“A country under foreign domination seeks escape from the present in dreams of a vanished age, and finds consolation in visions of past greatness. This is a foolish and dangerous pastime, in which many of us indulge”


This statement cannot properly be applied to Scotland, as it is not a subject under a ruling country although judging by the constant chip on its shoulder, one might wonder, but, if we replace the issue of foreign domination with today’s pressing problems however, then this quote from Jawaharlal Nehru’s ‘Discovery of India’ could easily be applied to modern Scotland. The north east is no exception, and its people some of the worst offenders in disappearing into the fuzzy warm past, one seemingly of cocoa, corporal punishment and endless long walks, and forgetting issues facing the area today, of which there happen to be not a few.

True, to the majority of the readers of local press in the northeast, these memories and recollections provide a welcome relapse into days gone by, ones of sunshine, youth and possibilities; when Buckfast, knife crime and rampant teenage pregnancy were almost unheard of. Burying ones head in the sand though, no matter how inviting and pleasant that sand is cannot and will not make the problems of today disappear, but still every week in the local Moray, Highland, or Aberdeenshire press, these fond reminiscences of the past manage to make an appearance, whether through columnists making comparisons with the hard working, polite, and dashing young manhood of yesteryear with the wretched, alcohol-ridden juveniles of today, a recount of a gorgeous summer walk taken over the Dava in 1959, or the photographic sections that convey how little Elgin High Street has actually changed over the past seventy years.

Press coverage of what the youth are up to extends to the latest junior football results, and roughly the second year of secondary education, when we’re still well-mannered enough to allow someone to take a photo of our gymnastics display. Aside from the odd volunteer overseas making a report, the old are informed of what the young are doing through police reports and exasperated letters from concerned residents. When was the last time you read something positive about, or written by, anyone between fifteen and twenty?

With the provincial press dominated by the middle aged or elder generations it’s no wonder that young people generally don’t read its publications, which is a shame as especially in the northeast, ways for young folk to communicate and share ideas and opinions outside of the all-conquering Facebook and Myspace are scarce. Obviously not every spotty fifteen year old is a budding Charles Dickens, but the whole age group cannot be written off as a bunch of illiterate ne’er do wells, and with the wide ranges of issues affecting Moray today (uncertainty over the future of the RAF bases, North Sea oil, and the brain drain down to England or the Central Belt) or threatening to in the near future, the community needs to hear the voice of the young. More so than before, as it is ultimately us who will reap the results of any decisions taken now by our elders.

Both age groups need to give ground; the elders need to realise the potential that we have, and make some sort of attempt to encourage us to use it. Fair enough, difficulties present themselves here; it’s not cool at all to be seen taking an interest in anything outside drinkin’ fightin’ an shaggin’, during your secondary school years and how many people under twenty, or thirty for that matter, are seen at any kind of public forum or meeting in the area? For our part, we need to realise that the northeast belongs to us too; once the current generation reaches sixty five and starts spending more and more time out of the country and the drizzle, we’re going have to work something out-it will be up to us to keep the hospitals running and the shops selling, no more six week holidays over the summer or fry-ups cooked for us on a Sunday morning when we’ve drunk too much on a Saturday night.

Keep The Peoples’ Friend and Scottish Country Life for reminiscing of better days, and we’ll keep that top shelf filth we read on booze, gadgets, birds and fashion to ourselves. When it comes to mainstream media however, let’s try and come to some sort of balance.

Tags: uk
Current Location: Ktm, Nepal

Do the young folk of Britain really have what can be called a youth anymore? Unlike the editors of a certain well-respected daily broadsheet, I’m not old enough to remember the Second World War, and my friends and I could never keep up any ‘Famous Five’ activities for very long so I reckon I’m better qualified to write on the issues facing today’s youth. One seems to be our collective indecisiveness and fear (think emo) of doing anything outside of what our contemporaries and elders think is best for us.

On one side we’re constantly surrounded by apologies for things our country did before we, or in some cases our parents were even born, yet on the other we have columnists of well-respected daily broadsheets (yes you, The Daily Telegraph) reminiscing fondly of the dammed good thrashing we gave those Argies, or of Churchill’s eccentricities between the golden years of ’39-’45. No wonder we’re confused, we (or the current generation of politicians) can’t even agree what constitutes Britain-should the Jocks piss off and have a go themselves or not? A complete disparity and a lack of unity exists among our youth-if you’ve a rounded Home Counties accent, then you are almost guaranteed trouble in parts of Glasgow or Cardiff, and vice versa. Even within cities wearing the wrong coloured football shirt is the reason for a beating or stabbing.

This is not an attempt to look into why we have these problems, why as a generation, so far we can only claim celebrity obsession, rising obesity, gangsta rap and the iPod as defining moments of our childhood. I don’t have access to enough books and statistics for that, and quite frankly it would bore everyone in the room. No, I’m aiming to pry into what we can do about it, us, the young folk of Britain today who should really have a lot more balls and be so much more independent that we are.

To start, look at the opportunities we are born with. That little red book you can get for around £50 will get you, visa free to almost every country in Europe and a whole host of interesting places abroad. The rest of the planet is trying to learn the language we speak from birth, our currency is one of the strongest in the world, meaning 6 months of working and saving can easily transfer to one year or more living somewhere exotic. A decent proportion of the rest of the word listens to our music, sings our songs and watches our films, and despite the appalling record we have in places, we are mostly welcomed when we dare to leave our island. Even more so that our American and European counterparts, the world truly is our oyster.

And yet so few of us take advantage of being truly young, free and single and seem content to float along with the crowd, sensibly directed by our elders and betters. Is it a price we are now paying for the sins of the Empire that fewer and fewer of Britain’s youth are venturing abroad? Or is the bubble created for us during our secondary education, free, fixed meals and ‘inclusiveness’ at every step of the way simply too alluring to leave? Much, too much of the youth (and often sections of the youth with wealth and opportunity) are happy to stay in that bubble- and do so by scraping two C’s at Higher and going to university to study some kind of nonentity. The prestige that comes with being a student for four years is obviously far more enticing than getting a trade or a job (you can’t talk Freud and wear All Stars if you’re a brickie, naturally). It’s easy to see how this appeals- three or four years of increasing independence, the chance to drink and shag around as much as you like, and yet still being covered by the safety net of guidance staff, parents and others around you who are doing exactly the same thing. It almost seems too good to be true, and it is, until time is up and the taxman comes knocking.

We need to realise that there is more waiting for us outside of the school-volunteer-uni-job path. I’m not wanting to bore everybody with tales of people who ‘found themselves’, saving orphans in Mozambique, or helped the tribal people of Zimbabwe dig a toilet, but there are so many opportunities given to us the moment we’re born it seems foolhardy, and even rude not to use them. It’s possible to make money in so many different ways both at home and abroad, all that is needed is an idea and some hard work to realise it. A rise in young, talented free-thinking entrepreneurs would help put the ‘Great’ back into Britain (pleasing the affore-mentioned paper) far more than the legions of second-rate sociologists and media studies graduates we seem to be churning out at the minute.

So, you with the spots, hormones and baggy jeans, buy a ticket to somewhere stupid, shear Kangaroos, go Yeti hunting, crew yachts, set up a diamond mine, teach, pick apples, or start something closer to home. Maybe an organic sock factory, a magazine or a find-your-tartan centre for the Yanks. Preferably though, think up your own idea of making your mark.

On second thought, what did happen to the Famous Five?

‘Julian’

Tags: uk
Current Location: Ktm, Nepal