Lodger Update

Further discussion with my lodger revealed nihilistic depression as the root of his London-bound wish. He is no longer interested in following the route suggested by the social workers mainly because he is convinced that returning to his country with certificates and quaifications won't have a positive impact on his prospects when he is returned 'home'. He talks of how WHO you know will get you a job much more easily than through waving pieces of paper about. I am very inclined to believe him. Instead, he wants to earn as much money as possible so that he will have something on which he will be able to rely in his first months after repatriation. He wants to amass as much cash as possible before he is forced to leave. There are inherent problems with his plan because of his status and, although he has been told he can get highly paid labouring work in London: talk is cheap and doesn't always become action; and living in London is more expensive than living in Newcastle. 

Having said all the above, I absolutely understand his actions. I really don't know what I would do in his situation. One thing we do need to find out is whether he will HAVE to return to his home country. It MIGHT be possible for him to go somewhere else... I realise that's unlikely. If it is impossible, he will try to set up something in a country to which he could travel from his home country. The worst part of it is that of the the lads I've looked after, he has far and away the most to offer and would probably make the best of the opportunities Britain offers. The other lads, led by my godson, grew up in Birtish privilege, have clear understandings of their "entitlements" and no concept at all of responsibility.

I was told to expect an inspection from the fostering people this week, but it has transpired that my informant got his dates wrong. I am weaning myself away from job search activities- such is my level of institutionalisation I find it hard not to be gainfully employed in trying to become gainfully employed! I read recently that 55-65 year olds are finding it hardest to find jobs, there is small comfort in that: perhaps it ISN'T about my "reputation", or ethnicity, or sexuality or a combination of those, but it is about being sixty. Hmmm... I hope that ISN'T the reason, actually:

As the government has promoted apprenticeships and new training, it has created a log jam of jobs. Experienced elders like me have found that they're no longer qualified to do the work they've been doing for decades. We are required to pay extortionate rates for courses in the bleeding obvious, to be given a piece of paper proving that you can do what you have been doing most of your life. But problems don't stop there as preference is given to the bright young things who end up leading teams of experienced people who are often outraged at having to report to someone the age of their kids. There are definitely people who have been in jobs for decades who need to be replaced with new blood, but in my experience, the public sector is rife with administrators and managers who have effectively landed jobs for life as long as they keep their noses clean and hands out of the till, the problem is that public sector workers tend to be hard to 'lose'.

It seems we are destined to lose the experience of older people or to deny opportunities to younger ones. Why is it not possible to benefit from both?

I see people coming to Britain seeking asylum as a net benefit. I see swaythes of land in Northumberland for example, where there are less than 2 people per square kilometre, land which could be brought into agricultural use at a time when Britain neeeds to be more self-sufficient. Many of the people coming to Britain have farming backgrounds, it should not be too difficult to marry the two resources together.

I fear for Britain. I see murder and selfishness and prejudice and hatred becoming normalised. I see compassion for people with nothing dwindle. I see name-calling and bullying become popular passtimes. I want to stay here, but please let me get The People Centre (long) before I finally shuffle off.