I get the serious arguments for staying in Europe. I fear the risk to our economy of leaving. I think leaving will be bad for jobs, consumers and workers rights.
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I see the pleas of the credible organisations like the IMF and the Treasury (not that I’m a fan of their earlier work, more of a second album fan). I hear all the credible people saying it’s better to stay. Big businesses, small businesses, thin ones, tall ones, they tell me that they want to remain.
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Staying in is more convincing to me because of the incredible people on the Brexit side. It will be a cold day in hell before I see a campaign with George Galloway and Nigel Farage and think, “you know what, these guys are on to something.” It is safe to say, as a (relatively) young working mum, rarely do the rabid politics of Farage, Galloway and their kin speak to me and my family’s hopes and dreams. They are definitely targeting someone else, mainly men and wearers of silly hats.
If I were so inclined I could recite some percentages and convincing numbers to encourage people to remain. But that’s the problem. The clear sensible argument is not enough. The figures are becoming blinding, this many million jobs, that many million pounds. The debate so far is all people in suits with predictions and numbers. The Remainers are right, but where’s the heart, where’s the hopes and dreams.
I get about a bit. I speak to lots of people. I can’t say that your average punter in the pub is proudly declaring themselves European. Most people I meet want to remain but those who want to leave Europe are more certain in their hearts about Britain going it alone. Remainers like me need to up our game, speak with pride about being part of something bigger, something worth fighting for.
So here goes nothing. I want to be European. I think it’s cool, chic you might say. Don’t worry I don’t have delusions of becoming some sort of waspish French woman, smoking golden tipped cigarettes in a riverside café whilst listening to poetry. I don’t have the bone structure or the time. Birmingham is distinctly lacking in rivers to sit by, the canals have less charm. I am very proud to be British. I wept with joy at every British Olympic win. Without fail I eat a full English every Saturday morning and a roast dinner on a Sunday. It would be a lie to say I have George flag tattoo, and yes, I am from the kind of liberal city dwelling clan that loves a bit of multiculturalism and discovering other countries, but cut me and I bleed red white and blue.
It is my patriotism that makes me want to stay in Europe. I want Britain to be the biggest and best it can be. I want to have all the influence. I want us to be part of a gang that makes us stronger, makes our voice louder. I want us to eat our dinner at the grown up table. I want to be at the party where the decisions are made, not the person crying in the kitchen because the popular gang didn’t let us play. I don’t think we wouldn’t cope if we left Europe, but I don’t want to just cope. Hoping that Europe give us the deal we want for our jobs and our trade isn’t enough, I want to be the decision maker.
Never in all my working or personal life has going something alone, without friends been a choice I would make. I believe in the power of a group to achieve things, even when some of that group does my head in. Doing things alone is always slower, less productive, and more doomed to fail. The world is a pretty scary place at the moment, now is the time to join hands and work together. Britain matters to our European family they need us and that is ok, because we need them too.
My name is Jess and I am a proud British European.
