Lianne Howard-Dace, Volunteer Coordinator and Fundraising Consultant
Marcus Rashford’s recent campaigns and the related debates have brought up a lot of feelings for me. Some of the rhetoric about families on free school meals has upset and angered me. And it feels personal.
My brushes with poverty as a child have influenced the work I do now, fundraising and marketing for charities. And it’s why I’m so passionate and driven by the work that Bankuet does. But the stigma and shame of being poor runs so deep it’s something I try not to dwell on. I’m now lucky enough to have the privilege of not having to think about it much. As a white woman with a southern accent it's easy for me to blend in with the middle-class world I now mostly find myself in.
I had free school meals on and off as a kid. When I was eight or so, both my parents were out of work for a couple of years, so my sister and I qualified for free lunches. At primary school the names of the kids who had school dinners were all ticked off the same list - whether your parents paid or not - so no one else could tell. I thought it was kind of nice they gave us free food, and I was happy not to have to keep eating the orange Club biscuits my mum insisted on putting in my lunch box.
“Poverty is multi-faceted and, if you haven’t experienced it, it likely doesn’t look how you expect.”
When I had to get free school meals again at secondary school the whole process was much more awkward. I had to get in line with the other poor kids and take a cloakroom ticket to “pay” for my meal at the till. It was humiliating. At 13, I knew it was another reason I would never be cool, along with having the wrong brand of school shoes and trainers.
I’m very lucky that I never went without food as a child, but I expect I'll never really know how close that sometimes came. Or the debts my parents juggled to stop it from happening. And whilst we didn't know all the details, there was often a sense of precarity. My siblings and I would pick up on things. Like the fact I couldn't do ballet with my best friend because we couldn't afford it, not that I was too tall to be a ballerina as my mum tried to convince me.
My mum is amazing. I could not ask for a better cheerleader. After my parents divorced, money was even tighter. At one point she was working two jobs and yet there never seemed to be quite enough to go round. I would hide letters about school trips because I knew we couldn’t afford them and I didn’t want her to feel bad. But in the holidays we would take a cheap train up to London with a picnic lunch and visit the museums. With the little she had, my mum broadened my horizons. I’m only sorry I’m not likely to ever be able to repay her in quite the way Marcus Rashford has his mum. Sport was never my strong suit.
“ One of the things that has inspired me the most is the importance they place on giving the people who use food banks dignity. ”
Getting to be the first person in my family to go to university wasn’t the lottery ticket I expected it to be. I know now that a university education isn’t the best option for everyone, but as a teenager it felt like my only way out. I got into a lot of credit card debt at uni, trying to keep up with my friends. It’s hard knowing how to look after money when all you’ve seen is the “getting through the next week” approach to budgeting. I’m still learning now.
After I graduated I had to move back home, to my horror, and for the first few months I was unemployed. I got job seekers allowance but - even though my mum probably wasn’t earning much more than minimum wage at that time - I couldn’t get housing benefit because I lived with family. She didn’t get to see my graduation ceremony because we couldn’t afford her ticket and train fair on top of my travel and gown rental costs.
I don’t say this for pity. My upbringing has made me who I am today and I know there are many who’ve had it far worse. I say it because I want people to understand that poverty is multi-faceted and, if you haven’t experienced it, it likely doesn’t look how you expect. The extreme portrayals that we see on TV are exactly that, extreme. Most people are simply trying to look after their families, doing what they can to put food on the table and bearing the cognitive and emotional burden of doing one-step-forward, two-steps-back footwork as they dance around the poverty line.
At Bankuet we’re privileged to get to hear from those on the food bank frontline. One of the things that has inspired me the most is the importance they place on giving the people who use food banks dignity. They do amazing work, and the generosity of spirit with which they approach it is incredible.
None of us knows what the next year holds. I've been ok so far but, as a freelancer, the current economic uncertainty may very well have an impact on me in the coming months. At the start of lockdown I was very anxious that I may have to claim benefits again. I’d built a successful career doing what I love, I’d co-authored a book in my field. The thought of staring poverty in the face again was gut-wrenching. Now, I’m more at peace with the idea. Maybe I will have to sign on. Maybe I’ll have to use a food bank. But if I do, I’ll try to do it with my head held high.
Food banks in your area are helping to feed families in crisis right now. Please give what you can to support their vital work.