What jobs have you had?

AI title may be an attraction but I still prefer the original:

Serf’s Up

Leaving school with proof of poor attainment leads only one direction.

Political parties do not discuss the modern serf. We are just not important to them. They want our vote. They will promise us better paid jobs. Level up our communities. Things will always get better if we vote for them. The vague promises implied in the sound bite slogan fail to materialise and once more leaving the serf frustrated. Polling suggests people don’t trust politicians. Why is that a surprise?

Right at the bottom rung of employment, serfs are the casualties of economic fluctuations. If profits shrink, the easiest way to lower costs is to lay off the worker. Those at the bottom are an easy target.

When I started my working life unemployment in Britain was well over a million and rising fast and soon would hit three million. Factories were closing, the army was full. What was a seventeen-year-old boy to do.

The first job was in a trade/retail store that sold safety equipment to what remained of the industry in the city. A government scheme paid my wages, and when that scheme ended so did my work. But in all honesty, Serf was rubbish, useless, totally unprepared for work, and unprepared to stand up for myself.

The next few years left me standing in line at the dole (welfare) clutching my UB40 making a claim for a little money to try and live on. Living on an estate where many of the young and their parents were in the same situation as I.

There I stayed. Disintegrating into poverty. With the only silver lining there was just me, myself, I alone in a flat.

Not confident for sales. Not skilled enough for trades. Not smart enough for advance education. Stuck. Right there at the bottom. Along with millions of others.

Moving from temporary job to temporary job. Weighted down by low pay and hours that were unsociable at best. Fluid, every trying taking whatever you could get for as long as possible. A drizzling depression of ever decreasing opportunity and reward.

Window cleaning, office clerking, a couple of factories, all came and went. For nearly a decade I flitted like a fly from excrement to bleeding carcass just hoping one would stick and plans could extend past feeding myself. Two years here, a week there, a month or two, or just a week or three. One boss used to just knock on my door and ask if I was available for a day’s work the following day. Long before the zero hours contract tied you to a company that benefits them but not you.

That is the life of the serf. Nothing changes, nothing gets better, just when you think you may be getting ahead, once more employment terminated.

Permanency came in the retail sector, working in a DIY store. Surrounded by morons, I fitted right in. I could talk about characters, about the imbecilic nature of corporate Britain, but what is the point. It was a drowsy place to work and once I passed the three-year mark, I finally found a permanence.

Lasting a decade – or near to it – I chose to leave. They did not do a lot to keep me. But serfs come and serfs go. There is always someone else standing in the welfare line ready to take my place.

Serf Out.

---

The Serf: Borrowed from Old French meaning servant, a serf was a mediaeval term for the feudal class bound to the land and subject to the landowners will. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary app)

You may not agree with my definition of the modern serf. Yet there is a modern mediaeval world structure on this planet. With the Billionaires owning the planet and bending politics to their will, eroding our rights, and piling services charges and costs. Promises made and speeches delivered but all on the back of the deity of Economy.

That is the reason I decided on the name Scribing Serf as the title of my newsletter on substack.com. You can subscribe here.

---

Thank you for reading Nigel Hare.com. It is always heartening to know someone reached the bottom of the page.

You could check out some other pages: