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Know Your Place
In 21st century Britain, what does it mean to be working class? This book asks 24 working class writers to examine the issue as it relates to them.
Examining representation, literature, sexuality, gender, art, employment, poverty, childhood, culture and politics, this book is a broad and first-hand account of what it means to be drawn from the bottom of Britain's archaic, but persistent, class structure.
Examining representation, literature, sexuality, gender, art, employment, poverty, childhood, culture and politics, this book is a broad and first-hand account of what it means to be drawn from the bottom of Britain's archaic, but persistent, class structure.
310 pages, Hardcover
First published September 15, 2017
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 54 reviews
November 25, 2019
I really don't know what to think about this book. In trying to get over 'the Road to Wigan Pier' image of the working class, it puts together several essays by articulate intellectuals with 'working class' roots who are now making their livings as writers or in education or media, and who still consider themselves as working class. I guess it wants to change people's view about what it means to be working class, and there is a sense in which that is admirable, but it might have been more forceful had it looked at the people who have not 'escaped' through education, but the vast number of ordinary working people who remain in the blue collar belt but in no way resemble the characters Orwell describes in 'The Road to Wigan Pier'. I have working class roots and was a first generation university goer, and my experience of the working people i grew up with was one of people with wit, and art, and practical wisdom, and an intelligence that transcended the education that never captured it. Maybe that is one project Nathan Connolly might look to undertake in the future.
July 28, 2018
Class is not a UK invention and is not unique to the UK, but there are some unique characteristics about the UK class system. Although it will have some universal appeal, in many ways this is a very British book exploring the experiences of being modern, British working class. I thought this was very good. The writing is a little variable, but generally of a high standard and in many cases really excellent.
The essays are enlightening, and often uncomfortable reading for someone in a more privileged situation. This a good thing as it knocks a level of smugness out of and a degree of self-awareness into the reader - and I believe many middle class readers would benefit from reading this book.
It's interesting for describing the working class experience - mostly in terms of what it is not - it is not privilege, it is definitely not middle class. The picture that comes across mainly is of disadvantage. One or two of the writers also describe some of the positives, such as sense of community, often missing in middle class groups. But the positives are limited. Only one writer explores the nature of the rural working class.
It's no criticism of the book, but I would have been interested in a little more exploration of what it means to be working class. Not just in the sense of the experience of being working class, but what makes one person working class and another not. There are some obvious features, but it is not just about money and privilege as a couple of the writers make clear they now have middle class lifestyles, and yet still consider themselves working class. The last essay, by the book's editor, touches on this, but it is not fully explored.
The essays are enlightening, and often uncomfortable reading for someone in a more privileged situation. This a good thing as it knocks a level of smugness out of and a degree of self-awareness into the reader - and I believe many middle class readers would benefit from reading this book.
It's interesting for describing the working class experience - mostly in terms of what it is not - it is not privilege, it is definitely not middle class. The picture that comes across mainly is of disadvantage. One or two of the writers also describe some of the positives, such as sense of community, often missing in middle class groups. But the positives are limited. Only one writer explores the nature of the rural working class.
It's no criticism of the book, but I would have been interested in a little more exploration of what it means to be working class. Not just in the sense of the experience of being working class, but what makes one person working class and another not. There are some obvious features, but it is not just about money and privilege as a couple of the writers make clear they now have middle class lifestyles, and yet still consider themselves working class. The last essay, by the book's editor, touches on this, but it is not fully explored.
February 27, 2018
I read this collection as an outsider—as an Italian, and as someone who's so far enjoyed a life of relative privilege. I wanted to read Know Your Place because I want to learn more about the country I've lived in for almost a decade, and in which I plan to live for the foreseeable future, and I particularly want to know more about the stories that are usually excluded from the official narrative. And, speaking of official narratives, ever since the Brexit referendum, voices from all sides have tried to persuade me that, as an EU migrant, the British working class should be my natural enemy, and it made sense to try to counter these voices by reading a book written specifically by working class authors. And, now that I've finished it, I this book has given me an empathy upgrade, and a few more layers of resistance towards media or political narratives that demonise the working class.
November 12, 2017
Love this. Absolutely ticks all my boxes for 'wide range of perspectives from voices that don't get heard enough'. Fascinating collection.
December 23, 2018
I've been thinking about what this review will say for months, because I've spent months with this book, slowly making my way through the essays when I need a friend. This book has been a support for me through a difficult transition, through my master's degree and through entering the 'real world', and now as I work two part-time jobs. I've been used to reading books, especially while I was a literature student, that are for the middle class, by the middle class. I have found academia alienating, snobbish, and exclusionary. When I find any book that can provide me with working class heroes, or any content that speaks to my experiences at all, I hold them close to my heart and defend them fiercely. This immediately became one of those books.
This is essential reading for any Briton who considers themselves working class or low income. The contributors are massively diverse, not just in race and gender, but the book also represents many generations, which I've found enormously helpful. It is a wide compilation of experiences.
I can't thank Nathan Connolly, Dead Ink, and all the contributors enough for this book. I have had a lonely, painful time working through identity crisis after identity crisis, and only this book has soothed me. I am not alone and having written proof of that is an unspeakable comfort.
This is essential reading for any Briton who considers themselves working class or low income. The contributors are massively diverse, not just in race and gender, but the book also represents many generations, which I've found enormously helpful. It is a wide compilation of experiences.
I can't thank Nathan Connolly, Dead Ink, and all the contributors enough for this book. I have had a lonely, painful time working through identity crisis after identity crisis, and only this book has soothed me. I am not alone and having written proof of that is an unspeakable comfort.
September 22, 2020
Know Your Place, edited by Nathan Connolly, is an anthology of essays by working class writers on what it means to be working class. The anthology demonstrates the breadth of the working class experience and the multiplicity of working class identities engendered by the intersectionality of our protected characteristics. This is really important as it evidences that ‘the working class’ is not a homogenous group, but includes a rich and diverse range of experiences and people. It also emphasises the complexity and intricacy of how our different identities are layered and combined, and the impact that this has on our status and how we are perceived by the world. In particular, I found it very interesting to hear how writers described their class identity in the present. Several of them wrote about feeling unsure as to whether they could legitimately describe themselves as working class any more. For example, because they lived in homes they owned, with multiple bedrooms, or because their postcode had changed, or their job didn’t involve physical labour. It made me think about the criteria that someone has to meet to be considered working class, but also how this can be complicated by our other identifiers. I am from the north of England, so I am more likely to be read as working class because our society unconsciously conflates those two characteristics. However, I went to university and this has the potential to identify me as middle class. In reality, it has no impact on my class status or my personal value. I am by far not the cleverest person in my family, or the most well read, although I am the only one who has been to university. So what is it that makes me less legitimately working class than my predecessors? I would argue that by going to university, I have converted my intelligence into something that is quantifiable for the job market and thus it is given higher value in our capitalist and money driven society.
Of all of the protected characteristics we might identify with, class is possibly the only one that we can move in and out of in terms of how we present, although we may experience our class identity as a permanent state of being. Therefore, there can be a conflict between how we feel about ourselves and our class identity, and how it is perceived by others. For some of the writers in this anthology, it seemed as though they experienced discordance between their feeling of being innately working class on the one hand, and their anxiety over mislabelling themselves as their lives and circumstances have changed. In particular, some of the writers divulged apprehension over labelling themselves as working class as they didn’t want to undermine the real economic hardships of many working class people by ignoring or understating their current privilege. I feel very similarly – I am very aware that in economic terms I am much more privileged than my grandparents. I also don’t have a very strong accent and can ‘pass’ as middle class quite easily. This in itself is a problematic experience because depending on our definition, I probably am middle class, rather than passing. In that case, what is happening when someone perceives me to be working class? Am I guilty of cultural appropriation? Probably only if it happens to benefit me, and if it doesn’t? I’m not sure that we have a word for that?
I also thought that the title was really clever – the irony of twisting a phrase that has been used historically to subjugate working class people into actually a very helpful piece of advice that can be weaponised to fight against that repression. Knowledge is power. Without books like these, young people can become brainwashed by the stereotypes of themselves promulgated in the media. This book is about exposing the techniques that have been used to disseminate and enforce an ideology of what working class looks like. We can only dispute that with facts and figures, recorded in a book like this one. Furthermore, our cultures and traditions are passed on through stories and the more stories and voices we have, the less alone we feel and the more strength there is in resistance. This book demonstrates that many and varied iterations of the working class experience, and I think encourages us to see that distinguishing between ourselves is so unhelpful and self-destructive. Actually, when we share our stories and put our voices together (which is not the same as homogenising, but is finding strength in both our difference and our similarities), we are strong.
The book was full of really well written essays, and gave voice to so many different identities and experiences. This meant that there were no really thorough explorations of any critical points. However, to have a book published, the sole purpose of which is to exalt first person experiences of being working class is incredible and valuable. Also, by covering such a breadth of ideas in moderate detail, the book encourages the reader to do a lot of thinking and ruminating themselves. I thought this was a really interesting read and I would definitely recommend it.
Of all of the protected characteristics we might identify with, class is possibly the only one that we can move in and out of in terms of how we present, although we may experience our class identity as a permanent state of being. Therefore, there can be a conflict between how we feel about ourselves and our class identity, and how it is perceived by others. For some of the writers in this anthology, it seemed as though they experienced discordance between their feeling of being innately working class on the one hand, and their anxiety over mislabelling themselves as their lives and circumstances have changed. In particular, some of the writers divulged apprehension over labelling themselves as working class as they didn’t want to undermine the real economic hardships of many working class people by ignoring or understating their current privilege. I feel very similarly – I am very aware that in economic terms I am much more privileged than my grandparents. I also don’t have a very strong accent and can ‘pass’ as middle class quite easily. This in itself is a problematic experience because depending on our definition, I probably am middle class, rather than passing. In that case, what is happening when someone perceives me to be working class? Am I guilty of cultural appropriation? Probably only if it happens to benefit me, and if it doesn’t? I’m not sure that we have a word for that?
I also thought that the title was really clever – the irony of twisting a phrase that has been used historically to subjugate working class people into actually a very helpful piece of advice that can be weaponised to fight against that repression. Knowledge is power. Without books like these, young people can become brainwashed by the stereotypes of themselves promulgated in the media. This book is about exposing the techniques that have been used to disseminate and enforce an ideology of what working class looks like. We can only dispute that with facts and figures, recorded in a book like this one. Furthermore, our cultures and traditions are passed on through stories and the more stories and voices we have, the less alone we feel and the more strength there is in resistance. This book demonstrates that many and varied iterations of the working class experience, and I think encourages us to see that distinguishing between ourselves is so unhelpful and self-destructive. Actually, when we share our stories and put our voices together (which is not the same as homogenising, but is finding strength in both our difference and our similarities), we are strong.
The book was full of really well written essays, and gave voice to so many different identities and experiences. This meant that there were no really thorough explorations of any critical points. However, to have a book published, the sole purpose of which is to exalt first person experiences of being working class is incredible and valuable. Also, by covering such a breadth of ideas in moderate detail, the book encourages the reader to do a lot of thinking and ruminating themselves. I thought this was a really interesting read and I would definitely recommend it.
November 17, 2017
We should all read this book. It jolts one out of any cosy complacency .As one writer says -it is hard to better yourself when cleaners are paid the basic wage and lokked down on as if they hardly existed.
The collection of essays here go some way , I imagine, to help non "working class " people understand !
My one beef with the essays in the book is that maybe because so many these people are in writing / the media and are London based they do not realise that other socio-economic groups had , and have, gripes as well about the ease with which they can achieve their goals.
Not everyone else had ,or has, enough money when growing up or has networks to land a great job.
Not everyone else felt entirely at ease at their Uni either; there are more groups than a working class and a moneyed upper class in this country !
Lots of people DO land a job without the help of networks-eg nurses, teachers,retail managers, local authority employees, civil servants.
This is not to deny the enormous hardship of trying to study in a bedroom shared with siblings, of having no spare cash for when the washing machine breaks down, and no money for trips or meals out, or new shoes. Nor does anything excuse the shocking remarks of some teachers who are reported here to have been less than helpful when their pupils had a dream for the future. Nor the snobbism of some about the plays , the art ,the "cultural" capital certain people feel they have.
Having grown up in a small village, I knew a wide variety of people and saw something of their lives ; from farm laborers to the " lord of the manor", but probably nowadays with more people being city dwellers and ghettoisation of classes, and of races too, into largely separate housing areas that is not so common.
But how wonderful to hear the praise for the neighbourly community spirit that exists in some social housing areas, but is sadly lacking in many of our smart ,suburban, owner occupied housing elsewhere.
The collection of essays here go some way , I imagine, to help non "working class " people understand !
My one beef with the essays in the book is that maybe because so many these people are in writing / the media and are London based they do not realise that other socio-economic groups had , and have, gripes as well about the ease with which they can achieve their goals.
Not everyone else had ,or has, enough money when growing up or has networks to land a great job.
Not everyone else felt entirely at ease at their Uni either; there are more groups than a working class and a moneyed upper class in this country !
Lots of people DO land a job without the help of networks-eg nurses, teachers,retail managers, local authority employees, civil servants.
This is not to deny the enormous hardship of trying to study in a bedroom shared with siblings, of having no spare cash for when the washing machine breaks down, and no money for trips or meals out, or new shoes. Nor does anything excuse the shocking remarks of some teachers who are reported here to have been less than helpful when their pupils had a dream for the future. Nor the snobbism of some about the plays , the art ,the "cultural" capital certain people feel they have.
Having grown up in a small village, I knew a wide variety of people and saw something of their lives ; from farm laborers to the " lord of the manor", but probably nowadays with more people being city dwellers and ghettoisation of classes, and of races too, into largely separate housing areas that is not so common.
But how wonderful to hear the praise for the neighbourly community spirit that exists in some social housing areas, but is sadly lacking in many of our smart ,suburban, owner occupied housing elsewhere.
February 6, 2018
Know Your Place is a collection of twenty-three essays written by working class writers about their experiences of being working class in Britain today. The writers’ families identify with a variety of colours and cultures, which add to the way they are perceived by themselves and others. Most of the writers appear to have attained a university education, and to have moved away from the environment in which they were raised. The essays explore the effort required to push against perceptions, the cost of trying to realise their potential in spaces dominated by those whose background is one of greater privilege.
The collection opens with The First Galleries I Knew Were Black Homes, in which Abondance Matanda talks of art, accessibility, and who decides what is valued. It argues that the supposed elite of the art world should not assume that the unrepresented are culturally deprived.
“Being a black working class woman, I exist on the peripheries, in the shadows of British society. It’s scarily likely that you might not see me or my experiences portrayed at all, let alone wholesomely in our visual culture or art history.”
The author’s peers do, however, know about art and heritage. The problem, as in many of the issues raised in the following essays, is breaking through the barriers erected by traditional gatekeepers who do not always see a need to facilitate change.
In The Pleasure Button: Low Income Food Inequality, Laura Waddell discusses the joy experienced when consuming fatty, salty food, which is accessible where healthier entertainments are beyond limited budgets. Those who can afford to drive to a large supermarket and stock up on fresh fruit and vegetables will often shake their heads at the dietary choices of those living in poverty, ignoring the causes. This reaction, to blame the poor for their situation, is a recurring theme.
Several of the authors discuss the positives of growing up working class, which includes the comfort of belonging and a feeling of community. In The Death of a Pub, Dominic Grace recalls a drinking establishment he frequented in south Leeds, where generations of the same families would get together after a hard days graft. It may have been a rough place but these were blokes enjoying friendly banter over a well earned pint at the end of a long day. Unfortunately, to me, it was reminiscent of the attitude of the wealthy to their London Clubs which ban women as this would change member’s freedom to talk and act as they choose. The working man’s pub appeared intimidating to those who did not belong to that socioeconomic group.
Many of the essay authors’ parents worked hard to enable their offspring to progress through education. Those who made it to better schools write of the challenges this brings. Just as work colleagues may not appreciate the difficulties presented by a lack of parental contacts or financial backup, so classmates did not understand why house size and quantity of possessions could cause embarrassment. There are also casual preconceptions, such as the assumption that a package holiday to Benidorm is somehow less admirable than a bespoke journey through a remote corner of Asia.
There are discussions on benefits, sexuality, visibility and the culture of blame. There is a correlation between poverty and mental health as well as the obvious physical effects of poor nutrition. In Where There’s Shit, There’s Gold, Ben Gwalchmai looks at rural poverty and the jobs he took as a child living in Wales. The Housework Issue (The Other One) asks why certain jobs are looked down upon, especially those that provide benefit to many.
“We, working class women, and all of us, have been sold a lie. The fabrication that if we work hard, do the right thing – whatever that means – that we’ll be ok and get the good stuff. We’ll get the status, and a good sense of pride, and if we’re not ok we deserve our poverty; it’s our own fault because we’re not working hard enough.
The inconvenient truth is that a badly paid and low status job with no prospects like cleaning keeps you poor. Hard work does not lift people out of poverty or issue status, not if you scrub toilets for a living anyway.”
In Reclaiming the Vulgar, Kath McKay asks who defines good taste, and who cares. Value judgements have been attached to many things, including how people furnish their homes, dress and speak. This results in sizeable portions of the population being silenced, their voices somehow deemed unworthy. In The Wrong Frequency, Kate Fox explores the judgements made about those who speak with regional accents. Class differences are reinforced by perceived regional stereotypes.
Many of the essays deal with belonging and the disconnects successful social mobility can introduce. In What Colour is a Chameleon, Rym Kechacha discusses the necessity of talking and acting differently in order to gain acceptance.
“I have heard too many people frown when they hear me speak, too many people assume I haven’t read that book they’re talking about […] I know that no one is fooled about my origins, and I don’t even know if I want them to be.”
The final essay, You’re Not Working Class, is by the editor of the collection, Nathan Connelly. In it he asks what the term even means. There are those who try to delegitimise others who identify as working class. They are thereby complicit in attempting to silence someone who does not conform to their expectations.
To be better understood it is necessary to be heard and these essays provide a platform from which marginalised writers may speak for themselves. From the quality of the arguments presented it is clear that they are more than capable of elucidating cogent and balanced opinions. The stories they tell provide a lesson a wider audience would undoubtedly benefit from learning. This is a recommended read.
The collection opens with The First Galleries I Knew Were Black Homes, in which Abondance Matanda talks of art, accessibility, and who decides what is valued. It argues that the supposed elite of the art world should not assume that the unrepresented are culturally deprived.
“Being a black working class woman, I exist on the peripheries, in the shadows of British society. It’s scarily likely that you might not see me or my experiences portrayed at all, let alone wholesomely in our visual culture or art history.”
The author’s peers do, however, know about art and heritage. The problem, as in many of the issues raised in the following essays, is breaking through the barriers erected by traditional gatekeepers who do not always see a need to facilitate change.
In The Pleasure Button: Low Income Food Inequality, Laura Waddell discusses the joy experienced when consuming fatty, salty food, which is accessible where healthier entertainments are beyond limited budgets. Those who can afford to drive to a large supermarket and stock up on fresh fruit and vegetables will often shake their heads at the dietary choices of those living in poverty, ignoring the causes. This reaction, to blame the poor for their situation, is a recurring theme.
Several of the authors discuss the positives of growing up working class, which includes the comfort of belonging and a feeling of community. In The Death of a Pub, Dominic Grace recalls a drinking establishment he frequented in south Leeds, where generations of the same families would get together after a hard days graft. It may have been a rough place but these were blokes enjoying friendly banter over a well earned pint at the end of a long day. Unfortunately, to me, it was reminiscent of the attitude of the wealthy to their London Clubs which ban women as this would change member’s freedom to talk and act as they choose. The working man’s pub appeared intimidating to those who did not belong to that socioeconomic group.
Many of the essay authors’ parents worked hard to enable their offspring to progress through education. Those who made it to better schools write of the challenges this brings. Just as work colleagues may not appreciate the difficulties presented by a lack of parental contacts or financial backup, so classmates did not understand why house size and quantity of possessions could cause embarrassment. There are also casual preconceptions, such as the assumption that a package holiday to Benidorm is somehow less admirable than a bespoke journey through a remote corner of Asia.
There are discussions on benefits, sexuality, visibility and the culture of blame. There is a correlation between poverty and mental health as well as the obvious physical effects of poor nutrition. In Where There’s Shit, There’s Gold, Ben Gwalchmai looks at rural poverty and the jobs he took as a child living in Wales. The Housework Issue (The Other One) asks why certain jobs are looked down upon, especially those that provide benefit to many.
“We, working class women, and all of us, have been sold a lie. The fabrication that if we work hard, do the right thing – whatever that means – that we’ll be ok and get the good stuff. We’ll get the status, and a good sense of pride, and if we’re not ok we deserve our poverty; it’s our own fault because we’re not working hard enough.
The inconvenient truth is that a badly paid and low status job with no prospects like cleaning keeps you poor. Hard work does not lift people out of poverty or issue status, not if you scrub toilets for a living anyway.”
In Reclaiming the Vulgar, Kath McKay asks who defines good taste, and who cares. Value judgements have been attached to many things, including how people furnish their homes, dress and speak. This results in sizeable portions of the population being silenced, their voices somehow deemed unworthy. In The Wrong Frequency, Kate Fox explores the judgements made about those who speak with regional accents. Class differences are reinforced by perceived regional stereotypes.
Many of the essays deal with belonging and the disconnects successful social mobility can introduce. In What Colour is a Chameleon, Rym Kechacha discusses the necessity of talking and acting differently in order to gain acceptance.
“I have heard too many people frown when they hear me speak, too many people assume I haven’t read that book they’re talking about […] I know that no one is fooled about my origins, and I don’t even know if I want them to be.”
The final essay, You’re Not Working Class, is by the editor of the collection, Nathan Connelly. In it he asks what the term even means. There are those who try to delegitimise others who identify as working class. They are thereby complicit in attempting to silence someone who does not conform to their expectations.
To be better understood it is necessary to be heard and these essays provide a platform from which marginalised writers may speak for themselves. From the quality of the arguments presented it is clear that they are more than capable of elucidating cogent and balanced opinions. The stories they tell provide a lesson a wider audience would undoubtedly benefit from learning. This is a recommended read.
March 30, 2019
This was an excellent collection. As with any anthology, there were some stories that resonated with me more than others. There were several essays that talked about art and literature and working in those fields as a working class person; it’d have been nice to see something more from a STEM perspective in the mix. Lots of highlights, though, that really provided a fresh view on things I’d never really considered before.
My personal favourites, to give you an idea of what’s here:
My Jobs, My Lives: Britain’s Invisible Black Middle Class by Sylvia Arthur
Disguised Malicious Murder: The Working Class And Mental Health by Rebecca Winson
The Housework Issue (The Other One) by Cath Bore (about attitudes to cleaning work)
What Colour Is A Chameleon? by Rym Kechacha (about accents and language)
Highly recommended.
My personal favourites, to give you an idea of what’s here:
My Jobs, My Lives: Britain’s Invisible Black Middle Class by Sylvia Arthur
Disguised Malicious Murder: The Working Class And Mental Health by Rebecca Winson
The Housework Issue (The Other One) by Cath Bore (about attitudes to cleaning work)
What Colour Is A Chameleon? by Rym Kechacha (about accents and language)
Highly recommended.
July 15, 2019
Absolutely excellent book. As a working class female who has had the benefit of social mobility, I often find that those around me do not understand the hurdles that working class people have to overcome to be lucky enough to have the benefit of social mobility.
I am proud of my background but at many times I’ve been made to feel ashamed. This book spoke to me on many levels and highlights things I’ve experienced with many ‘yes! I’m not the only one who feels like that’ moments.
Class is often a blanket term and those from the working classes are often brushed over. These important, interesting stories should be heard by everyone.
I am proud of my background but at many times I’ve been made to feel ashamed. This book spoke to me on many levels and highlights things I’ve experienced with many ‘yes! I’m not the only one who feels like that’ moments.
Class is often a blanket term and those from the working classes are often brushed over. These important, interesting stories should be heard by everyone.
October 3, 2019
A good, nuanced examination of what it means to be working class in the UK. Not just "this is what I've experienced or been deprived of because of my socioeconomic background", but bringing in lots of other intersections, like race and sexuality. I definitely learnt a few things. Now, if only we could get all Tory MPs to read it and actually give a shit :/
November 1, 2017
Great variety
This is an excellent collection of essays describing working class experiences of all types. I had feared that it might be a little repetitive but the variety is huge. I definitely recommend it to anyone interested in the working class in the 1970s and beyond.
This is an excellent collection of essays describing working class experiences of all types. I had feared that it might be a little repetitive but the variety is huge. I definitely recommend it to anyone interested in the working class in the 1970s and beyond.
June 19, 2020
I enjoyed all the pieces in this book. It was a well considered collection of essays, many of which read as autobiographical anecdotes.
I loved the discussion of what it means to be the product of a working class background that you leave behind, at least in part, as you progress through higher education. It's about social mobility that isn't as easy to move through as you might expect.
Some writers describe a one way street, where you sacrifice the connections of your childhood as you become middle class, only to be an outsider there as well; while others evoke a complicated dance (frequently linguistic) by which you can code-switch and move from group to group. The second has its own challenges and sacrifice: a fluid self-identity can feel the same as an absence of identity.
And it's about feeling insecure or placeless.
22 essays about art, diet, holidays, pubs, work, immigration, emigration, publishing, housing, social security, politics, sexuality, rejection, music, racism, subcultures, mental health, drugs, rural life, urban life, linguistics, accent, bed bugs, and education.
Often funny, frequently sad, always interesting.
I loved the discussion of what it means to be the product of a working class background that you leave behind, at least in part, as you progress through higher education. It's about social mobility that isn't as easy to move through as you might expect.
Some writers describe a one way street, where you sacrifice the connections of your childhood as you become middle class, only to be an outsider there as well; while others evoke a complicated dance (frequently linguistic) by which you can code-switch and move from group to group. The second has its own challenges and sacrifice: a fluid self-identity can feel the same as an absence of identity.
And it's about feeling insecure or placeless.
22 essays about art, diet, holidays, pubs, work, immigration, emigration, publishing, housing, social security, politics, sexuality, rejection, music, racism, subcultures, mental health, drugs, rural life, urban life, linguistics, accent, bed bugs, and education.
Often funny, frequently sad, always interesting.
January 13, 2021
3 stars on the main but an extra star for 'The Immigrant of Narborough Road'. What a fantastic piece of writing that is. Hilarious and sad, and wonderful.
I was hoping to gain an understanding of what it is to be working class in contemporary Britian. Unfortunately, I feel more confused about the experiences of people who consider themselves working class, rather than more informed.
Many of the writers involved in this project seemed to have moved away from their working class childhoods and teenage years, and carry forth something else into their adult, professional lives. Whether that's being disadvantaged by race, sexuality, or even their accent. Which is interesting to read of course. And I feel all the more richer for having read about their experiences. But the book is false advertising. I was expecting something else entirely, not a hundred references to Guardian articles, twitter, and the plight of being a published, professional writer.
Needs a rebrand and a new blurb, rather than leaving a little disappointment.
I was hoping to gain an understanding of what it is to be working class in contemporary Britian. Unfortunately, I feel more confused about the experiences of people who consider themselves working class, rather than more informed.
Many of the writers involved in this project seemed to have moved away from their working class childhoods and teenage years, and carry forth something else into their adult, professional lives. Whether that's being disadvantaged by race, sexuality, or even their accent. Which is interesting to read of course. And I feel all the more richer for having read about their experiences. But the book is false advertising. I was expecting something else entirely, not a hundred references to Guardian articles, twitter, and the plight of being a published, professional writer.
Needs a rebrand and a new blurb, rather than leaving a little disappointment.
May 13, 2022
I found some of the first essays hard to get through but found some of the later ones much more engaging. As some others have noted, many of the authors in this anthology are arguably no longer working class, but I don’t think this detracts from the piece of work. In fact, many address the way in which their education has given them social mobility, but instead of them finding their place as part of the middle classes, they find themselves stuck between working and middle classes, not feeling like they belong anywhere.
As the child of working class parents and being lucky enough to get a scholarship for private education, thus bridging classes, I found that many essays resonated with my experiences and those of my family.
If you want to further explore the nature of class I’d recommend Bourdieu’s distinction which addresses the issue in much greater depth.
As the child of working class parents and being lucky enough to get a scholarship for private education, thus bridging classes, I found that many essays resonated with my experiences and those of my family.
If you want to further explore the nature of class I’d recommend Bourdieu’s distinction which addresses the issue in much greater depth.
March 31, 2020
A fantastically edited selection of essays relating to the working class.
Lots of these stories resonate with me, judgement based on accent and job role, people making assumptions about Northerners, jokey diatribes against certain geographical areas.
Class always has and always be a divisive element in society, as much as gender is or race.
Listening to these authors break it down and spell it out succinctly and expertly is a refreshing change.
Respect to all the authors and to Nathan Connolly for the gift of Dead Ink publishing- local lad done good, nice one lar.
Lots of these stories resonate with me, judgement based on accent and job role, people making assumptions about Northerners, jokey diatribes against certain geographical areas.
Class always has and always be a divisive element in society, as much as gender is or race.
Listening to these authors break it down and spell it out succinctly and expertly is a refreshing change.
Respect to all the authors and to Nathan Connolly for the gift of Dead Ink publishing- local lad done good, nice one lar.
March 16, 2023
Great book of working class essays that cover a wide range of experiences and topics. Only one essay was not to my liking, overall the were an essential elucidation of the many splendored working classes. Riveting stuff!
September 19, 2018
This took me an entire month to read because the only copy I could get a hold of was on audiobook, and audiobooks are my struggle. That said, this is an utterly brilliant collection. It covers such a variety of topics, from queer families to immigration to accents to council estates. I highly recommend it to anyone who is interested in reading about the intersections of race and class or to anyone who wants to hear about working class experiences from working class people instead of from people who were educated at Eton.
May 4, 2019
Know Your Place is a great anthology from Dead Ink Books looking at what it means to be working class in 21st century Britain. Each essay comes at the topic from a different angle and I really loved the variety of voices. I particularly loved the essays by Andrew McMillan, Rebecca Winson, Kit de Waal, Kath McKay and Sian Norris. It worked brilliantly as an audio edition with several different readers.
November 18, 2017
This was a lot better than I expected - my tolerance for personal essays is pretty low atm. But these were great - some v inspiring. Thumbs up!
May 25, 2018
Funny, overdue, shattering, important, necessary, PERFECT. This book exceeded all my expectations.
July 18, 2018
A refreshing read. It is nice to read working class perspectives rather than middle class academics debating the working class experience.
April 4, 2025
Such a refreshing read! What I enjoyed the most was the diverse range of voices throughout the anthology.
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February 24, 2020
"How can you call yourself working class when you live on the French Riviera?" Good question, and one I've been asked several times. Perhaps I'm no longer working class? I thought the Dead Ink publication Know Your Place: Essays on the Working Class by the Working Class might provide an answer.
The book is a collection of 23 essays, written "in response to a tweet that, in the aftermath of the EU referendum, requested someone produce a 'State of the Nation' book of working class voices". But how to define the working class? The editor tells us that the authors "self-identify as working class or [as] from a working class background".
As with any collection of essays or short stories, some connect with the reader and others don't. Dominic Grace's experience (The Death of a Pub) was nothing like my teetotal, Methodist upbringing, where the pub was considered to be a wicked place that destroyed lives. However, the two essays about accents (Kate Fox's The Wrong Frequency, and Rym Kechacha's What Colour is a Chameleon) struck a chord with someone who moved away from the North West aged 18, whose accent regularly changes depending on the listener, and whose pronunciation of "bus" and "bath" occasionally prompts tedious banter about it being grim "oop North".
Some essays were entertaining and uplifting, such as that of Wally Jiagoo (Glass Windows and Glass Ceilings) and his struggle to get into media script-writing whilst working at a benefits office. Or Alexandros Plasatis's story of sweet revenge on his dodgy landlord (The Immigrant of Narborough Road).
Others provided an insight into something which had never occurred to me, such as Sian Norris's experiences growing up in a lesbian family in the 90s, dealing with Section 28 (Growing Up Outside of Class).
And then there are those whose beliefs are in line with my own. Cath Bore's experience as and study of cleaners (The Housework Issue (the Other One)) discredits the axiom that if you work hard you'll get on. And Peter Sutton laments the privatisation of education and the desire to reintroduce grammar schools (Education, Education, Education).
In the final essay (You're Not Working Class) the book's editor Nathan Connolly has provided a neat answer for those who accuse me of not being working class because more than half a century after I was born, my life appears to have moved so far from where it began. So I'll leave the last word to him:
The book is a collection of 23 essays, written "in response to a tweet that, in the aftermath of the EU referendum, requested someone produce a 'State of the Nation' book of working class voices". But how to define the working class? The editor tells us that the authors "self-identify as working class or [as] from a working class background".
As with any collection of essays or short stories, some connect with the reader and others don't. Dominic Grace's experience (The Death of a Pub) was nothing like my teetotal, Methodist upbringing, where the pub was considered to be a wicked place that destroyed lives. However, the two essays about accents (Kate Fox's The Wrong Frequency, and Rym Kechacha's What Colour is a Chameleon) struck a chord with someone who moved away from the North West aged 18, whose accent regularly changes depending on the listener, and whose pronunciation of "bus" and "bath" occasionally prompts tedious banter about it being grim "oop North".
Some essays were entertaining and uplifting, such as that of Wally Jiagoo (Glass Windows and Glass Ceilings) and his struggle to get into media script-writing whilst working at a benefits office. Or Alexandros Plasatis's story of sweet revenge on his dodgy landlord (The Immigrant of Narborough Road).
Others provided an insight into something which had never occurred to me, such as Sian Norris's experiences growing up in a lesbian family in the 90s, dealing with Section 28 (Growing Up Outside of Class).
And then there are those whose beliefs are in line with my own. Cath Bore's experience as and study of cleaners (The Housework Issue (the Other One)) discredits the axiom that if you work hard you'll get on. And Peter Sutton laments the privatisation of education and the desire to reintroduce grammar schools (Education, Education, Education).
In the final essay (You're Not Working Class) the book's editor Nathan Connolly has provided a neat answer for those who accuse me of not being working class because more than half a century after I was born, my life appears to have moved so far from where it began. So I'll leave the last word to him:
"Delegitimising the working class is a step towards removing working class voices. If we want working class writers, actors, politicians, and judges - and if we want those institutions to understand working class life - then we need to expect the working class to be educated and intelligent, perhaps even cultured, perhaps even partial to a high-street coffee chain latte. Otherwise, we're just telling them to know their place".
June 6, 2023
There are stories already written which deserve to be read and new stories that will remain lost or untold until something changes. An open invitation Kit de Waal
I am still often embarrassed by my postcode, and the blackening walls of the houses down my street, but do not feel the need to hide a lie about what is my reality, as I did when I was younger. Being working class often comes with a heavy burden of internalise, shame, as well as blame. Shame at being unable to afford yearly holidays, and some more aesthetically pleasing and roomier has to bring friends home to.
As a child, I remember houses to bring friends home to. As a child I remember I about going away every summer – I guess lying was easier in the early to mid 2000s when every trip was not backed up with photo albums on Instagram and Facebook.
Navigating space Durre Shahwar Mughal
I also felt guilty and slightly ashamed for being in a university library, just for the sake of silence and working desk. A writing desk. At home, that is what I felt the most the lack of: space. The way the walls of my class narrowed around me as I grew older.
Navigating space Durre Shahwar Mughal
Navigating space Durre Shahwar Mughal
RP has been developing for centuries. 1066, the Normans invaded this island and, overnight, the language of power, commerce, and learning shifted to medieval French. Over the past thousand years, medieval French in the old English in replace of emergency English that we use today, although that mergers proved an easy.
From any concepts in English, the remains of lower register word descends from the Anglo-Saxon, and a higher register of the claim is the Latin origin. I said smell you say order.
I say want, you say, desire.
I say, wild, you say, savage.
When we want to be more formal or sand, intelligent, whether we want to, or not, we switch of recovery to favourite latter, nice words brought here by the Normans.
I am still often embarrassed by my postcode, and the blackening walls of the houses down my street, but do not feel the need to hide a lie about what is my reality, as I did when I was younger. Being working class often comes with a heavy burden of internalise, shame, as well as blame. Shame at being unable to afford yearly holidays, and some more aesthetically pleasing and roomier has to bring friends home to.
As a child, I remember houses to bring friends home to. As a child I remember I about going away every summer – I guess lying was easier in the early to mid 2000s when every trip was not backed up with photo albums on Instagram and Facebook.
Navigating space Durre Shahwar Mughal
I also felt guilty and slightly ashamed for being in a university library, just for the sake of silence and working desk. A writing desk. At home, that is what I felt the most the lack of: space. The way the walls of my class narrowed around me as I grew older.
Navigating space Durre Shahwar Mughal
Navigating space Durre Shahwar Mughal
RP has been developing for centuries. 1066, the Normans invaded this island and, overnight, the language of power, commerce, and learning shifted to medieval French. Over the past thousand years, medieval French in the old English in replace of emergency English that we use today, although that mergers proved an easy.
From any concepts in English, the remains of lower register word descends from the Anglo-Saxon, and a higher register of the claim is the Latin origin. I said smell you say order.
I say want, you say, desire.
I say, wild, you say, savage.
When we want to be more formal or sand, intelligent, whether we want to, or not, we switch of recovery to favourite latter, nice words brought here by the Normans.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 5, 2018
This was an excellent collection of essays. Many of them were extremely thought-provoking and they all brought new and interesting perspectives on the various aspects of being 'working class'. There were elements of humour and joy mixed in with frustration and anger, and despite many of the essays being quite different they all tied together very well. I loved the variety of themes being explored. In particular, I loved Gena-mour Barrett's 'Living on an Estate Gave me a Community I Never Knew I Needed' discussing the positives of growing up in a close-knit estate community versus a middle-class urban neighbourhood - a refreshing narrative compared to many in the media. Kate Fox's 'The Wrong Frequency' was also brilliant, and Laura Waddell's 'The Pleasure Button: Low Income Food Inequality' resonated on many levels. Rym Kechacha's 'What Colour is a Chameleon?' was beautifully honest and introspective, and possibly my favourite essay of them all (although as so many were excellent it is very hard to choose).
The single niggle - and it is a very small niggle - with the entire book was that I couldn't get the first author's 'voice'. I thought she penned an essay on a very important subject, but unlike the other authors I couldn't quite get into her voice and perspective. However, it may just be that I lack understanding on the subject - or the fact that as a reader, I have always struggled with books written with colloquialisms.
This is an extremely important anthology that allows a generally poorly-represented group of people to discuss their culture and experiences with the world. Highly recommended.
The single niggle - and it is a very small niggle - with the entire book was that I couldn't get the first author's 'voice'. I thought she penned an essay on a very important subject, but unlike the other authors I couldn't quite get into her voice and perspective. However, it may just be that I lack understanding on the subject - or the fact that as a reader, I have always struggled with books written with colloquialisms.
This is an extremely important anthology that allows a generally poorly-represented group of people to discuss their culture and experiences with the world. Highly recommended.
February 21, 2020
Great essays. Of course some better than others, but overall excellent. Love hearing from different voices and backgrounds.
Thought listing the authors and essays contained would be useful, and listed below.
Introduction
1. Abondance Matanda – The First Galleries I Knew Were Black Homes
2. Laura Waddell – The Pleasure Button: Low Income Food Inequality
3. Yvonne Singh – More Than Just a Dream Land: Why the British Seaside Means So Much to the Working Class
4. Dominic Grace – The Death of a Pub
5. Sylvia Arthur – My Jobs, My Lives
6. Kit De Waal – An Open Invitation: What Happened to Working Class Writers?
7. Durre Shahwar – Navigating Space
8. Sam Mills – The Benefits Cut
9. Andrew McMillan – One of Us: Some Thoughts on Sexuality and the Working Class
10. Wally Jiagoo – Glass Windows and Glass Ceilings
11. Catherine O’Flynn – Heroes
12. Rebecca Winson – Disguised Malicious Murder: The Working Class and Mental Health
13. Ben Gwalchmai – Where There’s Shit, There’s Gold
14. Cath Bore – The Housework Issue (The Other One)
15. Gena-mour Barrett – Living on an Estate gave me a Community I Never Knew I Needed
16. Lee Rourke – Hotpicking: Forging a Path in the Edulations of Fiction
17. Kath McKay – Reclaiming the Vulgar
18. Alexandros Plasatis – The Immigrant of Narborough Road
19. Peter Sutton – Education, Education, Education
20. Sian Norris – Growing Up Outside Class
21. Rym Kechacha – What Colour is a Chameleon?
22. Kate Fox – The Wrong Frequency
Thought listing the authors and essays contained would be useful, and listed below.
Introduction
1. Abondance Matanda – The First Galleries I Knew Were Black Homes
2. Laura Waddell – The Pleasure Button: Low Income Food Inequality
3. Yvonne Singh – More Than Just a Dream Land: Why the British Seaside Means So Much to the Working Class
4. Dominic Grace – The Death of a Pub
5. Sylvia Arthur – My Jobs, My Lives
6. Kit De Waal – An Open Invitation: What Happened to Working Class Writers?
7. Durre Shahwar – Navigating Space
8. Sam Mills – The Benefits Cut
9. Andrew McMillan – One of Us: Some Thoughts on Sexuality and the Working Class
10. Wally Jiagoo – Glass Windows and Glass Ceilings
11. Catherine O’Flynn – Heroes
12. Rebecca Winson – Disguised Malicious Murder: The Working Class and Mental Health
13. Ben Gwalchmai – Where There’s Shit, There’s Gold
14. Cath Bore – The Housework Issue (The Other One)
15. Gena-mour Barrett – Living on an Estate gave me a Community I Never Knew I Needed
16. Lee Rourke – Hotpicking: Forging a Path in the Edulations of Fiction
17. Kath McKay – Reclaiming the Vulgar
18. Alexandros Plasatis – The Immigrant of Narborough Road
19. Peter Sutton – Education, Education, Education
20. Sian Norris – Growing Up Outside Class
21. Rym Kechacha – What Colour is a Chameleon?
22. Kate Fox – The Wrong Frequency
December 14, 2023
A fantastic read throughout. I made it a point to read (almost, I got excited at the end) every essay as a standalone piece. That let it breathe and let me think about both how the UK's class system compares to America's and what the various authors were describing without my comparisons to home. Ultimately, I couldn't decide which would be harder to navigate: the more rigid and overt UK system or the more nebulous system in America that certainly exists despite the tales we tell ourselves. One thing I can be confident of: we need more of this type of work. We all benefit when voices we don't often hear/read are published as it simply reflects back to us the true richness of the human experience.
I'd be hard pressed to pick a favorite essay, but I think the one about the radio broadcaster stands out most in memory. I listen to the BBC (rebroadcasting via NPR) often and it's always striking how we hear the same accent from every presenter despite knowing full well that the UK has something like 20-30 distinct accents. I always suspected there was something amiss for this to be true, and here we are.
I'd be hard pressed to pick a favorite essay, but I think the one about the radio broadcaster stands out most in memory. I listen to the BBC (rebroadcasting via NPR) often and it's always striking how we hear the same accent from every presenter despite knowing full well that the UK has something like 20-30 distinct accents. I always suspected there was something amiss for this to be true, and here we are.
September 4, 2025
This book, and quite a few of the essays in it, hit a personal note for me. I've always struggled to understand and know if my roots are truly working class and, if they are, does that mean I am working class, or I was working class. A lot of these experiences described in this book resemble my childhood, but it doesn't feel quite right for me to tell a working class story with two degrees under my belt, a three bedroom flat on my payroll and a cushty savings account. The essay about being a chameleon, about changing for whoever you are talking to, very much hit home. But this collection also begs the question of how possible is it really to earn a living as a writer and be working class? To still be working class?
Either way, I felt seen and understood, whether that makes me working class or not, and I appreciated that.
Either way, I felt seen and understood, whether that makes me working class or not, and I appreciated that.
January 20, 2022
What a treat it was to read this collection of essays by working class authors. I've always felt most conflicted by my working class identity, particularly since beginning university and entering the world of medicine. It was comforting to read about others from my class with similar experiences of feeling "othered," people who also find the austerity cuts a traumatic time to look back on, and to learn from experiences entirely different to my own. It's also made me think about how often I've read books, articles or scripts by working class writers, and reflect on social mobility within the UK.
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