She's got no class

My dad worked for a construction firm when I was younger (actually, it was very recently he moved into an office environment). We didn't have a car because he had use of a transit van, and my parents were always quite careful with their money. The van reeked of diesel and oil, and in the back was a metal trunk full of rags. These rags were what became of unsaleable second-hand clothes, and dad would clean his hands with them, wipe minor spills, and stem leaks. The fabrics were often colourful, lurid, psychedelic, some would be old children's clothes or t-shirt remnants with some long forgotten fund-raising logo like "Telethon '78".

Sometimes I'd go to work on a Saturday with dad, wellies on, and end up sitting in a dumper truck, JCB or Caterpillar and pretend to drive it. One of his colleagues would inevitably give me 50p or £1 which would seem like a fortune considering you could still get 2 sweets for a penny and a bag of crisps for 5p.
Dad would always be nursing a wound, usually to one of his fingers, these could not be described as 'cuts' because the gash would be so deep I'd imagine I could see right inside to the bone and the flesh would look like a cross section of a blood orange.

Mum always had at least one job (sometimes three) but seemed to always be home too, cooking, cleaning, putting the washing on the line. Dinner would be classics; Shepherd's pie, liver and onions, casseroles, sausage dinner...
I always ate all my dinner, (nothing changes) and though some of the meals I now prepare are more exotic there's  a similarity to the routine.
My brother was always up at the crack of dawn, guzzling the leftover milk from a giant bowl of cereal and shouting to ensure everyone was awake. He had too much energy and was always trying to invent a machine by taking apart household appliances.

A typical working-class family, my parents liked to go out for a drink, and holidays would be Butlin's when I was younger; Spain, Menorca, Portugal and Bulgaria later on. Typical working-class, only on the surface though, any assumption that they enjoyed watching soaps, playing darts, and were uncultured would be wrong. They read a lot, listened to Radio 4, enjoyed plays, hated mainstream TV, were broad-minded about political and social issues and were very 'green' before it was fashionable.

I enjoyed watching Alan Bennett and Mike Leigh plays with them, and from this I think I 'got' the class divide thing quite early on. In Leigh's Nuts In May I empathised with the character Ray, caught in the middle of an embarrassing clash of values.
 At my primary school, during harvest, we used to take parcels with food in to be delivered to local elderly people a. My mother wasn't a fan of this scheme, she worked as a home help and knew the elderly locals had plenty of food and a loving family looking after them. Not wanting to give food away just to rot/go out of date, she gave my brother and I a bottle of Fairy Liquid each with a dishcloth secured to them with a rubber band. A friend laughed as she proudly showed off her box brimming with tins of 'Pek' ham, Oxtail soup, custard powder and fruit salad. There was another family who were of the same opinion as mine, they were forward-thinking Guardian readers,  stood out like a sore thumb amidst the car-factory workers who invariably described them as 'weird'. I was delighted to see their children arrive with a small bunch of flowers each which they'd picked from the garden that morning and tied with some wool. Someone else like us.

Dad excelled at school, but chose to mess around and left early; mum is Dyslexic but went through school being told she was thick.  Both have ended up doing soul-destroying jobs, physically exhausting and uninspiring. My brother and I are following their lead, school didn't do anything for us.
So, the cycle seems to be continuing, my eldest isn't finding school very interesting and I can't summon up any enthusiasm to return to education.

Destined to struggle, make very slow progress and have to pretend to be interested in popular trends? I could escape - if I wanted  to prove something to myself (or anyone else) I would. My determination and willpower are second to none when I've got a bee in my bonnet.  I used to feel inferior to people who'd been to university, travelled, spoke with confidence about politics and so forth. I used to clam up in conversations with people I deemed 'better' than me - felt I had nothing to offer.

Now, I realise that it's not class which stopped me from progressing in the past, and what stops me now. I just think we're a family who don't care to be defined or fit in. We have our own language based on amusing lines  overheard through the years, it takes a while to learn, but people worth having in my life are fully versed in it. Rules have never been followed very closely, social norms always questioned. In high school I tried to stand out instead of blend in. Now, I'm finally realising nobody has the expectations of you that you think they do, I don't need to try so hard to adapt. Being 'me' isn't ever going to happen -  I don't know who on earth I am.

I can't believe it's taken me this long to realise. I've spent hours wondering what the point of this post is, and wondering whehter or not to post it.

If anyone has any ideas, answers on a postcard please....