brogdale
Coming to terms with late onset Anarchism
Really sorry to hear that you had that experience Ann
Leeds uprising 18/7/24
- Thread starter tim
- Start date
ouirdeaux
Caring, Understanding, Non-judgemental Type
The internet would die a death if people did that.
GarveyLives
Well-Known Member
AnnO'Neemus
Is so vanilla
As it happens, that actually happened to me too.That sounds terrible
Maybe I should rephrase what I said. In over 20 years of working in a job where safeguarding is paramount, I've never heard of it happening. The opposite in fact. Kids get left in situations they should be removed from. However, no system is perfect.
As a child, I was battered by my father. I wasn't removed and taken into care until I was 13, when a teacher called social services after I turned up to school with a black eye and other bruising.
I figure that my being a tomboy, climbing and falling out of trees, plus playing hockey, meant that previously bruising didn't stand out as abuse.
I suspect socioeconomics/class was also a factor, in that the suburb where I lived was split in two by a motorway: on one side a council estate, on the other the suburban semis. I lived in suburbia, was doing well at school, despite everything. I guess it was assumed that child abuse didn't happen in homes like mine, much like assumptions about domestic violence, when in reality it affects all sections of society.
Fast forward to me being in 'care', unloved, and along came a boy who told me he loved me. Hey presto, gym slip mum! Chucked out into the world at 17, with no real support and no real clue. But just before that, a well-meaning (and very persistent) social worker, effected a reconciliation between me and my father and stepmother, on the grounds that my daughter should know her grandparents.
Her father lived with us for a wee while, till he turned (more) violent. Luckily, I had the psychological and emotional wherewithal to end the relationship. Had him removed by the cops twice. First time, took him back, second time, that was it, never saw him again.
I was struggling as a single mum. Worked in shops, got a really low paid office admin job, but no one had helped me navigate benefits system, no one told me I could get help with paying poll tax, etc. My office junior salary was the kind of sum that a teenager living with parents could be happy with as pocket money, but it certainly wasn't enough to sustain the household of a single parent.
I got 'promoted' at work. They took on another office junior, who I had to train, while I updated the marketing database and ordered stationery and supplies. But I hadn't received a pay rise. So I plucked up the courage and asked for one. I'd been walking to and from the city centre every day and had a hole in my shoe and couldn't afford new ones. I was getting court letters about unpaid poll tax and my gas had been cut off due to unpaid bills. Social Services had given me electric heaters and an electric hob to cook on. (Although fuck knows what they thought I was going to pay the increased electricity bill with. And then of course I was being threatened with getting that cut off too.)
I couldn't really see any way out. Or rather I could. I knew I couldn't continue like that. I was about 19-20 and on antidepressants and scared of bailiffs.
I figured the only way out was to get some qualifications and get a decent job. Thanks to the well-meaning social worker, I'd been taking my daughter for Sunday lunch with her grandparents, ie my abusive father and the wicked stepmother.
They offered to look after my daughter while I went to uni. I got a place on a foundation year in engineering in Brighton. (I'd always been good at maths, physics, chemistry and biology at school. And French and art. Ironically, I'd been considered a 'gifted child' at school. Thanks autism.)
I didn't see any other way round my predicament.
After a year, I'd arranged to transfer back to Manchester, instead of continuing for the next three years in Brighton, because I wanted to be 'home' and wanted my daughter back.
After I told my father and stepmother, they went to court behind my back, there was an 'ex parte' hearing in which they argued for custody of my daughter, alleging that I had 'abandoned her'. I'd done no such fucking thing. They'd encouraged me to take up the university place by offering to look after my daughter while I studied. Admittedly, I hadn't been able to travel up to see her a lot, because I was skint. And they used against me one time when I was supposed to be coming to visit, but I got as far as London, then the next coaches were cancelled due to a driver strike or something, iirc. They argued that I'd let my daughter down, didn't care.
Of course, because the hearing was 'ex parte' (ie I wasn't notified about it, didn't have a chance to attend or defend myself), so the judge erred on the side of caution, due to safeguarding concerns and ordered/awarded them parental responsibility - in the absence of the mother who'd 'abandoned her' who knew absolutely nothing about the proceedings.
I mean, I understood that the judge had to err on the side of caution in the context of an ex parte hearing, that's fair enough. (Although it was devious and calculated of my father and stepmother to proceed that way. They really knew what they were doing.)
[Am typing on my phone, don't want to lose all this, so will post and continue.]
AnnO'Neemus
Is so vanilla
Oh, yeah, meant to say, when I'd asked for a pay rise after being promoted, the head of office of that well-known highly respected international firm of actuaries and pensions consultants (so they weren't short of a bob or two), said to me 'We're a profit-making organisation, not a charity.' And I didn't get a pay rise, despite the additional responsibility (and also continuing to do part of my original job, because the newbie couldn't do it).
#FuckCapitalism
#FuckCapitalism
Kaka Tim
Half Arsed and Slapdash till I Die
I live in Leeds and know harehills very well - but i dont have any info other than whats already out there.
We dont what happed with the socail service - maybe they overeacted, or maybe they made a bad situation worse - we dont know. However a sitaution which has young kids beening physically dragged protesting from their family in front of a crowd of people looks very much like a monumental fuck up.
Interesting that the poilce pulled out when it started proper kicking off - and then the communtity managed to calm things down themselves - and nobody got injured and buildings werent set abzaze . So smart move from the cops there and credit to the people of harehills.
(And what is it with setting light to buses? Why does this so often happen in riots? )
Thought this article from the graun was quite good -
www.theguardian.com
We dont what happed with the socail service - maybe they overeacted, or maybe they made a bad situation worse - we dont know. However a sitaution which has young kids beening physically dragged protesting from their family in front of a crowd of people looks very much like a monumental fuck up.
Interesting that the poilce pulled out when it started proper kicking off - and then the communtity managed to calm things down themselves - and nobody got injured and buildings werent set abzaze . So smart move from the cops there and credit to the people of harehills.
(And what is it with setting light to buses? Why does this so often happen in riots? )
Thought this article from the graun was quite good -
‘We’re in it together’: how unrest in Leeds escalated – and was defused
Night that began with flipped car, fires and police in retreat ended with residents bringing water in wheelie bins to douse flames
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AnnO'Neemus
Is so vanilla
After transferring to UMIST, I was in student halls in what was nicknamed 'Cockroach House' - iykyk. 
And after having initially assumed things would all work out, I'd just ask for my daughter back when I was settled, I was now unwittingly embroiled in legal action on top of trying to study.
Because my father and stepmother had effectively been awarded custody of my daughter at that ex parte hearing, I then had to go to court to even get visitation rights. To my own daughter.
And thus the games began.
A court welfare officer was appointed to write a report about what was in my daughter's best interests.
Consider, in one corner: the care leaver*, the gym slip mum, the irresponsible and uncaring young woman who'd abandoned her daughter and fucked off, who on one particular occasion was supposed to come and visit, and her daughter was excited and looking forward to seeing her mum, who let her down and just didn't turn up (in reality had been crying her eyes out in Victoria coach station in London after realising the next stage of the journey was no longer possible and she wouldn't be able to see her daughter).
*Don't underestimate the stigma attached by those in authority, ie court welfare officers, social workers, judges, to being a care leaver, to having been in care, it didn't matter that I was in care due to having been physically, emotionally and psychologically abused by my father. The stigma attached to me. Kids in care were seen as bad people, less than.
[Sorry, a friend just called for a chat!]
In the other corner, the responsible mature couple, happily married, albeit their second marriage, they offered a stable home, grandfather working in managerial job, grandmother who'd resigned from her part-time job as a bakery shop manager to look after the child (they'd never told me she was going to do that, she was in nursery, so it was arguably not necessary).
I did point out that my father has battered me as a child, and everyone said my daughter was a chip off the old block (ie very bright and back-chatty, challenging behaviour in terms of challenging authority, (she was subsequently diagnosed with ADHD as a teenager)). I said that he would batter her too. They said he wouldn't.
*Again, I was a care leaver, the fact that I'd been taken into care due to my father battering me seemed to attach a stigma to me, rather than him, like I'd asked for it or something. Whereas my father and grandmother were the 'respectable' ones.
And like I said, the games had begun.
I had to go to court to get visitation rights. A couple of hours on a Saturday, building up to Saturday visits, taking her to the park and/or the science museum or whatever, and also picking her up from school and going for a McDonalds. By now, I'd moved from student halls into a flat share. The landlord had agreed my daughter could stay over. (Had to be documented for court.)
But every time it got to the point where my daughter was supposed to have an overnight visit, they would break off contact. Maybe I'd been 10 minutes late for pickup because of the buses not being on time, so they refused to answer the door.
And every time they broke off contact, I would have to go back to court. It might take two months to get a hearing listed. And then when the case was finally heard, everyone would say 'She hasn't seen you for a couple of months, which is a long time in the life of a young child. So you can't jump straight back to Saturdays and weekday evenings and an overnight stay. We've got to do things gently, ease you back into her routine. You can see her on Saturdays for a couple of months, then build up to picking her up from school, then build up to an overnight stay. Six months later, just when it got to the overnight stay point, they'd find an excuse to break off contact again. Then I'd have to apply to court for another hearing, have to wait another couple of months, then I'd be back to square one.
While all this was going on, I applied for my care records, hoped there might be something in there about my father's abuse that might help my case to win my daughter back. They didn't just hand over my records though. They make you meet with a senior social worker who talks to you, tells you what to expect. So when I was 21-years-old, that's when a senior social worker told me that the only reason my father hadn't been prosecuted for the abuse he'd subjected me to was because the social services hadn't followed their own procedures.
(Like I said, I have my theories why that is, where I grew up, class, parents occupations, etc.)
And after having initially assumed things would all work out, I'd just ask for my daughter back when I was settled, I was now unwittingly embroiled in legal action on top of trying to study.
Because my father and stepmother had effectively been awarded custody of my daughter at that ex parte hearing, I then had to go to court to even get visitation rights. To my own daughter.
And thus the games began.
A court welfare officer was appointed to write a report about what was in my daughter's best interests.
Consider, in one corner: the care leaver*, the gym slip mum, the irresponsible and uncaring young woman who'd abandoned her daughter and fucked off, who on one particular occasion was supposed to come and visit, and her daughter was excited and looking forward to seeing her mum, who let her down and just didn't turn up (in reality had been crying her eyes out in Victoria coach station in London after realising the next stage of the journey was no longer possible and she wouldn't be able to see her daughter).
*Don't underestimate the stigma attached by those in authority, ie court welfare officers, social workers, judges, to being a care leaver, to having been in care, it didn't matter that I was in care due to having been physically, emotionally and psychologically abused by my father. The stigma attached to me. Kids in care were seen as bad people, less than.
[Sorry, a friend just called for a chat!]
In the other corner, the responsible mature couple, happily married, albeit their second marriage, they offered a stable home, grandfather working in managerial job, grandmother who'd resigned from her part-time job as a bakery shop manager to look after the child (they'd never told me she was going to do that, she was in nursery, so it was arguably not necessary).
I did point out that my father has battered me as a child, and everyone said my daughter was a chip off the old block (ie very bright and back-chatty, challenging behaviour in terms of challenging authority, (she was subsequently diagnosed with ADHD as a teenager)). I said that he would batter her too. They said he wouldn't.
*Again, I was a care leaver, the fact that I'd been taken into care due to my father battering me seemed to attach a stigma to me, rather than him, like I'd asked for it or something. Whereas my father and grandmother were the 'respectable' ones.
And like I said, the games had begun.
I had to go to court to get visitation rights. A couple of hours on a Saturday, building up to Saturday visits, taking her to the park and/or the science museum or whatever, and also picking her up from school and going for a McDonalds. By now, I'd moved from student halls into a flat share. The landlord had agreed my daughter could stay over. (Had to be documented for court.)
But every time it got to the point where my daughter was supposed to have an overnight visit, they would break off contact. Maybe I'd been 10 minutes late for pickup because of the buses not being on time, so they refused to answer the door.
And every time they broke off contact, I would have to go back to court. It might take two months to get a hearing listed. And then when the case was finally heard, everyone would say 'She hasn't seen you for a couple of months, which is a long time in the life of a young child. So you can't jump straight back to Saturdays and weekday evenings and an overnight stay. We've got to do things gently, ease you back into her routine. You can see her on Saturdays for a couple of months, then build up to picking her up from school, then build up to an overnight stay. Six months later, just when it got to the overnight stay point, they'd find an excuse to break off contact again. Then I'd have to apply to court for another hearing, have to wait another couple of months, then I'd be back to square one.
While all this was going on, I applied for my care records, hoped there might be something in there about my father's abuse that might help my case to win my daughter back. They didn't just hand over my records though. They make you meet with a senior social worker who talks to you, tells you what to expect. So when I was 21-years-old, that's when a senior social worker told me that the only reason my father hadn't been prosecuted for the abuse he'd subjected me to was because the social services hadn't followed their own procedures.
(Like I said, I have my theories why that is, where I grew up, class, parents occupations, etc.)
AnnO'Neemus
Is so vanilla
Anyway, fast forward, it's now my daughter's seventh birthday, and I'm 23 I think, yes it had been dragging on for years. People didn't have mobile phones back then. I rang my solicitor, who'd been liaising with their solicitor, as to whether I could see my own daughter on her birthday. I can't remember how many weeks/months I'd been prevented from seeing her at this point.
I knew what they were like. I was anticipating the worst. So I figured I'd go to her school, see her in the school playground at lunch time, tell her happy birthday. I'd had a few phone calls with my solicitor on route. Final check, calling my solicitor from a phone round the corner from her school. No joy. My solicitor still hadn't heard from their solicitor. So I went to the school. Couldn't see her in the playground. Went into the school to find her. Asked her teacher.
Apparently, my stepmother/my daughter's grandmother, had told her teacher that she was taking her out of school that afternoon because she was seeing me. I was so happy to hear that. I figured their solicitor and my solicitor must've finally sorted it out.
Went round the corner to their house to see my daughter who had, according to what my stepmother told my daughter's teacher, been taken out of school to spend time with me! Hurrah!
Except my father answered their door and then quickly tried to slam the door in my face, but I was quicker and put my foot in the door so he couldn't close it. He was pushing the door on my foot, so I was shouting and pushing back as my foot was trapped. Maybe he let go of the door, I don't know. I vaguely remember being up against the side of the porch with his hands round my throat. At some point, I ended up on the floor in the porch writhing and kicking and my foot went through a small glass door panel. I vaguely remember cops turning up and several cops having to drag him off me.
It turned out the neighbours had heard my shouts and screams and called the police.
At the time, I didn't know the difference between civil law and criminal law. My attitude to the cops was like, You're here! I have a court order to see my daughter and they're refusing to let me see my daughter! Make it happen! The cops tried to explain to me that they couldn't do that, but I wasn't having it. I refused to leave without seeing my daughter on her 7th birthday. The cops threatened to arrest me for breach of the peace. I protested that I had a court order saying I could see my daughter and they weren't going along with it.
I did get arrested for breach of the peace. I spent the night of my daughter's seventh birthday in a police cell.
I went up before the magistrate the next morning. I'd seen a duty solicitor who advised me to plea guilty. I refused. I said I'd do no such thing, because the only reason I was at their house was because my stepmother had lied to my daughters teacher, who had told me my daughter had been taken out of school to see me. So in my mind, I wasn't trespassing (which the cops had also accused me of). I basically had a sincere belief that I was going to see my daughter.
I was let out of court. The charges were eventually dropped.
But the next day, I went back to the cop shop, asked to speak to someone. I spoke with a CID officer. Explained it all to him. The circumstances, how stepmother had lied to teacher, which is how I'd been misled and turned up there. I explained the background of the court proceedings. I said I was concerned for my daughter's safety now that my father had assaulted me again as an adult, proving he was still a violent man. I said if he's done it to me, he'll do it to her.
I said I wanted my father charged. I told the cop that my father should've been prosecuted when I was taken into care, but the social services hadn't followed their own procedures.
The cop said the historic stuff didn't matter. Even if my father had been prosecuted back then, the childhood abuse couldn't be brought up if they prosecuted him for this more recent incident, because it would be prejudicial.
So I asked the cop when would they take action against my father what would it take?
The cop said "attempted murder".
I replied "There's a fine line between attempted murder and murder, and what happens if you don't get there in time the next time?"
And then I estranged myself from my family for around eight years. Because I knew that the cops wouldn't do anything and the next time my father might kill me.
Initially, I did phone and write to the social services, point out through my solicitor that if my father was still this violent then he might, actually, would harm my daughter, but all the 'experts' rubbished me.
I was basically victim-blamed in some way. I was a care leaver. I'd been in care. I was stigmatised as the bad behaviour child. (Despite the social services failure to prosecute my father for what he did to me.) It was like it was somehow my fault I'd been abused, because just because I'd been abused didn't mean he'd abuse her.
Until he did.
I was living and working in Beijing at the time. When I said I was estranged from my family (and her father for that matter), I meant it. I was pretty much on the other side of the world. Until I got an email from an uncle, who'd managed to track me down through an old school friend through Friends Reunited.
It transpired that my father had assaulted my daughter quite badly when she was 15, beat her, pulled her hair out, etc. She'd run away. Ended up living with my older sister. I offered to fly her out, but she wanted to stay and do her GCSEs. I flew back a few months later, saw her for the first time in all those years.
I kind of hoped she'd come back to live with me, but she never did.
Oh, I forgot to mention that my stepmother had a creepy obsession with lifelike collectible dolls. In hindsight, I think it was perhaps related to an obsession with wanting children with my father, but like I said, they couldn't have children together.
Given how things panned out, how they offered to look after my daughter while I studied, but then as soon as I asked for her back they went to court behind my back, and then they spent years frustrating all the court ordered contact and always, always, at the point there were supposed to be overnight visits to build up to my daughter coming back to live with me, they always broke off contact, so it never happened... and given they wanted children together but couldn't have them, in hindsight I can't help but believe they always planned to 'steal' my daughter so she could be the child they never had. And the State colluded and conspired and helped them to steal my daughter from me.
We were in contact for a while, but then she basically blamed me for what happened to her, how I left her there to be battered by my father who had battered me previously. Despite my warnings to all the 'experts' that he would do it to her, all the experts who pooh-poohed me and then how it all came to pass how I feared and predicted it would. And she's never forgiven me.
The end.
I knew what they were like. I was anticipating the worst. So I figured I'd go to her school, see her in the school playground at lunch time, tell her happy birthday. I'd had a few phone calls with my solicitor on route. Final check, calling my solicitor from a phone round the corner from her school. No joy. My solicitor still hadn't heard from their solicitor. So I went to the school. Couldn't see her in the playground. Went into the school to find her. Asked her teacher.
Apparently, my stepmother/my daughter's grandmother, had told her teacher that she was taking her out of school that afternoon because she was seeing me. I was so happy to hear that. I figured their solicitor and my solicitor must've finally sorted it out.
Went round the corner to their house to see my daughter who had, according to what my stepmother told my daughter's teacher, been taken out of school to spend time with me! Hurrah!
Except my father answered their door and then quickly tried to slam the door in my face, but I was quicker and put my foot in the door so he couldn't close it. He was pushing the door on my foot, so I was shouting and pushing back as my foot was trapped. Maybe he let go of the door, I don't know. I vaguely remember being up against the side of the porch with his hands round my throat. At some point, I ended up on the floor in the porch writhing and kicking and my foot went through a small glass door panel. I vaguely remember cops turning up and several cops having to drag him off me.
It turned out the neighbours had heard my shouts and screams and called the police.
At the time, I didn't know the difference between civil law and criminal law. My attitude to the cops was like, You're here! I have a court order to see my daughter and they're refusing to let me see my daughter! Make it happen! The cops tried to explain to me that they couldn't do that, but I wasn't having it. I refused to leave without seeing my daughter on her 7th birthday. The cops threatened to arrest me for breach of the peace. I protested that I had a court order saying I could see my daughter and they weren't going along with it.
I did get arrested for breach of the peace. I spent the night of my daughter's seventh birthday in a police cell.
I went up before the magistrate the next morning. I'd seen a duty solicitor who advised me to plea guilty. I refused. I said I'd do no such thing, because the only reason I was at their house was because my stepmother had lied to my daughters teacher, who had told me my daughter had been taken out of school to see me. So in my mind, I wasn't trespassing (which the cops had also accused me of). I basically had a sincere belief that I was going to see my daughter.
I was let out of court. The charges were eventually dropped.
But the next day, I went back to the cop shop, asked to speak to someone. I spoke with a CID officer. Explained it all to him. The circumstances, how stepmother had lied to teacher, which is how I'd been misled and turned up there. I explained the background of the court proceedings. I said I was concerned for my daughter's safety now that my father had assaulted me again as an adult, proving he was still a violent man. I said if he's done it to me, he'll do it to her.
I said I wanted my father charged. I told the cop that my father should've been prosecuted when I was taken into care, but the social services hadn't followed their own procedures.
The cop said the historic stuff didn't matter. Even if my father had been prosecuted back then, the childhood abuse couldn't be brought up if they prosecuted him for this more recent incident, because it would be prejudicial.
So I asked the cop when would they take action against my father what would it take?
The cop said "attempted murder".
I replied "There's a fine line between attempted murder and murder, and what happens if you don't get there in time the next time?"
And then I estranged myself from my family for around eight years. Because I knew that the cops wouldn't do anything and the next time my father might kill me.
Initially, I did phone and write to the social services, point out through my solicitor that if my father was still this violent then he might, actually, would harm my daughter, but all the 'experts' rubbished me.
I was basically victim-blamed in some way. I was a care leaver. I'd been in care. I was stigmatised as the bad behaviour child. (Despite the social services failure to prosecute my father for what he did to me.) It was like it was somehow my fault I'd been abused, because just because I'd been abused didn't mean he'd abuse her.
Until he did.
I was living and working in Beijing at the time. When I said I was estranged from my family (and her father for that matter), I meant it. I was pretty much on the other side of the world. Until I got an email from an uncle, who'd managed to track me down through an old school friend through Friends Reunited.
It transpired that my father had assaulted my daughter quite badly when she was 15, beat her, pulled her hair out, etc. She'd run away. Ended up living with my older sister. I offered to fly her out, but she wanted to stay and do her GCSEs. I flew back a few months later, saw her for the first time in all those years.
I kind of hoped she'd come back to live with me, but she never did.
Oh, I forgot to mention that my stepmother had a creepy obsession with lifelike collectible dolls. In hindsight, I think it was perhaps related to an obsession with wanting children with my father, but like I said, they couldn't have children together.
Given how things panned out, how they offered to look after my daughter while I studied, but then as soon as I asked for her back they went to court behind my back, and then they spent years frustrating all the court ordered contact and always, always, at the point there were supposed to be overnight visits to build up to my daughter coming back to live with me, they always broke off contact, so it never happened... and given they wanted children together but couldn't have them, in hindsight I can't help but believe they always planned to 'steal' my daughter so she could be the child they never had. And the State colluded and conspired and helped them to steal my daughter from me.
We were in contact for a while, but then she basically blamed me for what happened to her, how I left her there to be battered by my father who had battered me previously. Despite my warnings to all the 'experts' that he would do it to her, all the experts who pooh-poohed me and then how it all came to pass how I feared and predicted it would. And she's never forgiven me.
The end.
AnnO'Neemus
Is so vanilla
tl:dr Sorry for the derail, I just had to explain how and why it is possible to have your child (sort of) taken off you when you've done nothing wrong, other than be a poor care leaver single gym slip mother, indebted and in a shit low-paid job, struggling to make ends meet, figuring the only way out is to play the long game and get some qualifications and a decent job, and then the family members who offered to temporarily care for your child refuse to give her back, and then the State colludes and approves of the theft of your child.
zedr
new but not *that* new
fuck. thats so sad. I'm so sorry that happened to you. thank you for sharing.
krtek a houby
Merry Xmas!
Fwiw, I've worked with Pavee and Roma in the past and witnessed first hand intimidation and discrimination, so forgive me if I get a bit upset over some comments here.
(However, it's not a competition and you're right - I shouldn't derail, so will shut the fuck up and exit the thread.)
petee
no gods, no malarkey
never change.
Council to review child protection case that triggered Leeds unrest
‘Serious disorder’ in Harehills began after children from Roma family taken into care
Would the review have happened without the rioting?
InArduisFouette
Well-Known Member
And that is the reality that i think any of us who have worked in roles where safeguarding of children and young people is even tangentially related have seen, in no small part becasue the pendulum swung one way after the satanic abuse cases and didn;t get brought back into check until Victoria ClimbieThat sounds terrible
Maybe I should rephrase what I said. In over 20 years of working in a job where safeguarding is paramount, I've never heard of it happening. The opposite in fact. Kids get left in situations they should be removed from. However, no system is perfect.
Nice bit of mob rule. “Sorry about the bad parenting and rioting but probably best if you give the kid back or there will be more”.Council to review child protection case that triggered Leeds unrest
‘Serious disorder’ in Harehills began after children from Roma family taken into care
Would the review have happened without the rioting?
"Subcontinent" is a weird fucking choice of word for Europe. There is certainly a case to be made that it is technically a subcontinent but it is generally accepted as and referred to as a continent. Is this Farage being deep into Eurasianism or what?
Puddy_Tat
naturally fluffy
i assume he means as in the Indian subcontinent
eta - for clarity, my translating doesn't in any way mean i am agreeing with the rancid racist twat
klang
klang
AnnO'Neemus obviously i can't nor want to advice or comment, and your incredibly personal and thought provoking post deserves a lot more than a few hastily composed lines of someone who knows ansolutely nothing about you and your history
But I appreciate that the topic of this thread and the subsequent replies must have hit something very raw and stirred up a lot of issues.
I appreciate that you took the time to share and explain your situation.
I read with interest, for want of better wording.
I wish you the very best of luck x
But I appreciate that the topic of this thread and the subsequent replies must have hit something very raw and stirred up a lot of issues.
I appreciate that you took the time to share and explain your situation.
I read with interest, for want of better wording.
I wish you the very best of luck x
That's still weird to refer to India as "the" subcontinent, and still doesn't really make sense, a riot in Leeds over (apparently) a child protection dispute is the politics of India? Genuinely not getting what his angle is here.
Puddy_Tat
naturally fluffy
i think it's somewhat old fashioned, but i've heard it a few times - maybe in relation to cricket and generalising about india / pakistan / bangladesh (i'm not sure if sri lanka counts)
stirring up racism, like his angle on most things.
LakieLady
Well-Known Member
I think his angle is the same as ever, saying things that stay just the right side of racism but racists will see as "common sense" and "telling it like it is" and feel vindicated in their views.
I don’t need to read anything Farage said to understand what’s happened.
tim
EXPLODED TIM! (Help me!!!)
You don't need to read him because you believe the same racist and classist tropes
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