Former member of the NCP quoted in a recent article in the Observer.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/dec/31/we-will-never-stop-trying-what-weve-learned-from-a-lifetime-of-activism

If you don’t do anything to make the world a better place, I’m not sure you’ve got a right to complain. You can’t just sit around waiting for someone else to step in.

Politics runs in my blood. I was raised in Manchester’s Cheetham Hill – at 14, my dad tried to sign up to fight in the Spanish resistance. Being committed to the cause, therefore, was a part of family life. I was only eight when, in 1953, I took my first political action. I learned about two Jewish communists – a couple, Ethel and Julius Rosenberg – accused of giving secrets to the Russians in America. They were sentenced to death. The Rosenbergs had two sons, both similar ages to me. I was so horrified when I realised soon they’d have no parents, that I took a petition to school and asked other pupils to sign it. At 13, I established a junior CND group. As a young mum, I focused on fighting racism in our multicultural corner of Manchester. From then, I’ve never stopped, really.

I met George, my late husband, in 1980. Politically, we were on the same page. Having a shared worldview was important for me. We were together in the things that mattered most, including this – it’s wrong to bring children into this world, but not try to make it better for them. So that’s what I’ve done for my children, grandchildren, and now great-granddaughter too.

I rarely feel despair – who has the time? – but there are moments when I fear we’ll never get there. But it doesn’t last. I’m surrounded by friends who have the same outlook. If you’re genuine about your ideals, living another way is impossible. I don’t know how to stay at home. If you’ve been an activist, and still care about the same things, you can’t just switch off and retire. I can’t go on demonstrations any more, down to my health. I have a folding chair which I take to rallies. I feel aggrieved, but I find other ways. My eldest grandchildren are 32 and 29. I’ve passed on the baton. You know you have to hand it on, you won’t keep going for ever.

Years ago, when the Americans bombed Libya, we went on to the motorways with placards. Aren’t you scared, my daughter asked. You’ve got to be so active, I explained, that you’ve no time to be frightened. I’m not sure I’m optimistic about the future. But you keep going: it won’t change if I don’t do anything, but it just might if I do… and so, I’ll never stop trying.