Him
In our turning we do this, that or the other. I’ve lived in this turning for fifty years,
and here I intend to stay. They’re new here they’ve only been here eighteen years.
I’ve got friends at work and friends at sport and friends I have a drink with. I know
all the people around here, and I’m not invited into anyone else’s home either.
It doesn’t seem right somehow. Your home’s your own.
They’re all related in this street. It’s awful, you can’t talk to anyone in the street about any of the others,
but you find it’s a relative. You have to be very careful.
Her
It’s friendly here. You can’t hardly ever go out without meeting someone you know. Often it’s someone you were at school with.
Since we’ve had the children I’ve got no more friends – outside the family I mean.
I don’t see my best friend much. She’s married too, and she’s always round
her Mum’s like I’m always round mine. Since we’ve had the baby, I’ve got no men friends – outside the family, that is.
Direct quotes from the research commentary in Family and Kinship in East London, by Michael Young and Peter Willmott (Pelican Books, 1957). Submitted by Peter Raynard.
Verbatim Poetry 