Take an eye-opening voyage into the harrowing world of 1960s Local Authority childcare.
A world of pain, suffering and abuse, systematically inflicted upon defenceless children, by coercive predatory adults.
It was a world of unbridled suffering, and relentless pain.
This is the story of one child who survived.
Oi by Snowball was published in November last year. As part of the #RandomThingsTours Blog Tour, I'm delighted to share an extract from this important and very moving book.
Extract from Oi
Fruit Salads, Black Jacks and Grapes (The Late
1960s).
Fruit Salads, Black Jacks and
Grapes. They were the only reason
Snowball loved going to school every morning.
It was also the primary reason that he would secretly curse the advent
of all and any school holidays, as they periodically came around in the annual
calendar, that was both tactically and annoyingly positioned on the kitchen
fridge at home. He had a short journey
home from school. He would be alone, on
foot, and yet watched closely by an innumerable number of community eyes to
ensure his timely, safe and unimpeded progress. Fruit Salads, Black Jacks and Grapes were
the mini feast that invariably would come his way, being in plentiful supply,
and from numerous sources, as he meandered past an array of community lookouts,
and the friendly faces that watched over his childhood frivolities and homeward
bound dalliances on a daily basis.
It was a friendly caring
community, that took a direct interest and responsibility in ensuring that
children were raised in the ‘right way’.
Every pair of adult eyes were perceived as being those of his
parents. Every word spoken, and
instruction given, carrying the same, if not greater weight, as those of mum
and dad, who waited patiently at home for his imminent arrival. And there was always the omnipresent threat,
that a word of cheek, challenge or rebellion in the wrong direction, to the
wrong person, or landing in the wrong set of ears, would result in a sharper
slap around the back of his stocky brown legs, than he would ever have expected
to receive from mum or dad for a similar offence.
Whenever it did occur, it was a
slap that, for good reason, he would inevitably neglect to mention upon arrival
at his own front door, as the shame felt by his foster mum or dad, would
inevitably lead to being frog-marched down the street in shame-faced
humiliation, where an apology would be extracted under the threat of a
spanking, that he knew only too well, was coming anyway, as the desire to
demonstrate that your kids were decent, good kids, and that mum and dad were decent
good parents, outweighed the true gravity of any offence he had unwittingly
caused. It was a disciplined, structured
life in many ways. A life designed to
ensure that he, and his siblings, grew up the right way, became responsible
adults, respected the right people and institutions, and always chose to do the
right thing.
The downside of a thousand eyes
watching your every move, was far outweighed by the, care and consideration
that was routinely displayed throughout the community, and it was something
that could clearly be taken for granted.
Snowball felt safe on these streets.
They were the familiar surroundings that he had grown to love and
appreciate. He knew nearly every face,
every front door, who lived where, and where to go when he needed help. These were the streets he had grown in, and
they were his streets.
At roughly six years old, it
always seemed like a long, albeit, uncomplicated walk home from school. But it
was a welcome walk, that brought him into contact with many of his favourite
local characters, and often saw him line his pockets with sweets and pennies,
as his familiar and popular smiling brown face, gently caressed and softened
the hearts of many of those he frequently passed. There were clear and present advantages of being
the only black child in the town, and he had long ago learned just how to take
maximum advantage of it.
Snowball found school was an
aggressively disciplined environment, that he cared very little for. He had a form teacher, who was clearly unloved
by all her own family during childhood and had taken it upon herself to ensure
that every child under her care, suffered an equally miserable time, as long as
she held the reins. She was a tall,
stern-faced gangly woman, as unpretty as she was ruthless, and she held sway by
a hedonistic mixture of enforced detentions during break times, and ritualised
beatings at the end of each day, that would see the unfortunate culprits of
numerous real or imagined offences, lined up in front of the remainder of the class,
and summarily placed across her knee and beaten to tears.
The author, David Lee Jackson (1964 – Present) was born in
Withington, Manchester in England, into an impoverished black family. Within months of being born, he found himself
on the wrong end of abusive parenting, being hospitalised and close to death.
Eventually recovering and well enough to be treated as an
out-patient, he was placed into foster care, where he was loved and he began to
thrive. Unforeseen circumstances forced
him from this loving home, and he found himself at the brutal and often
criminal mercies of an abusive and violent childcare system.
The 1960s and 1970s British Childcare System cared little
for the children under its control. It
was a brutal, degrading, violent and occasionally deadly environment, into
which children were not only thrown like lambs to the slaughter, but were then
expected to emerge as competent, capable, contributing members of the society
that had so shamelessly failed them at every juncture.
He survived by navigating his course through one violent and
abusive encounter after another. Living
on his wits, and his fists where necessary, and longing for the day he would
finally be freed from this physical and psychological turmoil.
David survived, educated himself, obtaining an Honours
Degree in Psychology and a Master's Degree in International Business. He has been an elected public official,
served on a number of charity boards and forums, and is an active campaigner on
social justice and equality issues.
David has worked in the criminal justice system, working with
drug-addicted offenders, many with shared or similar backgrounds to his own,
and he is a well-travelled and widely respected project management consultant.
In 2018, David (under the name Snowball) published the
widely praised and much talked about book, 'Oi' through the Amazon network, in which he detailed in all its brutally cold
and horrifically ignoble glory, the horrifying
levels of abuse, brutality and criminality that he encountered, while being
raised in the British Childcare System throughout the 1960s and 1970s. The book
itself is a testament to the enduring resilience of all children living through
adversity and both physical and psychological hardship, and an indictment of
the casually brutal and often criminal systems, that inflict relentless
brutality upon children it has been charged with caring for.
Reviews included:
…..Harrowing, Brutal and Truthful! Buckle up and read Snowballs heart wrenching
account of a life that no child should ever experience- prepare to be shocked
to the core, be ready to feel every emotion…..(Brenda Lee)
……one of the most emotional journeys you will ever take with
a child who survives unbelievable childhood adversity. At times it is almost
too painful to witness, it truly is a tribute to the child and the man who
wrote it……Amanda Knowles (MBE)
…..this book is as epic, as it is painful read at times and
extremely sad! It illustrates a time
when Victorian child care was still in evidence even in the 60s, 70s & 80s
and children were definitely to be seen and not heard……...this book will
educate……Anon
David is currently resident in the United Kingdom, where
amongst other professional endeavours, he has embarked on a blossoming career
as a Keynote Speaker and Motivational Presenter. He has an adult son and enjoys the comfort of
a vast extended family, that is spread across the entirety of the United
kingdom.
To quote David in words he would choose himself:
………….Life has been a tough ride at times. It would have been
easy, and acceptable to simply give up, to shrink, to fade away as
expected. However, there is an irrepressible
force inside all of us called, the Human Spirit, and it constantly screams at
me, 'David, you may not be responsible for being down, but you are responsible
for getting back up again'…………………and so I get up.
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