Sunday, 21 September 2014

Why I Said No Thanks to Scottish Independence


As I assume everyone will know, there was a vote on Thursday to determine whether Scotland should become an independent country. I voted no. There have been campaigns on both sides for the past 2 years, and although I must acknowledge the strong and positive campaign produced by the Yes side, I'm afraid it was never an option for me.


Now there are so many political reasons for and against both Yes and No. My decision has been based strongly on an interest in politics that I have had since my mid teens; I do not, however, wish to argue my political point here but more focus on the subject of identity.

I am Scottish. Scotland has an exciting and colourful history and one I am fiercely proud of; there is also a great spirit and sense of unity here - it is what the Yes campaign thrived on. This past year I did something I never thought I'd do - I celebrated New Year's Eve outside of Scotland, in Sydney to be precise. I attended the biggest and best New Year celebration in the world, and yet I deeply missed the sound of the bagpipes and everyone singing along to 'loch lomond'. I love Scotland and its people, and I want nothing but the best for this great nation.

The UK on the other hand is made made up of 4 different identities and 4 different histories, but for the last few hundred years we have been united. Each one of us, England, Wales, Northern Ireland and Scotland, have been able to positively contribute to the United Kingdom; to allow us to continually progress to the point that we are at now. We are respected and sought after all over the world, and we are able to enjoy services that many a country could only dream of. I am Scottish. But like many other Scots, I choose to also identify myself as British. That is the cool thing about the UK - you get to be both.

There has been a lot of nastiness from both sides in the lead up to the referendum, and it has really driven me mad. I am proud that so many people got involved; I am proud that, with roughly an 84% turnout, we were able to see true democracy. However, I have been extremely disappointed in the deep, nasty divide that has been created, and find it unfortunate that this may be continuing post-result. When I went onto social media on Friday following the announcement of a majority no vote, I was utterly disgusted by the things that had been posted. Apparently, as a no voter, I can't speak another negative word about UK or Scottish politics ever again - a very narrow minded opinion but unfortunately one shared by many. On top of this, as a no voter, I was labelled selfish, uneducated, disgraceful and un-Scottish to name but a few. By voting no I was protecting my bank loans, protecting my job, protecting only myself. It became clear to me that this minority of ignorant Yes voters were missing the point completely.

Like I said at the beginning I do have many political reasons, but the root of it all came from my identity. For a Yes voter the drive for independence is out of pride and love for Scotland. I understand that because I feel it too. But I also have that same love and passion for the United Kingdom, for being British. For me, independence meant removing my identity - taking away my British pride. I want both. I want my cake and I want to eat it too. Look at it like this, say I am from Edinburgh and we are having a vote to become independent from Scotland. How would you feel about losing your Scottish identity? Voting no does not mean I agree with the politicians or that I believe what they say, and it certainly does not make me a Tory. It just means that - like each and every Yes voter - I have dreams for a better political system, for a better country, and for a better future; but for all of us, for Scotland, England, Northern Ireland and Wales. I want better for the UK.

Saturday, 20 September 2014

Traveling No More.

I recently (12 days ago) returned home from a 'gap' year traveling South East Asia, New Zealand and Australia. After an incredible year, I am now attempting to navigate my way through life as a jobless 23 year old back living under her parents roof.

So, how have my first couple of weeks fared? Well, after surprising my family with my unannounced arrival home; my first couple of days consisted of eating and drinking everything I ever missed, from my local butchers unbeatable steak pie to Scotland's famous Irn Bru. I loved lounging in my comfortable living room, showering without flip-flops and spending time with my very much missed springer spaniels. Life was bliss and, like traveling, everything was new and exciting.

Howbeit, after a few days of settling in it was time to get back to reality - time to start looking for work and clear out the storage space that was once known as my bedroom. Things like having personal space became an actual thing, and wasting hours online the only pastime. Discovering my lack of interest in television has been less than ideal and boredom has now become my only constant. 

I look forward to catch-ups and seeing those I've missed, but I struggle to answer the obvious question: 'So, how was it?' My answer is limited to 'good', and I'm always left wondering how I can appropriately sum up the last year of my life. The answer is I can't. It is quite impossible to summarise the year that taught and changed me so much. I listen to friends talk about their new careers and boyfriends, while flicking through another's wedding album. 'Do you have a job yet?' 'Are you seeing anyone?' 'What are your plans now?' 'When are you going back to uni?' I sift through the questions (getting quicker each time someone asks), and I spend copious amounts of time considering whether I am falling behind or if it is alright to go against the grain. 

So, here I am - at my most indecisive - choosing between what is expected and what I truly want; trying to figure out how to get there and ultimately just hoping it all falls into place.