I loved reading this. It struck a chord in the sense that my grandfather was forced to leave school and sent to work down a mine at the age of 14 in order to provide for the family. He hated it. He found escape in books and attended night classes in economics and philosophy. At 17 he led a strike at the pit, later becoming a Labour councillor, teacher and Headmaster. His toil at the literal coalface, turning over spade after spade of coal and at the local library, turning those many thousands of pages are the reasons I sit here now. A teacher myself. We often forget that we are composites and creations of our ancestors, not merely in blood and bone, but because of the work they put in. Thanks for making me think of all this again.
Thanks for your thoughtful comment. I think about this kind of thing a lot, it runs deeper in the UK than other places I think. Maybe because everywhere else doesn’t have this silly idea of a class system 😀
With all the ways I've thought of work, I would've never made the connections you made here - especially as hard work relates to writing. And I so enjoy reading you - it is effortless to read your big ideas, and making something effortless to read takes a lot of effort. (or, it takes a lot of effort for me ha!)
Loved it, can relate. My parents have lived their whole life in the same village, working and all. My father and grandfather built a house together with their bare hands, despite difficult times. Cannot imagine myself doing that. Just like you mentioned, I mostly tap a keyboard these days 🤷 Sometimes it feels weird and it’s hard to perceive it as “work”, especially on the days I just sit and talk to people for 6-8 hours via zoom.
I loved reading this. It struck a chord in the sense that my grandfather was forced to leave school and sent to work down a mine at the age of 14 in order to provide for the family. He hated it. He found escape in books and attended night classes in economics and philosophy. At 17 he led a strike at the pit, later becoming a Labour councillor, teacher and Headmaster. His toil at the literal coalface, turning over spade after spade of coal and at the local library, turning those many thousands of pages are the reasons I sit here now. A teacher myself. We often forget that we are composites and creations of our ancestors, not merely in blood and bone, but because of the work they put in. Thanks for making me think of all this again.
Thanks for your thoughtful comment. I think about this kind of thing a lot, it runs deeper in the UK than other places I think. Maybe because everywhere else doesn’t have this silly idea of a class system 😀
With all the ways I've thought of work, I would've never made the connections you made here - especially as hard work relates to writing. And I so enjoy reading you - it is effortless to read your big ideas, and making something effortless to read takes a lot of effort. (or, it takes a lot of effort for me ha!)
Haha. Thanks for the kind words, really appreciate it.
Loved it, can relate. My parents have lived their whole life in the same village, working and all. My father and grandfather built a house together with their bare hands, despite difficult times. Cannot imagine myself doing that. Just like you mentioned, I mostly tap a keyboard these days 🤷 Sometimes it feels weird and it’s hard to perceive it as “work”, especially on the days I just sit and talk to people for 6-8 hours via zoom.
I can’t ever imagine myself building a house. But maybe I should go do it to prove I could.