BLOGMAS| My People


I very rarely share any pieces of writing on this blog. Maybe, once before? And that was only this year. But, when I was putting together the list of things I wanted to put on here this blogmas, I couldn't help feel like I wanted to share something. I want to celebrate where I am in my writing, who I've become and overcome.

This piece was a response to a piece of writing we looked at during my Working Class Fictions module titled "My People" by Kim Moore. I submitted it in my portfolio and got some fantastic feedback, so here it is: 

My People 

          She told me to write about my people. About the working class hidden in the suburbia of 

London towns. You see, I come from a place where postcodes feed postcodes, until there is nothing 

left but a homeless lottery, hidden in plain sight, a box room for a family of four, a bathroom without 

a lock, the three-bus journey for family that comes first. We’re way out in Zones 4 to 6, with Oyster 

cards teetering on a balance, a possibility of a maybe we’ll manage just one more bus. We grasp our 

blue plastic cards between our palms, whispering “please, just one more trip” cause God-forbid a 

seven miles hike between Plumstead and Peckham High Street. My people know not to dare to plan 

anything between three and five, Mon to Fri. And we best try to avoid eye contact with anyone whilst

we have nowhere else to hide. Are we meant to be Millwall Lions, or are we supposed to brandish 

Charlton’s sword, when we’re planning our meals at a bob a head? And our school uniforms are just

some threads? But I guess this is all alright because Jamie Oliver gave us free school meals and 

Sainsbury vouchers for keeping fit. My people are stereotyped for our nation as we try to thrive, by 

clinging to the suburbia of our London towns. 

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