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Rebecca McCormick
You Can Always Tell A Yorkshireman, But You Can’t Tell Him Much
I was born in the middle of the 1984-1985 Miners’ Strike in an area where mining was the way of life, where pit heads were in the middle of villages, where men arriving home dirty with coal was very much the norm. My grandfather was a miner. I grew up playing on slag heaps. The old pit wheel in my dad’s home village is next to the church where we buried him. The pits closed, and closed, and closed in Yorkshire, until there were no jobs left. I was born into that.
In April 1989, when I was five, the Hillsborough Disaster happened. My parents were football fans – my dad liked Tottenham because it was the first team he ever saw on the TV in 1964, and my mum still supports Man Utd because her first boyfriend did. They were watching the FA Cup semi-final between Liverpool and Notts Forest, or watched the news very shortly afterwards. They were shocked and appalled by the reactions of the police on the day and after, and instilled into me two things that I still stand by: number one, All Coppers Are Bastards, and number two, it doesn’t matter who your football allegiance lies with, because that day we were all Liverpool fans.
Fast forward to 1997. There was a General Election, but I was 13 and more concerned with Placebo and Suede and Blur, and whether I was wearing enough eyeliner. The day after the election though, my parents were bleary-eyed and glued to the news on the tiny portable TV we had in the kitchen. They had stayed up all night to watch the results of the election. There had been 18 years of Conservative rule under Thatcher and Major. There were young adults walking around who had never lived differently, and there were teens like me who had no other frame of reference. New Labour didn’t turn out great, but on that May morning we were so happy and hopeful for the future. My parents had watched the entire thing unfold the night before, and were especially gleeful when Michael Portillo lost his seat.
Then there was the music. The Manic Street Preachers, to begin with, who came from a place like where I grew up, who were left-leaning and political. Who put me on a feminist path. Who said, after devolution for Wales, that parts of the north like Yorkshire needed devolution too. Punk bands came soon afterwards. They continue to be a big part of my life and my politics.
I studied Theology & Religious Studies for my BA. There are as many different religious beliefs as there are people. Everyone has their own beliefs, and it is influenced by culture and politics and a million other things. Each belief system is equally valid. I love to learn about how people came to their beliefs, especially if they are in league with my own. Above are just a few significant events that have shaped my thought systems. Let me get us a drink each, because I’d like to listen to how you came to yours.
remembering who we are 