Because I grew up in a filthy council house (as in animal excrement on the piece of carpet in the living room and underneath the settee);
My mother had not worked since the age of 16 when she had her first child.
Had five children by two different men (one married).
One child had convictions for TWOC, theft and would take driving tests for others to top up his cash in hand jobs. The other 'good' one broke our next door neighbour's foot by riding a moped along the pavement after rebuilding it in the front garden - as the back garden was full of old furniture, fishtanks, metal things and various other detritus, including broken glass.
She hated education and told me I did because I didn't like being bullied for being poor/unsocialised/smart. I needed to be like my brothers and be good at sport.
That council house was given because my older sister nearly died of asthma. Of course, we don't mention that it would have been because of her allergies to house dust and animals (and my mother's allergy to housework).
There were direct links to organised crime through her first husband.
One brother was on a Child Protection plan until she managed to throw them off the scent.
Sister had her first child at 17 and ran for the hills with the baby at 18. One brother fathered a child at 15.
I fought to do A Levels with the help of my high school teachers because I didn't want to 'get a job at British Gas and buy the house off the council'. Completed those - just about, it wasn't as if I was going regularly with no money for the bus or clothes, pens, etc - whilst living in my first boyfriend's house as she refused to feed me in retaliation (and I had grown sick of being punched in the head, tbh). Crap results, fairly inevitably, and I then had my eldest at 19 because I needed somewhere to live and there were still council flats allocated to single Mums and I didn't have any money to apply to university.
I then went on to start adult life as a single teenage mum on benefits.
However, I was bored and wasn't a fan of poorly paid jobs that required money for travelling to work, fancy clothes, and cultural capital I just didn't have. So I read (when I didn't have a boyfriend who hated books so much that he literally burned them) and watched interesting programmes (when there wasn't a boyfriend threatening to put the TV through if I insisted on watching stuff that wasn't 'normal' like EastEnders or Big Brother).
I started studying with the Open University whilst I was going insane with boredom once the youngest child was in school Nursery (the kids were on FSM, naturally) and I was on Disability benefits due to Psoriatic Arthritis. I got random jobs to pay the bills, frequently bouncing from job to job and frantically learning stuff as I went along. I'd go from having a job with a large bonus because I'd worked out the system to game my numbers to scrubbing shit off the toilets in the Executive Suite in the local council offices, a job got for me by the next boyfriend's Mum, then into Insurance, then Engineering firms, then the NHS, then education. With periods of Income Support in between.
I've recognised kids in schools I've worked in because I've got stories I can't share with them about their parents running from a fully armed Police raid. I can still spot a plain clothes unit on surveillance from 500 yards and can describe the visible signs of substance abuse from intimate knowledge of what people look like and behave on it.
I also know what it feels like to be bounced off every wall in my old flat, have my old dog (a bull breed and was absolutely lovely) scare off intruders with a low growl at my side, been assaulted on my doorstep for shagging somebody's brother and know that people who go progressively louder and more 'local accent' when angry are scared shitless when you go quieter and nearer RP because that's the accent that the bad guys have in movies. Especially when you time it so that they have that thought and only then do you move towards them. If I meet somebody at work who has a similar background to me, we can go from being all nice and proper to discussing what it feels like to be stabbed or put through a glass window at school, to the horror of anybody who has had a more pleasant early life.
I am absolutely over the moon that both my kids have degrees and one is just starting on a PhD whilst also in her first job as a Lecturer. Not bad, considering the way she would not engage in school at all and left with fewer qualifications that I did 25 years previously. Slightly irked that it won't be with my surname, but I wasn't really that attached to it, what with it not being my father's name in the first place.
Just because I benefitted from non judgemental teachers to the tune of A grades at GCSE, BCC at A level and a nice printout from the OU - oh, a hefty dose of sheer bloody mindedness in always getting back up when some fucker punches me down (literally as well as figuratively) - none of that changes that I was and until the last few years as I've been promoted, very much part of the Underclass.
Nice to know that I do a fair to middling pass at being middleclass, though. It was always the dream to not be assumed to be scum before I codeswitch back to my origins.