Christopher Luxon and all he’ll never do or know
The price of living with dignity.
Christopher Luxon will never drag his mattress into the lounge of his home so that he and his wife and his newborn baby can sleep in the only warm place in his flat.
He will never lie his baby between them, using their bodies to keep their little one warm. Won’t get the dog under the covers in bed with the kids to warm them too.
Christopher Luxon will never use glad wrap on the windows to try to stop the rain leaking through, hold in the heat, and stop the mould, will never go without cooking to save power, will never drink hot water just to warm his body, will never wear a coat to bed, will never put socks on his child’s hands to protect them from the cold.
Christopher Luxon will never cough blood, after getting sicker and sicker in a damp and freezing place you could never call a home.
Christopher Luxon will never go to a job interview and hope his empty stomach doesn’t growl because he hasn’t eaten in 24 hours. And he won’t mentally struggle in that job interview because all he can think about is his gnawing belly.
Christopher Luxon won’t go to a group job interview and watch as a minimum-wage employer discounts him immediately due to his age, or race, or sexuality.
Chrisopher Luxon won’t go to a job and hope he doesn’t get injured or worse as he earns the least amount you can give someone for a job and get away with it.
Christopher Luxon won’t ever be a sexually harassed by his boss and have to try to avoid going near the chiller when he’s there because there’s no other jobs for a teenager in this town.
Christopher Luxon will never hold a tray of champagne flutes steady as men who look just like him smack his ass to see if he drops them. He will never swallow it because it’s a job and jobs are hard to come by.
Christopher Luxon won’t drive his car on empty, hoping he can just get to his job, because if he doesn’t it’s over and what then?
Christopher Luxon won’t water down the milk so he can get enough money for petrol, won’t have to leave home in the darkest morning to get to work on time by public transport that never comes on time.
Christopher Luxon won’t get stomach cramps from eating the bruised kiwifruit they can’t sell after his shift, won’t get sick from eating the pies that the dairy owner throws out at the end of the night, won’t have to go to the foodbank for dented tins of tomatoes and face the volunteer who is so sorry, so very sorry.
Christopher Luxon won’t go hungry so his children can eat. Won’t drink tea constantly to fill his shrinking tummy, won’t have to feed his babies flour and water. Won’t stand in the kitchen so nobody can see he isn’t eating.
Christopher Luxon won’t choose between school and a job, won’t fall asleep in class because he’s so hungry and tired, won’t look at his mum and wish he could make it all better for her.
Christopher Luxon won’t tell her he can quit school and get a job, any job.
Christopher Luxon won’t have to quit university, quit dreams, quit it all.
Christopher Luxon won’t drink to forget, smoke to escape, take drugs to feel something other than this brutal life that keeps shitting on him over and over again.
Christopher Luxon won’t borrow from next week, then the one after, and the one after that always chasing and chasing.
Christopher Luxon won’t know the vernacular of exclusion, won’t feel like he’s a child on the outside looking in.
Christopher Luxon won’t move houses five times before he’s five, won’t give up on making friends because the landlord is just going to up the rent and their little family will have to move again and again and again, and he’ll never know what it’s like not to feel like he stands on stable ground, like this country is his too, won’t ever know what it feels like to put a picture on the wall with a pin and say ‘this is my home’.
Christopher Luxon won’t live in his car.
Christopher Luxon won’t live in a garage.
Christopher Luxon won’t live with his whole family in one room, knowing nothing is theirs, will ever be theirs.
Christopher Luxon won’t wake up and think I can’t live like this anymore and wonder what it’s like to go to sleep and not wake up and never be hungry again and never have to fight so hard for enough to pay the rent, he will never know that sometimes it’s just
one
more
thing
and that thing is just too much and you can’t fight anymore.
*
Christopher Luxon doesn’t know these things. Won’t ever know these things. But he is materially rich. And on that mountain of money that keeps growing and growing he can say this:
This is an AMAZING piece Emily. <3 And not only that - Christopher Luxon won't even experience the things regular, middle class kinds of people do - nothing serious but the kinds of things that happen when you don't own seven houses. So completely out of touch with the most vulnerable and even those of us that are privileged enough to afford health insurance but not holidays, or groceries but not restaurant dinners out once a week. He's really only understanding the top 1%
As long as we are talking about those lazy kids on benefits we are turning our attention away from the mega rich who avoid taxes and live off their investments and property portfolio. It is a classic case of divide and rule.