Referendum musings from another anxious young person

It's a running joke/tragedy in my family that we never visit anywhere exotic. 75% of my summer holidays throughout my life have been within the UK and the remaining 25% in France. And really, despite the abuse I have given my parents about how culturally deprived I am, there really is nothing wrong with this and I am grateful to have had holidays at all. Albeit consistently rainy ones.

However, in the last few weeks and especially so since this week's referendum result, I have grown to truly appreciate one of our trips far more. The holiday in question was in 2013, the summer I finished my GCSEs, had my braces taken off and played Miranda in my theatre group's production of The Tempest. Life was kind of glorious and the epitome of teenage milestones. My favourite birthday present that year was Tom Odell's Long Way Down album if that adds any social/historical context.

Anyway, my parents took me and my brother to Strasbourg, a beautiful and historical city in North-East France and the capital of the Alsace Region. One day we drove to The Deux-Rives garden, located on the edge of the city, right next to the Rhine river. The garden was huge and we spent some hours walking through it, with my brother and I taking goofy pictures besides various art installations and fountains. As we made our way across the park we came to a river and a huge bridge. What is important here is not the bridge itself but what is and what is not on the other side of it. Germany was on the other side and border control was not.

We walked through a park and into a new country like there were no borders at all. The language written on the road signs changed so unassumingly and I thought that was beautiful. Strasbourg and Kehl, two towns belonging to two different countries were at such harmony with one another and people could walk, as I believe we are supposed to, from one to the next freely and without consequence. I remember asking my parents how this was the case - how each country could trust the other that whoever crossed the bridge was not dangerous and why there was not border control to manage that. And I remember them telling me about the EU and I remember being proud that we were apart of that body.

  

View from the French side of the garden

A View from a Bridge (by Arthur Miller) ((lol))

Kehl, West Germany

Almost three summers have passed since then, and because one of those included my 18th birthday, I can now vote. And the first opportunity of note for me to express this right? The UK's EU referendum: whether to remain or whether to leave. I'm not going to rant about all the reasons I voted to remain or all the reasons I believe voting to leave was wrong. The time for that has passed, and instead I'm going to just put some of my more personal jumbled thoughts post leave (spoiler alert if you've been living in a cupboard: we left. I know right, fools.) into some hopefully coherent words. Read at your own discretion.


I am grateful to have witnessed some of the active functionalities of what it means to be a part of the European Union whilst we were a part of it and it was not some foreign body to envy. I believe the ideals of unity and belonging to a larger body of people are important, and Europe is without question stronger together. I don't think the EU as it currently stands is the perfect answer to our post war need for unity and alliance, but to leave is to take a very, very large step backwards, isolating ourselves at a time of global unease.

Boris Johnson stated before the referendum that if we were to leave, then the 24th June would become our Independence Day, and many people have found much excitement in this prospect. Personally I find it insulting for us to even consider calling the anniversary of our leaving of the European Union an Independence Day. This is not because I voted remain. This is because across the world country after country celebrate a legitimate Independence Day where they rejoice at being freed from our colonial rule. As a country we have a dreadful history of ruling over land that was never rightfully ours and acting as a form of dictatorship over people we deemed lower than ourselves. Being a part of the European Union was absolutely no reflection of the atrocities we committed in our Imperial years and to imply as such is ignorant and offensive. Whatever you chose to believe about the amount of laws passed in Brussels that were out of our control, we surely must all agree that we were by no means oppressed in the EU. And for that reason, for Britain to have an Independence Day would be sickeningly insulting. Of course, Boris never truly believed we'd leave so that statement was never intended to be to be put to use. But for the people I see on my newsfeed using it sincerely, stop.

I was talking to a friend the morning the result was announced and he said 'I don't feel as bad as the day after the general election'. On the contrary, I felt considerably worse and don't get me wrong, I was devastated after the General Election. But his comment got me thinking. In a parliamentary election, no party is the opposite of another; the Conservatives are not the opposite to the Greens, and UKIP are not the opposite of Labour. But in this referendum, 48.1% of those who voted got the exact opposite of what they wanted. And with stakes like that, a difference of less than 2% is not enough. Especially when those who voted leave were lied to. I've seen a lot of parody government petitions floating around making light of the hugely trending petition for a second referendum to take place. These infuriate me because they completely ignore the extent to how different this vote was to anything else in recent history. You simply cannot compare a referendum of this weight and global importance to not winning the lottery. I really really don't want to be close minded or the sort of person to disregard the privilege of freedom of speech or democracy, but there was a right and a wrong choice in this vote. And the wrong choice was picked.

There is much much more I could say on this subject, but from here it would start becoming nonsensical, so I'll finish.

I'm scared for what my future holds and grieve what it could have been within the EU. I feel I have been robbed of what was rightfully mine, but I would be lying if said I could not still feel a small burning flame of youthful optimism inside me. I must now work harder than ever to keep that alive, because the moment that flame burns out is the moment I am truly in danger.

Two countries, both alike in dignity
In fair EU, where I lay this blog

Ro is listening to: For You to be Here by Tom Rosenthal

Things Eliza taught me

So I was in a production of Pygmalion for a month or so and it finished a couple of days ago. It took over my life and I have never been more welcoming to such an invasion. Forgive me if my mourning process is a little unorthodox or you are unsettled by how much of a wet blanket I am.

Eliza Doolittle is by far my favourite role I've ever played. We had some similarities to start with, but throughout the rehearsal process I found her spirit and vitality to be tangible and alive and I know they'll stay with me for a very long time.

Being introduced to Pygmalion and Eliza was just like when you stumble across a text or a song or a film or a person at precisely the right moment in your life and it’s like the stars have aligned above you. You know?

So without further ado, here are some little bits and pieces of thought and philosophy and nonsensical Ro-jumble that I picked up along the way.

· People can influence, teach and inspire you, but your successes are only ever your own. “You won my bet? You presumptuous insect! I won it!”
In reality people generally don’t say things like this because it’s not the 1890s and Henry Higgins is a dick. But it’s easy to feel after an achievement that you owe it to other people. Perhaps it is true that you couldn’t have done it without the help of others, but that doesn’t render your own hard work and time and effort meaningless. Credit where credit is due, but we shouldn’t feel guilty in accepting our medals.

· Define your own self worth, do not place your sense of value in other people's validation.
Not only is this an unhealthy dependency, but that validation may never arrive.
“We didn’t make speeches to her if that’s what you mean.”

· You have no obligation to stay.
I know My Fair Lady and various other adaptations of Pygmalion have taught us to expect Eliza's return despite Higgins mistreatment of her, but Bernard Shaw's original shows much more respectful ambiguity, empowering Eliza with the choice to walk away after she almost becomes a shrinking violet. It is not selfish to put yourself first.
"What you're going to do without me, I cannot imagine."

· Sometimes relationships can't be defined.
Sometimes they're too tender and complexly woven. Sometimes it is enough just to know that you care for someone, regardless of how that is expressed. We shouldn’t try to dilute or reshape these feelings for the sake of being able to define them; let them be unknown, let them be pure. With a little character analysis, it's obvious that Eliza is not going to marry either Higgins or Freddy, so readers and audience members, stop wishing something would happen just to calm your unsettled nerves that have been taught that all relationships must be given names and boundaries.

· Just around the corner from Tottenham Court Road is Wimpole Street.
If I'm using Wimpole Street as a metaphor for hope and a better quality of life, remember that you need not Henry Higgins to invite you there. Be brave enough to "go home in a taxi".

· Perhaps for years and years, no one was interested in your flowers, your chosen trade that you thought people would buy into, but one day someone might be interested in your voice, a trait you were taught to be ashamed of.

So long, Eliza.

I hope you find a little kindness.

Ro is listening to: Rich Girl by Daryl Hall and John Oates