Mother and son at war over Brexit
It’s a debate that’s bitterly divided so many families. Now read the brave and heartfelt letters between the . . .
NEVER was the generational divide more apparent than after last year’s EU referendum.
Now, with Brexit at the forefront of general election campaigning, that schism remains in sharp focus.
It’s an issue that has driven a wedge between many families.
This is what happened to Andy West, 35, a writer and broadcaster who lives in London, after he posted a series of rants on social media about what he viewed as the ‘bigoted racist’ older generation who voted to Leave the EU.
To his like- minded friends, they were reasonable comments to make.
But to his Leave-voting mother, retired teacher Pauline Morris, 64, from Buckinghamshire, it certainly felt like the ultimate betrayal.
Thoroughly fed up with the blaming and name- calling surrounding Brexit, she wrote him a letter, and in doing so, has put into words the feelings of countless others in the same position.
Andrew,
YOU know my love for you is absolute. But your online posts have hurt me so deeply. It feels like you are attacking me personally. Are you? We talked before the referendum, and I’d believed we could respect each other’s opinions, but I see now that you despised mine.
How could you think I don’t care about your future or the NHS, and that I’m ignorant and stupid? After all the love and care I’ve given, and still give, you and your brother and sister. After I’ve explained my beliefs.
Remember the day you told me you were gay? I drove for three hours that same morning to give you a hug. When you lost your job at the BBC last year and had to move home, I was there to step in. When you children were young, I put my career as a teacher, which I loved, on hold to be the best mum I could.
Of course I care about the NHS and the people who work there. I’m still recovering from my hysterectomy two months ago and I’m very grateful to the nurses — many of whom came from abroad — who work so hard. But even you must see the NHS is struggling. They had to send me to a private ward as the hospital was full to bursting. We just can’t cope with the influx of people from other countries.
You imply that old people (like me), who have struggled through our lives, haven’t got many years ahead of us, so young people are more important. Do you think about how callous and prejudiced that sounds? You accuse us of bigotry, but that’s what you’re exhibiting towards us. Has it ever occurred to you that we have amassed wisdom? That maybe, just maybe, we make good points, too?
My father used to say things that I thought were silly. It turned out, as I went through life, he’d spoken sense. I realised that I’d often been wrong, but because I’d kept quiet I didn’t look a fool when it became apparent he was right. I hadn’t offended him in the meantime either.
I know your stepfather, Danny, and uncle, Malcolm, are as hurt as I’ve been by your comments. Danny has been like a father and a friend to you, supporting you and giving you advice. Is he now to be dismissed as old and ignorant? Of course not. Malcolm is your godfather, and even when you’ve offended him, he has always offered you a place to stay if you need it.
These people love you, and yet you think nothing of publicly dismissing them — and me — as bigots and racists. Do you think because we’re older we won’t see what you’re saying about us on social media? Your comments are getting more painful and I can’t stay silent any more.
You said on Facebook that older people are selfish by voting for Brexit, and don’t care about the future. You said on Twitter that people voting for Brexit must be ‘stupid’ and ‘bigoted’. Have your views, but don’t ram them down everyone’s throats, and give us credit for having the intelligence to make decisions.
My darling son, when you equate worries about immigration with racism, you miss the point. Not unreasonably, we just want to know who is coming into the country and what they can bring to the equation.
Immigration can be a good thing, but if you simply open the borders then you get all aspects of humanity. We welcome people with the skill sets we sorely lack, like doctors, nurses, pharmacists and scientists.
What we don’t want is a steady stream of unqualified people coming and working for a pittance, undercutting our already hard-pushed British workforce. Nor do we want criminals who care nothing for our country. That way the country deteriorates, the poor get poorer and we all pay the price in the long run.
TELL
me, Andrew, what’s so wrong with thinking that — with wanting control over who comes into Britain and the ability to decide if we can no longer cope?
We want British people to be able to apply for factory jobs and not be turned away for speaking English not Polish. There are examples of British companies specifically targeting workers in Poland, as they’re prepared to put up with worse working conditions and lower pay. We want a good future for everyone.
We don’t want to leave Europe, but we do want to leave the EU. It was sold to us as a trading opportunity, but I believe it’s become unwieldy — a farce. How can you ever hope to find agreement among 28 member countries, let alone be sure that Britain’s interests are assured?
We want to govern ourselves, to command our own destiny — and if we’re not happy with our leaders, we want the right to vote them out. The EU — with its unelected commissioners who wield such influence — seems to offer none of that.
That Jean- Claude Juncker, President of the European Commission, often appears to be drunk, to me sums up all that’s wrong with the EU. Your stepfather and I don’t always vote for the same party. We’re not dyed-in-the-wool Tories. But we don’t trust Jeremy Corbyn to stop immigration and get us out of Europe.
Your generation has never had to live with the consequences of allowing the trade unions too much power — and Corbyn intends to give them more influence — as happened in the Winter of Discontent, so how can you possibly understand?
And yet your generation patronises us, based on nothing more than blind optimism. It is unfair. I so want you to be happy. I think the bile spewed by so many online can take over a person and cause unhappiness.
Many of the people, on Twitter especially, sound like they’re crazy. You are exposing yourself to their madness, but I’d suggest you stand back and look after you. It’s not
‘Mum’s beliefs seem ill-informed, blinkered and even racist’
being selfish, it’s self preservation.
I know I’ll think long and hard about this for some time to come. I’m upset writing it. My intention is to close my Facebook and Twitter accounts. You know I will always love and support you. Is it really so much to ask for your respect in return?
With my deepest love,
Mum xxx My amazing Mum,
YOU never smacked me as a child, but this letter feels like a punch to the stomach. Reading it has left me feeling so sad I’m struggling to put it into words.
Do you remember when I was four and I got myself stuck behind that railing and the fire brigade had to come and squeeze me out? I felt so ashamed because I could see you were exasperated, worried and embarrassed. I cried then because I loved you and looked up to you and I was sorry. Turns out, nothing changes. Have I really made you feel so awful?
The thought I might have caused you so much pain kills me as I know how much you love me, but at the same time, I feel like I’m being told off for doing what you brought me up to do: speak out, be brave, stand up for my beliefs.
I have watched you fight for what you believe in. When you were a teacher, it was you who stood up to the school and carried on caring about the children, rather than their obsession with paperwork. I was so proud when you fought the council over the bullying of other teachers and won.
You have never hidden your views from me. When I describe you to my friends I tell them — with real pride — that my mum is a fighter who doesn’t take any nonsense.
Don’t you see? The man you brought into the world is following your lead. When I speak my mind on Facebook and Twitter, I do it knowing that, unlike most people, you and I are strong enough to fight for what we know is right.
It has been a depressing and unnerving thing to discover that what I know to be right means that you must surely be wrong. I am so sorry, but when we talk about Brexit your beliefs seem ill-informed, blinkered and even — I don’t want to write this — racist. I hate that word because I know it’s clumsy and unfair.
You are not a racist person and you have never been prejudiced. You’ve had friends and colleagues from around the world, and as a teacher, you did your very best for the children who were struggling to learn English. You are kind, generous and caring. When I came out as gay you showed me complete, unquestioning love.
But mum, you generalise about people ‘coming over here and taking our jobs’ when I simply don’t see that happening. I’m not attacking you personally in my posts. However, I can’t button my lip on issues such as Brexit and the General Election just because it might hurt my mum’s feelings, can I?
The truth is, I do find it tough when I hear you talking about foreign people as if they are ruining Britain. As a Londoner, I live with immigrants, work with immigrants, drink and eat with immigrants and they are kind, hard-working, brilliant people. You’ve told me you sometimes feel like this isn’t your country any more because people speak in different languages.
Mum, you live in a white, British, middle- class suburb in Bucking- hamshire. The people you’re talking about are a tiny minority in your world, yet you sometimes speak as if they’re a tsunami of invading aliens.
I don’t believe they are. They are just people, looking for a better life. Those foreign people you want kicked out looked after you in hospital after your operation. They installed your new kitchen and painted the bathroom.
They do a thousand jobs British people can’t be bothered to do. Most work hard, pay taxes and get along without using the NHS or claiming welfare.
You say that you care for the future of our country, but Brexit feels like a real threat to people my age — it does seem like older voters don’t care about that.
To me, your generation has had it very good indeed, and it’s made you, as a whole, arrogant and selfish. You want me to respect your point of view, but can’t you listen to ours?
UNLIkE
your generation, we don’t have job security or generous pensions or cheap houses or free university education. Our future is uncertain. And now your generation has skewed the national vote and — I believe — thrown everything into even greater uncertainty.
I’m sorry if I’ve made it seem as if your generation is less important than mine, and I apologise if I’ve seemed disrespectful. I have a lot to learn from you, but your son has travelled the world, met incredible people and lives in a cosmopolitan city. Isn’t there a chance you could learn something from me, too?
Is isolating ourselves as a country wise right now? Would your parents and grandparents, who lived through world wars, have thought it was a good idea to break ties with Europe? Is making sweeping statements about people because they weren’t born here a good idea? I just don’t think it is.
I want you to be happy and let go of all your anger and fear and jump into this wonderful, colourful mess of people with me. I guess that’s patronising but it’s how I feel.
Despite all of this, I’m going to focus on the good stuff we have. I agree people on Twitter can be crazy. I agree sometimes I should keep schtum and let others speak out. I agree that I must be an exhausting and exasperating son.
But Mum, never, ever think I am an unloving one. You are everything to me, and no matter how vehemently we disagree about things, I will always know that when you have something to say to me or anyone else, you’ll say it, just as you have in this letter.
The problem is, when I write things you find confrontational, I emulate you. So when you think about it . . . it’s kind of your fault.
With deepest love,
Andy xxx
‘Andrew accuses me of bigotry – but he’s the one who’s guilty’