Friday night in our house is movie night, and last Friday was no exception. I stepped away from the anger and shock portrayed all over my social media accounts following ‘Brexit’, snuggled up on the sofa with my five year old and proceeded to watch ‘Capture the Flag’, relieved I could, at least for a moment, escape from the grips of political and economic uncertainty. For me to even write the words ‘political and economic uncertainty’ feels alien. I am one of the least political people in the world, if this is entirely possible. Easy for me to say I suppose, being white British from a middle class background. I hate anything to do with politics and avoid talking about it at all costs outside of my own family, should I have been born under different circumstances I’m sure I would have had a lot more to say, but currently I like to lay low. But on Friday I definitely felt uneasy. 

As we watched this simple children’s film, which revolved primarily around space travel, they made a sentimental observation of the moon landings, and the flag that was placed there, to signify the importance of this ‘natural satellite’ that it is there for all mankind and no one has ownership. I am going to quickly skim over the fact that they used an American flag for this purpose, that is an entirely different issue, but focus on the lack of ownership. Here in this child’s film they can so casually renounce all ownership of the moon, but if anyone suggested doing so on Earth World War Three would ensue.

As a race we are obsessed with ownership. As a nation we are, perhaps, the worst. The saying ‘the Englishman’s home is his castle’ is certainly apt. I doubt it is simply a reversal to our animal instincts, and the need to mark our territory, as much as pure selfishness. We are totally obsessed with what is ‘rightfully ours‘. Whenever I have rented a home I get questioned on when I will buy again. We judge each other on our homes, cars, skin colour. I have watched the outbreaks of racism following the referendum with such sadness. A close friend of mine, playing in the park with her child, was told to ‘go home’ because of the colour of her skin. But really, and I mean really, if we stood back and thought for a second, none of this is ours. I am fairly certain the people of Syria were proud of their homes, their cars, paying off their mortgages. Then war came along and now they have nothing. The same could be said for any one of us. When we finally break Earth beyond repair with the climate change we have caused, where will ‘our’ land be? Who can say for sure, but quite possibly under a lot of sea water. Should the apocalypse come we are all in the same boat, when we die, we are all in the same boat. It remains a mystery to me how we can claim this land as our own, how we can judge someone so bitterly for being different, and look down on those in a worse off situation. We talk about ‘third world debt’ like it is actually a thing. These rich world leaders with their Mickey Mouse money dictating who shall remain in diabolical need, just because it makes them feel good about themselves.

I am writing this with my toddler asleep in my arms and I am angry. I am angry, not about the result of the referendum, but at the way people are treating others following it. If war ever comes again to ‘Great’ Britain and we find ourselves homeless, starving, cold, no one will take us in after the way our nation has treated others. Of course, those doing the ill treatment are in the minority, but sadly, they are the ones people will remember. Looking down at this perfect sleeping child, I can only hope we can fix things before she is old enough to know the hurt that goes on in this world. When ‘Miss Universe’ calls for world peace, she is greeted with smirks and eye rolls, yet we quite openly talk about war, terrorism and racism as it is the more believable issue. This post may be written off for being child-like in naivety, it may be snubbed and insulted by fear conjuring trolls (and if this is the case I shall not respond as I hate politics!) but I don’t care. I shall continue, for the sake of our children, to dream of a safe and loving world because after all, is it not better to dream a dream than to live a nightmare?