To feel sadness whenever I go on a council estate?

[TheHolyToast]

I was brought up on a huge council estate. It was the happiest time of my life. I used to play out with all the local kids, every night after school and every day during the holidays. The older kids taught me how to ride a bike and i still remember the feeling. The ice cream man used to come around and the siren sent all the kids running to their houses for money. The neighbours thought nothing of feeding kids that were not theirs - you'd simply go back to your friend's house and the mum would be like "so and so's bairn is here, put some extra fish fingers in". We would go and explore the local woods, play in the overgrown gardens of empty houses, everyone was happy and carefree. Everyone was friends.

Then my mum remarried into money and everything changed. All of a sudden it was "common" for kids to play in the street and I was sent to organised clubs instead where I didn't like anyone and they didn't like me. I changed school and the atmosphere was different, everyone compared how much their clothes and holidays cost, nobody just wanted to have fun, it was all about showing off what you had. I started playing truant as I quickly became friendless. There was no more playing in woods, no more "sweet van", god forbid you turn up at someone's house uninvited, you'd be sent straight back home again. I hated it and longed for our old house.

Anyway, 25 years on and I'm a community nurse now. I'm often working on council estates and in particular, my old estate. The sun always seems to be out in these areas, like I remember it.

The other day I went into a house that was identical to my old house. The memories started flooding back. The brown corduroy sofa and cheap mahogany furniture, Jackie from next door and the swinging chair she had attached to the ceiling. I started to feel upset but carried on with my work. Then at 3.30 the kids came bursting in, dropped their bags, announced that they were playing out and the mum shouted "make sure you come home for tea, fish fingers and waffles" then bang. The door shut and I watched the kids running down the garden path with their friends all stood near the gate waiting for them. I ended up quite upset at this point and the poor patient asked if I was ok. I told her her house reminded me of my old house and it was bringing back happy memories. She laughed and said "you lived around here? I thought all you nurses were posh? Surely you can't miss living on here??!" But I really, really do.

Money doesn't bring happiness does it? I feel it's ironic that throughout our lives, the focus seems to be on improving our financial circumstances yet the happiest time of my life was when I was at my poorest.

AIBU to pine for this stuff when it everyone else's eyes, we were just another poor family claiming benefits on a council estate?

I grew up on a naice middle class street. We played out and went to each other's houses for tea.

But unfortunately that's not what most of the estates I've worked with are like now. More like all the children of parents who give a shit are kept in because they're scared they'll get involved with the local gangs.

Hi HolyToast. You childhood reminds me of my own. Early years playing from morning until tea time, riding bikes, playing in fields and having the whole world to explore. Everyone played together, there was no popularity, no comparison, just adventures to be had.

At 9, my parents split up and I moved to a different area. New house, new school, new rules and I did not fit in. Everything about me was wrong and every day was difficult for reasons I never knew existed before. Secondary school was the same but 10x worse. It took me until I moved out and away at 16 to begin to shake off what those years had done to me.

I now see it for what it was and love visiting where I grew up, I always feel grounded going back to my roots.

Like an earlier poster, I had to chuckle, too, at the idea of nurses being 'posh' haha!

You said, yet the happiest time of my life was when I was at my poorest - OP YOU weren't poor, you were a child, you had no financial responsibilities at all, so your 'poorness' doesn't come in to it.

My parents were extremely well off, but I have the same memories as you - playing out with friends, in and out of friends houses, going swimming on Saturdays by bus with friends when we were only 8 and buying crappy crisps at the corner shop afterwards, playing in woods and riding our bikes around, all around the place without much idea of the time etc. I feel SO sad when I see photos from our neighbourhood in the late 70's and early 80's because it looks nothing like it does now and the community spirit seems to have disappeared.

I don't think it has the slightest thing to do with money and everything to do with a happy time in your life and nostalgia. I'd love to have those times back for my children to experience as well, but I just don't think it's the same world any more.

I grew up on a council estate, in a family where we often had too much month left at the end of the money.

I had a friend who was from a well off family and got pretty much everything she wanted. I thought she was lucky. She was generally left to her own devices in her bedroom.

I didn't have the material things, but what I did have was a family where we did things together - it was, and still is, common for the board games to come out. As an adult I now recognise I was the lucky one - she had the possessions but I had the attention from my parents, and that's something money can't buy.

I think that your post is quite emotional and nostalgic, I’m not belittling it but certainly a dose of rose tinted glasses. We often look back at childhood memories like that, this is explained by something called the ‘reminiscence bump’ www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jun/02/high-school-memories-teenagers

Like you I experienced both the council estate and middle class childhood for various reasons. I agree that there was more openness on the council estate but there was also less security and more struggle.

I thought ops post was really sweet. I feel nostalgic for my childhood too. But now this thread has turned into "my life is shitter than your life"

I grew up in a council estate and my mum is still in the same house. I had that childhood too, we played out and roamed all day. There was great pride in your garden and to get a council house you had to be a fairly respectable type with good references and working. It’s different now op, lots more problem families, most of the houses bought and sold on, traffic. The kids don’t play out but there are groups of young teens roaming around getting into trouble with the police and the odd stabbing. I think years ago although we had less money and possessions, the gap between haves and have nots was smaller, no one really had much of anything. I do think people were happier in those close knit communities.

"MadameBronte Wed 31-Jan-18 18:18:37

I didn't grow up poor. Experienced a couple of very grim, very poor years back in my 20s."

This is a thread about growing up on council estates. You posted that you lived on a nice executive estate growing up and are now affluent which is better than being poor, and now you are saying that you were poor for a couple of years in your 20s and not when growing up? Your point on this thread is? To show off that you are affluent perchance? What the hell has that to do with any of the thread? Or is it just an opportunity to show off?

I had a similar upbringing to yours, both on and off council estates. It was brilliant and I wouldn't change my childhood for anything.
However, I agree with others that it was a very different experience for me than it was for my parents. My mum would sell her favourite things to be able to afford to buy me Christmas presents. We'd eat vegetable stew for tea 5 days a week because she couldn't afford anything else and 'paste butties' for lunch. Her life was so much better once my dad got a good job and they moved.
I do get down at how sheltered my children's lives are, how playing in the street is unheard of and how DS wouldn't see any children in the evenings, ever, if he didn't attend Beavers. I see where you are coming from but I am SO appreciative that I can feed my children anything I want and live in a nice house with nice things. That's not to say that some people don't have nice council houses filled with nice things, but you get the idea

Hi OP. Your nostalgic post is moving. I totally relate to it taking you back. My work took me into a house visit to a house identical to my late gran's (though not as homely decorated). It was like stepping back 30 years. I burst into tears the minute I left. With regard to playing out. I was brought up on a small private estate, played out with kids in the street and ate tea next door frequently. We now live on a small private housing estate and my kids do the same (as well as their clubs... lol). I'm happy they can do this, though it's a more urban area and they are not as free to roam as we were.

I had a fabulous childhood on council estates! We would have huge rounders games on the grass fronts where anyone walking past would stop to have a go

I also remember me and my sister drawing chalk pictures on the path outside our house when I was about 7 or 8 and some lovely teenage boys stopping to ask if they could have a go. They coloured with us for a few minutes then went on their way - one of them was arrested for selling drugs a couple of months later but I still maintain they were lovely boys!!!

You had a very happy childhood. Your parents probably scrimped and scraped to give you all they could but it was probably stressful for then making ends meet.

yet the happiest time of my life was when I was at my poorest

Sentimental crap.

You were happier when you were a child because you had nothing to compare your life with.

Nor did you know that you were "poor" - and, by the way, you were not poor if you ate every day, were properly clothed and shod and attended school every day. I grew up among people who managed one out of those three most days, and two out of three when they were lucky.

Stop contemplating your navel, and consider how lucky you are to have the chance to improve other peoples' lives by doing a good job of work.

You may have been at your happiest when living in your old house with Mum. You were though a child, didn't have the responsibilities of an adult and you never know the other adults may have been pining to leave just as your Mum did. Rose coloured glasses!

Hi, I had a childhood like this, then moved to a house in a development of bungalows where we were the only kids, however none of the families who share my memories are still in the original place - that freedom of the 70s and 80s is/ gone in some ways we never fitted - my mum was one of those posh nurses 😅

Not sure why people are not just acknowledging the OP's memories of a happy childhood, and being happy for her that she experienced that.

I think the main food for thought that she offered was that the make or break aspect of a neighbourhood as far as children are concerned is the attitude of the adults toward children, how normal childhood play is tolerated or otherwise, and how secure and welcome or miserable and unwelcome a child can feel thanks to attitudes.

Maybe we should reflect on the impact of adult materialism on children too - the OP's comments on how the children in her new surroundings spent their time boasting about holidays and such made me sad for those children. That sort of preoccupation is a heavy burden for children to bear. The children in her council estate seem to have been insulated from most adult concerns, by contrast.

Is nobody allowed to have happy memories without being made to feel guilty about it.

I desperately wanted my kids to be able to run out of the house after breakfast with a pocketful of biscuits and a penknife and come back at teatime after a day of adventures and derring do. To climb trees, scrump apples, collect bottles and exchange them for a pocketful of change and cheap crisps. To make wee bonfires and stuff the ashes full of scrumped tatties til they were soft enough to eat and to carve out initials on a tree.
Sadly, this was not to be.
Scrumping is stealing. Fires are not allowed. Carrying penknives is frowned upon. carving initials is vandalism. Neighbours would be on mumsnet moaning they have fed c.f. Random neighbourhood kids more than once.....It is different now.
Sad as it may be, things move on. Be glad you had a great childhood and are lucky to have those memories.
Imagine what it is like for those surviving the war years. They had community overshadowed with danger and sadness but stuck together. They lived to see all the changes, good and bad with many youngsters bored and dismissive of Their memories.
My kids think I was born this old. That my life experience is not relevant to theirs. I can show them how to willow surf, make a den and whittle but would they be interested? No.
Give those memories a hug and carry on doing great work with your patients. You have chosen a career that gives. Maybe that is the best homage to lost communities you can give.

I love this post. It's so refreshing to hear people speaking positively about a working class area. Just that really.

Eyre my point was a reaction against the bizarrely sentimentalised concept that it's only the poor, working class who live 'real' lives full of genuine happiness, texture and meaning.

While the middle classes are shallow, stunted folk quietly sobbing into their Chablis every night because Harriet only got a commended in her grade 7 cello exam.

Everyone's life is absolutely 'real' to them.

I agree tuttifrutti
I love my estate and I'm sure my kids will have happy memories of it in years to come.
Yes there is poverty (not everyone is poor btw) but the housing is decent, it's well laid out, children can play safely.
It's a good place to live.

I live in a really posh area & there are lots of things I like about it but also lots of people I just can't relate to. I think you can have the best of both worlds if you stick with like minded people, they are there if you look. Waitrose sells fish fingers and waffles by the way, they're on my list each week.

Nostalgia
In our area kids are in and out of each other's houses - I used to feed groups at a time . However it is quite a middle class area . I think that aspect is down to the community feel or ethos . We have a babysitting circle and so are used to looking out for each other's children as known them all their lives etc . People tend to stay here , bring their kids up to teens and uni , then think about moving on . What I mean is their are family orientated area s and that is not defined by a council estate .

It’s not just council estates. I haven’t never lived on a council estate and as children my neighbours, school friends and I all did the same as OP. Where I live now the children all still play out and if children from my DS school knock for him they all come in for food. All my neighbours say hi, bring each others bins in, watch out for eachother

Fwiw I live in a 'posh' estate and the kids still all play outside and eat fish fingers