In part 8 of her series exposing the rot in the charity sector, Alice Smith asks - where are the stories and histories of poor people? Held hostage by greedy charities. Can we be heard in the charity sector if we 'lost' or do we have to 'win' an empty award to be heard? Let's decide here and now - We can change the story because we ARE the story.
I want to decide what my story is worth.
I want to hear poor people's stories. I want to hear my story. It's as simple and as complicated as that. I want to hear about the losses of face, teeth, jobs, houses. I want to hear about that look the landlord/teacher/social worker/nurses gives you. I want to hear about the tiredness, the snot covered, out lovered crying, the court appearance with the empty chair across from you, the magistrate's lack of eye contact and searching for bus fare in every pocket you have.
I want to hear how women's eyes skim over you in the office where you wait. You smell of nylon and cheap trainers and you can't afford a haircut. Tell me about it. I want to hear what shoes you can't afford to fix, spooning beans out of the tin. I want to hear about how the buck stops with you and how that feels.
I want to see what you see at the school gates over the shiny hair of those other mother/daughters. I want to feel the shame of hiding that you can't afford it. But only for a minute.........
I want honesty. I want to hear poor people's stories. I want to hear my own story. From From my own mouth. Not from a charity event where 'lived experience' is the sideshow.
Can ugly girls win? And who owns the microphone?
I want to hear about ugly childhoods where you were blissfully unaware but that mother laid down a blanket on her sofa in case she 'caught something.' I want to hear about nits, the belt, a mouthful of lemon sherberts as the only comfort you have and second hand Christmas presents.
I want to hear your story. I want to hear my story. I don't want to hear it from charities at award evenings they pay themselves to attend. I don't want to hear it from the courts, the media, the 'winners,' domestic violence poster girls, ambassadors of the Freedom project.
I want to hear it from you.
I don't want to share my story for Lovetoshop vouchers because although M & S is on the list, 25 quid doesn't curb my hunger and the shop assistants know I don't belong in here.
I want to decide what my story is worth.
I want to hear poor people's stories. I want to hear about the drink, the drugs, the false steps, the evictions, taking him back, betraying yourself and above all I want to hear about what all that freedom cost you. Financially. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally.
I want to hear poor people's stories - not at events where you are the unpaid freak show. Not at fake awards ceremonies (how can you judge loss?) These people aren't listening to you. They're listening to the funders opening their wallets made in the slave trade because you hold the key that opens up the Funding Vault - 'Lived experience.' Whatever that means.
No. I want to hear poor people's stories from them. From you. From me. Cheap hair, shaking hands, broken boots, missing teeth. I'm not looking at your roots. But charities are. And these little details about you (status markers) scare the charities. Think of it this way - it's a dinner party but your place is in the servants quarters in the basement.
Smoking. Stoned. Disassociated. Losing. The loser. I want to hear from you. I want to hear from people who 'lost' in this system - from their own mouths. With or without lipstick, lips split or intact.
Let's cut out the middle women who give us awards for our loss and small grants for our ideas like Lady Bountiful whilst enjoying dinner at our expense. Let's decide here and now - No more stories to fund their lifestyles. Let's decide now - We decide the value of our stories. Let's decide now - No more judging our loss whilst pocketing a cheque from funders. Let's start talking to each. Ready? Contact Alice at 361diamond.co.uk
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