The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Saturday
JENNI MURRAY
What would your younger self make of your life today? 68, journalist and broadcaster
Iwas aware from being very small that my name was David Robert – until the moment I appeared. My mother had absolutely assumed she would have a son, and she didn’t, she had me. Then, because she had such a rough time having me she decided she would stop at one. It meant I had a strange relationship with her. She really wanted me to be a boy and do everything that boys did, like work hard and ride bicycles and wear dungarees. But at the same time she wanted me to be everything that a girl should be; spending a lot of time with her in the kitchen and wearing my hair in pigtails. So I was quite confused. I don’t think it has ever resolved itself. I’ve always been extremely ambitious as a result of her pushing me. Her expectations were so powerful that she’s been dead for 12 years now and I still feel her sitting on my shoulder.
My father was the classic Northern, working-class man who left school when he was 14 and got a job in a television repair shop. He was doing the electrics for a play my mother was in when they met. Apparently he mistakenly opened her dressing room door when she was in her bra and pants. He was terribly embarrassed but decided in that moment she was the woman he would marry.
They had the most amazing marriage. But her pushy nature meant Dad went to night school and became an electrical engineer, which led to him working abroad a lot.
When she was away with him, I would stay with my grandparents in Barnsley. I got away with murder when I was with them.
From the age of five I was sent to elocution lessons, so I didn’t “talk broad” like all the other kids. I loved the lessons. Every Friday night we read poetry and plays. I learnt to breathe and how to develop my voice.
I wanted to be an actor but at 17 I saw Vanessa Redgrave perform and I knew I could never be quite as good as that and I’d spend my life on the dole.
Instead I went to Hull and studied French and drama. Thinking about how I could combine my love of performance with writing and my growing interest in politics led me into journalism.
Local radio was just beginning to burgeon, but when I applied to be a studio manager at the BBC I didn’t get past the initial interview. I’d spent the journey down from Barnsley reading about microphones and neglected to read the papers, so when they asked me what the Prime Minister was doing that day, I was stumped. I got a job at BBC Radio Bristol and that was it.
I don’t think my younger self would be surprised that I’ve championed women’s issues. I recognised very early on that girls did not have it as easy as boys did. My best friend, John, got away with everything.
Then as a teenager, Dad was away and Mum was at home bored out of her brain. When I said “Why don’t you get a job?” she said, “Oh Jen, I can’t do that. People will think Daddy can’t afford to keep us!” That struck me strongly. I told her it’s about what makes you happy. From that point on she went out and got a job and it completely changed her life.
Without question we’ve made enormous changes for women in the past 100 years. There are lots of young women who aren’t afraid to call themselves feminists now. I’ve got sons who are better cooks than I am. That’s a real advance.
I always thought I’d have daughters, but I’ve been very happy with my two sons. They’re great.
My younger self would think I spend just the right amount of time on my appearance. I use the same eye make-up that I used to fight with my mother about when I was a teenager. She only stopped complaining about it when I was in my 30s.
An elderly neighbour said to me the other day, “There’s nothing to look forward to when you get old”. I thought, “How depressingly awful”. My knees might be stiffer, hips replaced, and hopefully the breast cancer that was dealt with 12 years ago is over, but I want to keep on working. But you have to acknowledge, as Bette Davis once said to me: “Getting older isn’t for sissies.”
A History of the World in 21 Women by Jenni Murray (published by Oneworld). is available for £14.99 plus p&p from books.telegraph. co.uk