and chips with curry sauce on a sunny beach with Led Zep in my ears! Come on! That’s as platty joobs as I’m gonna get. Innit.

Jess Helicopter

Jess is a wine-addled, social media tart, feminist (does this need to be said?!) and chronic over sharer. She lives in Cardiff with her husband, children and some cats. Half heartedly trying to carve out a career by fancying herself as a bit of writer.

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