Monday, 1 January 1973 was one of the best days of my life. I was starting a seventh year of working with the Royal Shakespeare Company, and the roles I was being given were getting better and better. My wife and I owned our own tiny cottage, our son was in infant school, and we were expecting the birth of a daughter. I had a little secondhand Renault. And this was the day when the UK finally became a member of the European Economic Community.
I grew up in a working-class home in the industrial West Riding of Yorkshire. My father was a commissionaire at a large chemical plant, and my mother worked, as she had all her life, in a heavy-woollen weaving shed. I visited her at work only once, and the experience revolted me: the noise, the polluted air, the two monstrous looms she operated alone. But she loved the social atmosphere of friendship, fun, companionship, trust and hard work. Also she was a member of a community, and that meant everything to her.
Continue reading...from The Guardian http://ift.tt/2DE7kJj
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