US Healthcare

They say that learning is a lifelong process.  We can learn something new every day.  Well, recently I learned something new about myself.

I am a socialist.

Yes, that’s right, a socialist.  It must be true because someone on the internet told me.  I made a comment on a blog post about the great healthcare debate currently going on in the US, and someone took the trouble to let me know that I think the way I do because I’m a socialist.

A F**king European Socialist to be precise.

The anonymous commenter went on to inform me that he (I assume it was a ‘he’ although I’m prepared to be corrected) had earned everything he had through hard work, and wasn’t prepared to let the government ’steal’ his hard-earned cash off him in the form of taxes so that ‘lazy’ people could have free healthcare ‘handed to them on a plate’.

I had to think about this.  Am I a socialist?  I had never seriously entertained the thought before, always associating socialism with Arthur Scargill (scary trades unionist man from the 80’s), ‘Red’ Ken Livingstone, and that annoying bloke from Liverpool whose name I can’t remember but always wore a lot of gold rings.  These are not people I’d like to invite round for dinner to be honest.

Ken Livingstone – my new best friend? 

(Image via Wikipedia)

I still haven’t really answered the question, but perhaps if I tell you what I think, you can give your opinion as to the extent of my profound socialism in the comments at the bottom of the page!

This is what I think:

I have earned every penny I have ever had, through hard work and constant employment.  I worked hard in school, and at college.  I have two degrees and several professional qualifications.  I have a strong sense of personal responsibility.  I have never been out of work and have never been on welfare.

However, there are some things I have enjoyed the benefits of but did not earn.

My grandparents were not well educated, having left school in their mid-teens with no qualifications, like millions of others.  They lived all of their lives in a tiny two-bedroomed home, where they raised their three children.  My grandfather worked in a quarry, and my grandmother worked in a textile factory until their first child was born.  They worked hard all of their lives, and by retirement were finally able to afford their first holiday abroad.

When it became clear that my mother was a bright student and was able to pass the exam for the grammar school, my grandparents scrimped and saved to afford the uniform – no easy task in those days – and so she received the benefits of a good education that her parents had never had.

Here’s something else I didn’t earn.

When I was four, my mother went to university, studying full time and working during the evenings and weekends to supplement the family income.  She graduated and became a teacher.

And so I had two educated parents who had inherited a good work ethic and a sense of responsibility from their parents.  They raised me to value learning, and understand the importance of hard work.  They supported me as I went through school and then through university and post-graduate study.  They could afford to take me to museums and libraries, and on holidays to new and different places.  They understood about the importance of good nutrition and gave me the best start in life.  They filled the house with books and read to me.  They sent me to ballet, gymnastics and the girl guides.  They paid for music lessons for me, and bought me expensive musical instruments.  I became a Music Teacher.

I didn’t earn any of that.

My family has been steadily climbing a ladder for years, each generation stepping up a few more rungs.  I am at a very comfortable place on that ladder, but I mustn’t fool myself into thinking that I climbed all the way up on my own.  There is much that I have that I didn’t earn.

And so I am not inclined to pull the ladder up behind me as I climb so that others can’t come where I am.  For every wealthy man shouting about how he has ‘earned everthing’ he has, there are thousands and thousands of poor men, like my grandfather, who have also worked hard to earn everything they have, but will not see the benefits of that hard work in their own lifetime.

With that in mind, I find that I am happy to pay taxes if it means that someone who has worked all his life in a poorly-paid job can afford to send his kid to college.  Or so that a baby being born to a young, single mother on welfare can be ensured adequate nutrition and a chance to attend a decent pre-school.  Or so that a teenager who’s dad is in prison and who has never owned a book can be enabled through good schooling to see different possibilities for his own future.  And so that everybody, regardless of age, sex, colour, creed or employment status can receive quality healthcare, free at the point of contact.

And I’m prepared to give to trusted charities as well, so that a young Romanian woman who was abandoned as a child and has grown up in a brutal orphanage can afford to pay the bribe to the doctor for the surgery that she needs.  So that she can receive a decent education, and appropriate counselling and support in the hope that any children she has will not end up in the same place as she did.

I’m not naive.  I’ve been a teacher and youth worker for years, and I know how people are.  I know that taxes are not always administered and spent wisely.  I know that there really are some lazy people who have no intention of ever working again.  I pay taxes in the hope that their kids won’t grow up the same.  I know there are some people who are determined to destroy their bodies through alcohol, drugs and tobacco, and then expect the health service to repair the damage.  I pay taxes so that people can be properly informed about the dangers of these things, and hopefully be able to make a different choice for their own lives before they fall into the trap of addiction.  I think the reasons for poverty are complex and can’t be reduced to labels like ‘deserving’ and ‘undeserving poor’.

And if that makes me a socialist, well, I’ll get my (red) coat.