My late uncle used to tell a story which impressed me greatly. On a Sunday School trip to the seaside in Norfolk he and his brother and sister went swimming. As he dried himself afterwards he overheard the wife of a farm labourer telling her children, “No: you can’t go swimming. Be content with paddling. Swimming’s not for the likes of us.” He regarded this as as remarkable illustration of the nature and mechanisms of social hierarchy in England between the wars.
Although the incident strikes us now perhaps as being very much of its time it came into my mind today under surprising circumstances. An organisation for artists of which I am a member has advertised a series of on-line consultations about professional development. My initial response was to think that this was a great opportunity, and I shouldn’t miss it. Then there was that little voice in the head. “Consultations about professional development are not for the likes of us.” I actually had to struggle with that one before my uncle’s anecdote come into my head. Only after I had managed to conquer that initial self-deprecation did I make the move to sign up.