Government policy is forcing single parents into poverty

Loneliness, isolation and poverty are now the fate of many single parents in this country. Rebecca Omonira-Oyekanmi finds out why so many of them feel like they're being punished "like naughty children".

Liza was 28, working in a bookshop, and studying for a second degree when she became pregnant. “We moved in together because we thought we ought to. That lasted for a year after she was born.” Liza and her partner made a plan for their daughter’s arrival; he would help with childcare so she could return to work. But the plan unravelled when he decided to embark on a career change during her pregnancy. “So he quit his job and that was very stressful. We had no income really.

“I felt like I wasn’t getting any support from him, and I wasn’t getting any support from anyone else because they all thought he should be supporting me. So I left in order to get some support.” Liza makes a wry face and laughs. She is nearly always laughing; her dry humour usually directed at herself.

Mother and baby survived on income support and tax credits, two “big” overdrafts from her student days and some child support from her daughter’s dad. “That put a strain on our relationship. He didn’t appreciate them taking money straight out of his wages.” But the bigger strain was on Liza, who, driven by loneliness and a desire to escape the constant worry, scoured her local community, a small town outside Bristol, for friendship. “I had gone from being a free spirit to a lonely isolated single parent.”

When Liza says ‘single parent’, her face changes and the heaviness of the stigma darkens her features. But in her eyes is a sharp defiance. Too often lone parents are caricatured in the press and by politicians, particularly if they are women, and these subtle prejudices seep into the lives of single parents as they battle for the services they need to do the difficult job of raising children alone. Contrast the government’s eagerness to reward married couples to the rhetoric used when discussing social security for single parents. Then look at the government’s latest childcare announcement, designed to reduce childcare costs through the tax system. This will subsidise childcare for middle to high earners and do little for those parents working below the tax threshold in part-time, low paid employment. And it is the dearth of affordable childcare that forces lone mothers into these jobs.

Political rhetoric and featherweight policy solutions also disguise the fact that single parents areamong the biggest losers of the recession. New research from the Women's Budget Group on the cumulative impact on families of tax and spending measures introduced since 2010 (and including the impact of proposed policies up to 2015/16 ) found that single parents will lose 15.1 per cent of their disposable income to austerity policies. This is compared to couples with no children who lose 4.1 per cent and couples with children who lose 9.7 per cent. The break down of this income loss shows the biggest source of the loss is from tax and spending changes, cuts to further and higher education training, and housing. Withdrawing social security and public services that single parents need to balance raising children and finding decent work will simply prolong their unemployment or force them into a poverty wage. That is exactly what happened to Liza.

Initially, Liza managed, but was relieved when came across the Single Parent Action Network (her daughter Ruth was nearly three by this time). SPAN is a charity based in Bristol that provides a wide range of support to one parent families. “I mainly went because they had a free creche and . . . just to get a break. The first thing I did was fabric painting. It was the first time I had had any time away from Ruth. It was two hours, but it was amazing. Every parent should be able to do that.” Liza worked her way through all of SPAN’s skills courses, but kept going back to volunteer, teach classes, and soon began helping with SPAN’s research and policy work.

The report Liza helped compile was an ambitious project charting the journeys of 50 single parents over three years as they moved from income support to Jobseeker’s Allowance. The project results forced Liza to question the support she could hope to receive when she eventually resumed looking for work once Ruth started full time schooling.

“I remember one particular lady who had been a midwife or a nurse. She just needed a bit more training to get back into it. She was told, ‘You can’t do that because you won’t be looking for work’. There is no long term thinking. A lot of people went into jobs that either didn’t financially work or the childcare didn’t really work. They ended up back on benefits.”

There were success stories, but overall there was a sense that these parents were being punished “like naughty children”. Liza was struck by the overwhelming sense of fear and constant worry. The subtle prejudice against single mothers, which had come from politicians and the media, had indeed crept into the minds of the agencies tasked with helping this group. If the agencies themselves decide that single parents are undeserving, then you have a situation where ordinary parents are having to fight individual battles to prove otherwise, and argue for their share of state support.

“It was the idea that you had to justify your existence.” Liza says, “and your right to have any financial support. That came across in the interviews, ‘I had to justify why I deserved to have the money’. Whereas before it had been you deserve this because you are doing this really hard job on your own.”

Liza shudders. “I thought, that just won’t be good for my mental health, to have to go every two weeks, justify my existence, prove that I am looking for work that isn’t there.” She laughs again, holding her head in her hands. “It was a bit of cop out. I would have been ideally placed to go into the jobcentre and challenge them. But knowing your rights is not enough. They have got all the power. It felt like a lose-lose situation that I just didn’t want to get into. I would rather have any job than have to go through what these people have had to go through and be treated like that.”

As Ruth’s fifth birthday approached Liza was haunted by the voices of the women she had interviewed. She waited anxiously for the letter from the Department for Work and Pensions telling her that she too would have to move from income support and attend JobCentre Plus. Instead, she gave up on the fruitless applications for jobs that matched her ability and interests, and eventually she took a job caring for a lady who recently had a stroke. “I didn’t have any work experience, but my mum was disabled and I lived with my nan for a long time.

“It didn’t really feel like a decision. I thought, this is going to be really difficult, because my nan had dementia. And it was very similar working with someone who had a stroke who had memory loss. I did think, ‘Can I do this again?’”

“It is not skilled, but I have just gone down that road ever since. I think if you went back and said to Liza who left university, who thought ‘Right, I am just going to work at Waterstones for a bit, then I am going to take on the world’, that she was going to end up doing caring work . . . she would be like, no, no, no, no.”

When we met in April Ruth had turned seven and Liza was working as a carer for an elderly lady with Parkinson’s. This paid £70 a week and provided little security, no paid holidays or sick leave. Liza and Ruth’s income is topped up by £60 in tax credits each month, plus around £200 a month from Ruth’s dad. “I just about break even, although having said that I just got a letter saying water bill is going to come out. So I’m having a bad month.” She smiles, lamenting her inability to make a little money do the impossible. “Iain Duncan Smith says you can live on £59 a week, I am sure you can. But when you are looking after a small child and worrying about all the other things you have to worry about it, it is harder.”

As the state continues to draw back support, single parents are increasingly at a loss. Where Liza lives, after school clubs and holiday schemes are unaffordable at around £20 a day. In the face of desperate odds, though, Liza is still upbeat. “I do worry. I just have to stop myself. I like to think I keep it from her but I suspect she picks up on it when I am anxious. I do get anxious, generally about the future.

“I have to believe that somehow, at some point, it is going to work out. Even if it is not for another 10 years, even if it is not till she’s at Uni and I can study, and maybe get a better job then. I have to keep thinking that this isn’t forever, that is how I stay positive. I think that is true for most people in that situation.”

For many single parents, working is essential, but childcare is unaffordable. Photo: Getty

Rebecca Omonira-Oyekanmi reports and writes on immigration, women and economics, housing, legal aid, and mental health. Read her latest work here. Her blog rebeccaomonira.com was shortlisted for the 2012 Orwell Prize. She tweets @Rebecca_Omonira.

Photo: Getty
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What the tragic case of Charlie Gard tells us about the modern world

People now believe medical science can perform miracles, and many search for them online.

If Charlie Gard had been born 40 years ago, there would have been no doubt about what would, and should, happen. Doctors treating a baby with a rare genetic condition that causes the body’s organs to shut down would have told his parents “nothing more can be done for him”. Charlie – deaf, epileptic, his muscles wasted, his brain probably damaged – would have died peacefully and unremarked. If an experimental US treatment had given such children an estimated 10 per cent chance of survival, his parents would not have known about it. Even if they had, they would have sorrowfully deferred to British doctors.

Now people believe that medical science can perform miracles and, through the internet, search the world for them. Yet they do not trust the knowledge and judgement of the medical profession. They rally public support and engage lawyers to challenge the doctors, as Charlie’s parents unsuccessfully did in the hope of being allowed to take their child for experimental treatment in America, despite warnings that it would be ineffective and distressing for him. This is a strange situation, the result of medical progress, social media, globalisation and the decline of deference. It causes much heartache to everybody involved but, like Charlie’s death, it is probably unavoidable.

Mogg days

A few weeks ago, Jacob Rees-Mogg was a 50-1 outsider for the Tory leadership. Now, as I write, he is third or fourth favourite, quoted by the bookmakers at between 6-1 and 10-1. For a few days, he was the second favourite, ahead of both Boris Johnson and Philip Hammond and behind only David Davis, the clear front-runner. Perhaps Davis organised rich friends – of which I am sure he has a few – to flood the market with bets on Rees-Mogg to frighten Tory MPs into rallying behind him.

But do not write off the man dubbed “the honourable member for the early 20th century” – generously, in my view, since he looks and behaves as though he has stepped off an 18th-century country estate and he actually lives on a 17th-century one. Rees-Mogg, a hard Brexiteer, would be an appropriate leader if we left the EU with no deal. Having excused ourselves from the world’s largest and most cohesive trading bloc, our best prospect for earning our living would be as a giant 18th-century theme park. Who better than Rees-Mogg to front it?

The royal revenue stream

Princess Diana is the gift that keeps on giving. TV companies produce documentaries on the anniversaries of her death and marriage. New tapes, photos and letters are unearthed. Anyone who cut her hair, cleaned her windows or sold her a frock can make a bob or two from “my memories of Diana”. Most important, Diana guarantees the future of the royal family for at least another half-century. In an ITV documentary, Prince William spoke movingly and sincerely (as did his brother, Harry) about losing a mother. Even the most hard-hearted republicans must now hesitate to deprive him also of a throne.

Strictly newsreading

I am a BBC fan. I regard the requirement, imposed by the Tories, that the corporation publishes the names and salary bands of employees paid more than £150,000 a year as an attempt to exploit “the politics of envy” of which Labour is normally accused. But I wonder if the corporation could help itself by offering even more transparency than the government demands.

It could, for example, explain exactly why Gary Lineker (£1.75m-£1.79m), Jeremy Vine (£700,000-£749,999) and Huw Edwards (£550,000-£599,999) are so handsomely paid. Do they possess skills, esoteric knowledge or magnetic attraction to viewers and listeners unavailable to other mortals and particularly to their women colleagues who are apparently unworthy of such lavish remuneration? Were they wooed by rival broadcasters? If so, which rivals and how much did they offer? Have BBC women received lower offers or no offers at all? The BBC could go further. It could invite a dozen unknowns to try doing the jobs of top presenters and commentators, turn the results into a programme, and invite viewers or listeners to decide if the novices should replace established names and, if so, at what salaries. We elect the people who make our laws and the couples who go into the final stages of Strictly Come Dancing. Why shouldn’t we elect our newsreaders and, come to that, Strictly’s presenters?

Mail order

A tabloid newspaper, founded in 1896 and now with its headquarters in Kensington High Street, west London, obsessed with the Islamist terror threat, convinced that it speaks for Middle England. An editor, in the chair for a quarter-of-a-century, who makes such liberal use of the C-word that his editorial conferences are known as “the vagina monologues” and whose voice is comparable to that of “a maddened bull elephant”. Sound familiar?

Two weeks ago, I wrote about Splash!, a newly published satirical novel about a tabloid newspaper from the long-serving Daily Mail columnist Stephen Glover. Now I have had early sight of The Beast, due out in September, also a satirical novel about a tabloid paper, written by Alexander Starritt who briefly worked on the Mail after leaving Oxford University. Like Glover, he pays homage to Evelyn Waugh’s classic Scoop, where the main characters worked for the Daily Beast, but there the similarities end. Glover has written what is essentially a defence of tabloid journalism. Starritt offers a fierce, blackly comic critique, though he cannot, in the end, quite avoid casting the editor Paul Dacre – sorry, Charles Brython – as a heroic, if monstrous, figure.

How many other journalists or ex-journalists are writing satirical novels about the Mail? And why the presumed public interest? Newspapers, with fewer readers than ever, are supposed to be dying. Fiction publishers seem to disagree. 

Peter Wilby was editor of the Independent on Sunday from 1995 to 1996 and of the New Statesman from 1998 to 2005. He writes the weekly First Thoughts column for the NS.

This article first appeared in the 27 July 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Summer double issue