Yesterday I cursed gay rights… It was the “last battle” with the arsehole of bureaucracy, the day I was finally due to get some money from the Government. If you’ve read my previous posts, you will already be well aware of the problems that I’ve had with them. From lying to me on the telephone, messing up interview appointments and losing documentation to passing the buck to an absent colleague when they bugger it all up and I eventually get angry. After all that, and with the money situation getting pretty desperate, I was quite anxious about my appointment yesterday. I tried to say positive, I told myself that they couldn’t possibly fuck it up again. There was three things that I could possibly claim for:
1) Job Seekers Allowance (contributed) – as it was explained to me this is based on whatever National Insurance contributions that you have made while you have been working. I took this to mean that the Government will give you money if you’ve actually been working and if you’ve made a contribution to society (ie: the pension scheme).
2) Income Support – this is based on the total income of the household (ie: my partner and I) and the household must be bringing in very little to qualify for this.
3) Housing benefit – same as income support, your household income needs to be very low if you are to get anything in way of payments towards rent etc.
So, I was told months ago by the social security office (ie: the arsehole of bureaucracy) that I would qualify for Job seekers allowance and housing benefit. I’ll be honest; I don’t like applying for these sorts of things. I have my pride and I’m a firm believer that you make your own success and to do that must work very hard. For me to “sign-on the dole” was crushing, it felt like I had been defeated and that all my education, all my hard work to get somewhere in life, was all for nothing. I’ve struggled so much to get work here in Edinburgh. I’ve been in full-time education since I was four years old, I don’t have the experience to land a great ‘cushy’ office job and I haven’t yet finished my Psychology degree, never mind starting my required Masters and finishing a three-year stint as a trainee psychologist.
As an example of just how radically un-important education is becoming in this country, especially compared to professional experience, let me rant a little further. My partner, Victoria, dropped out of school and college many times because she simply didn’t enjoy it, she has six GCSEs (mostly C grades) and she just scraped through in her A-Levels, which I by the way, I basically begged her to sit because I thought it was important. In terms of experience, she has an excellent CV. She didn’t go to University so she has been working full-time since she was eight-teen. She’s worked on the switch-board at a busy hospital; she’s worked for the DVLA, a major American Pharmaceutical company and now for the Inland Revenue. Whatever job she applies for, she gets. She’s well paid, well appreciated and respected. For me, it’s a very different story. I have nine GCSEs (mostly A’s and B’s) and I have the equivalent of four A-Levels; two in ICT and the other two in History and Politics. I worked bloody hard and I went to University where I studied for three years, one in I.T and two in Applied Psychology. Because of that I’ve only ever had part-time jobs, the crappy minimum wage jobs that they give to all students. My education and grades clearly count for nothing, my enthusiasm counts for nothing and while Victoria is happy to just do a job (any well-paid job), I have goals, ambitions and dreams. I’ll say it again, if only for my own benefit; education counts for nothing.
Anyway, back to the matter in hand, the ‘dole office’. I sat down with a man, who according to be letter was called Fiona. It seems, yet again they passed me off to someone else. I ask him if his name is Fiona and I laugh. He informs me that it’s merely just his stage name and I (un-fortunately) instantly warm to him. He then goes on to tell me that I (a) can’t get job seekers allowance because I haven’t paid enough National Insurance contributions – well yeah, don’t be stupid, that’s why I’m here, because I haven’t been working and thus obviously haven’t been paying National Insurance. What a stupid fucking policy to begin with, don’t even get me started on that one. (b) I also can’t get income support because my “partner” is earning and the combined income (which by the way is only around 14K a year) of the household is above the threshold – this is thanks to new legalisation for gay partners who live together. Victoria’s wages wouldn’t even have come into it before this new law was passed in November. So, I curse gay rights and I make a point of saying that with one hand they give.. and one hand they take away. (c) Bottom line, I can’t get housing benefit either because my partner is earning.
Four months of calls, letters and appointments; this is how long it takes the job centre to tell you that they don’t give a stuff for your situation and that you’re not going to get a penny. I couldn’t bring myself to get angry with this man; he was understanding, critised the legalisation himself and was really apologetic. So it seems that the Government believes that two people can survive on one salary and an income of just 14,000 a year. That saddens me ethically and personally – I have debt collectors on my back, loans to pay off, a student over-draft that’s been sitting there since I left University and two credit cards that are completely maxed out. Victoria has been both gracious and giving by supporting me this last year, but she can’t do it anymore.. she simply doesn’t have the money and I simply don’t have the heart to keep taking from her.
Be positive. Be positive Emma. I have a few meetings with agency staff next week to talk about temporary work (ugh – not again), an open evening with a newspaper concerning a possible journalist job and a telephone interview with Scottish Widows Bank about a Customer Sales job. Lets just hope my luck changes, and soon.
