Six Days On...
To date, since seeing the first results coming in last Thursday and slowly realising as the night went on what was about to happen, the world feels like it's been turned on its axis for those of us who wished to stay a part of the EU. The magnitude of this decision and the ensuing chaos feel almost impossible to absorb: our prime minister has resigned; there has been a vote of no confidence in the opposing party's leadership and many of his shadow cabinet have resigned; Scotland is likely to have a second referendum; Ireland's troubles have been placed in danger of reigniting; our economic stability has been put in jeopardy and many people's EU-facing jobs are already at risk; our country's choices are also likely to affect the stability of both the EU and many other countries' economies; many people who live and work here feel unwelcome and scared, with hate crimes in Britain up 57% from the previous week. It's perhaps this last thing that is most upsetting of all: the vile racism and xenophobia that this vote seems to have legitimised leaves many of us feeling that we are living in a country that we no longer recognise or want to be part of.
This feels like a public school boys' game gone horribly wrong: a referendum offered only to win an election and then fought to raise profiles, with neither Westminster side ever believing that 52% of the voting British public would call their bluff, and it has implications that will last for years to come. I feel unexpectedly grief-stricken, as well as furious, about what has happened.
I also feel guilt that I did nothing - other than discuss the referendum with like-minded people - in the run up to this vote. To have remained quiet and apparently neutral now makes me feel somehow complicit in what has happened. My friends and acquaintances all - bar one, as far as I'm aware - were planning to vote Remain and the few posts I saw from others who I follow on social media were in favour of Remain too, so in the bubble in which I can now see that I exist, posting Vote Remain literature felt like it would have been preaching to the converted. Even my grandmother - only a few years off being 90 - on being handed her postal vote by my mother apparently turned to her and just said rhetorically and emphatically: we want to stay, don't we?
Negativity makes me feel uncomfortable and I find myself searching for some piece of hope or positivity in relation to all of this with which to tie up this post, but there feels so much uncertainty that I can't think of what to say at this point - it still just feels too bleak. So I will simply say that I am sending love out into the world irrespective of how anyone voted and that regular sewing bulletins will be resumed shortly,