(Written January 2016)
At some stage I was going to have to write something on this... This has been written over several months as I didn't know what to write. For some of you, you might just think I'm trying to drag this out but I can assure you, that is not my intention. I realise Scotland made her choice and she is not independent... Yet.
The reason I haven't taken the time to write anything until now isn't because I couldn't be bothered but it's because I was grieving. I still am.
"Hope deferred makes the heart sick."
Wise words from my favourite book.
My heart has been crushed. I still cry every time I think about what could have been for Scotland. There are songs I haven't been able to listen to since the wee hours of Friday 19th September 2014.
For those of you delighted with the verdict, I would love to say I'm pleased for you.. I have tried to say that every single day since the result but I cannot bring myself to say it. I know those of you who chose to vote no did so because you too love Scotland and you did not want to see her fail or because you thought it was better to stay united (or perhaps both). I just cannot see it from your side - and I never will - please don't try and force me too.
Please, just let me mourn and grieve for my heart is breaking over my loss. This may sound melodramatic but the truth of the matter is, the result on the 19th September felt like a death in the family. It was the hope of a promise that never saw the light of day. My heart broke.
On Thursday 11th September 2014, I jumped on a train at London Euston and headed for Glasgow. Perhaps London is where I call home but Glasgow will have my heart forever. She's been on a journey with me like no other city and she's been faithful. As I pulled into Glasgow Central, I could feel something in the air. It was just turning midnight and the city was relatively quiet but it felt different. There was a sense of anticipation brewing in the night sky.
The next morning and I got up late - all my friends and family were at work so I had a quick look at the chat on social media - it was all referendum based, then I went round to see my nieces and nephews and it was all the family could talk about too. That night, my brother's band were playing a gig in town so I went and once again the indyref wasn't far from the tip of anyone's tongue... I had never known so many people to be as well versed in politics as I found Glasgow to be right now. Sure, London has a few who know what they are talking about and a few who pretend but this... This was something else. It was like an electrical current charging through the city from one person to the next.
On Saturday, after catching up with a couple of my friends about antics the night before, I headed straight into town. Everyone and anyone seemed to be heading for Buchanan Street for a massive YES rally. The sun was beating down and the atmosphere was that of carnival! I have never known such mass excitement about politics. It felt like we were standing on the cusp of a new dawn - a new era. For Glasgow to be this hopeful? This was new!! This was a people who knew what they wanted and they were making NOISE! Intelligent noise. It was peaceful, it was friendly, it was fun, it was loud, it was singing and dancing in the streets of Glasgow. It was beautiful. It's the Glasgow I always knew existed under her perceived hardened exterior. It's the Glasgow that I know and love.
That week it was more of the same but the anticipation continued to build. I eavesdropped into a conversation of ten 14 year old boys on their way to play football in the park - they were all talking politics and they were informed. They spoke eloquently of economics and austerity, foodbanks and equality. They knew what they were talking about - on both sides of the argument. My nieces and nephews who were all under 5 at the time even had an inkling of what was going on. They would recognise the YES logo that adorned most windows in the city even the occasional "No thanks" badges. The front pages of the papers screamed that Lord Ashcroft's polls suggested that YES would win. This was a moment of sheer elation but also enough to get Davey, Eddy and wee Nick racing up to Scotland with a bee in their bonnets.
Two days before the referendum, Labour got into bed with the already cosy Tories and Lib Dems and released their love letter to Scotland: The Vow. I was immediately skeptical - since when were Labour and Conservative getting all pally pally? Surely people wouldn't fall for this tosh, would they? It was obvious that the party leaders would renege on this if they got their way and it was obsolete if they didn't. At least, I thought that was obvious.
Then Thursday arrived. Thursday 18th September 2014. We all woke up early - it felt like Christmas, to me anyway. My oldest sister came over with her kids to mum and dad's house and we all went to meet my other sister and her boys so that everyone could vote together. We wandered round to the local polling station and took photos on the way - it felt momentous. As we walked in to the station, my parents and sisters handed in their polling cards (I had been away from Scotland for too long so didn't get a vote) and they cast their votes with the help of the kids. I cried. Being overcome with emotion in a polling station had never been something I'd known before but as I said before, this was different. It was the first time in my life that I had known a vote to actually matter in Scotland. My family were actually getting a say in their country. It was massive. I looked around and wasn't the only one in tears. We headed outside and bumped into the wonderful Nicola Sturgeon. We chatted with her and we spoke of our quiet confidence. We then took the kids to the park and celebrated our votes with ice cream. The rest of the day was excruciating as we waited. and waited.
That night we headed to the Cafe for a shindig. The place was rammed. The trad session was in full swing and the bar was 6 deep all night. That sense of carnival from Buchanan Street the weekend before was flowing through the cafe and venue. Everyone was telling their stories of the day. We were all ecstatic at the 84.6% turnout of voters (Nice one Scotland!) and some even told stories of polling stations closing by 11am because they'd had a 100% turnout already! The usual Scottish turnout in an election was 50-60%. At midnight, a piper arrived and the place erupted in a rendition of Flower of Scotland. It felt like a victory party - had we in fact already done it!
The dream soon died as the first results were met with a groan. Suddenly we all crashed back down to earth with a bump as more and more no results flooded in. How could it be? I barely knew anyone voting no... but then we were in Glasgow. One of only four yes majorities. The BBC arrived and wanted to interview me, I just wanted to cry. I think they did in fact film me crying. The last results came in and only a few of us remained in the venue. We got up and could barely even look at each other. The place was full of debris from an incredible party of hope the night before and a few broken hearts who had waited with hope for a result which did not come.
By now, the kitchen staff were arriving for their shifts with heavy hearts. They made me and my parents some breakfast and we sat in silence. One or two people came in. They had just woken up to the result and didn't want to be alone in their sadness. We couldn't quite believe it. I ate and then fell asleep on the sofa. About 30 minutes later, the next shift came in and my friend Emma woke me up with a hug and sent me home. The newspapers were out and Cameron had already reneged. He'd also already made a full of himself with some story of the Queen purring like a cat. I just wanted to sleep.
When I woke up, I cried some more. and then some more again. I went out for dinner with my parents as none of us had the energy to cook. I cried there too. The waitress said I looked how she felt. She brought me a large glass of wine. We met up with friends that night to celebrate their birthdays. We had previously been hoping to also be celebrating an independent Scotland. It wasn't to be. I didn't stay long. I had to grieve. Only 24 hours before, we had been celebrating our freedom to vote and now there were reports coming in of fighting on Buchanan Street and George Square, the homes of friendly, hopeful rallies for a better Scotland. I won't go into this anymore, but let it be known, these people did not represent the YES or NO campaigns and they didn't represent Scotland either.
The day after, hope was stirring again. The cafe was buzzing with people getting together to form grassroots movements which would see Scotland become the place of equality we had dreamed of in the indyref campaign. People working together in the face of adversity from the government. The rebirth of hope was tangible - like a phoenix from the ashes.
And so I finish, with the words of a man, who through this campaign completely altered my view of him, Alex Salmond, who called the referendum a "triumph for the democratic process and for participation in politics...for Scotland the campaign continues and the dream shall never die."
Evviva il socialismo e la libertà .
