Some months ago I was in Summerlee Museum in Coatbridge. It's an industrial museum and charts the rise and fall of the steel and coal industry in Coatbridge, which was one of the biggest producers in the UK. It goes further than that though; it also charts the day to day life of the workers who earned their living from these industries and their struggle for a basic quality of life. The banner above comes from those times.
I found it a very sobering visit. I always knew that conditions had been bad and that mining was dangerous but somehow it got under my skin. It was stark and understated and that made it all the more shocking. And I asked myself; in those conditions, where people were dying every day from injury, from disease and from neglect, how could they ever imagine that things could get better? How could they not have the spirit crushed out of them in those conditions? How did we get to the stage that we did have a health service, a mininum wage, health and safety and so on?
The answer? Those who dreamed of those things accepted that they probably would not have them for themselves. But it was enough for them that those coming after them would and so they put the changes in place, stone by stone. Lawrence of Arabia once said that the people to watch for were those who dreamed with their eyes open. And so they are. They are the builders of cities and the sowers of ideas. And all that we have, we owe to those who went before us, who did not lose hope, even in the despair that they worked in.
This has been a bad couple of weeks for the blogosphere. We have lost Jobbing Doctor for the time being and Rita Pal has a story about a friend who has been pursued by the GMC for four years and ODd. They pulled through, but we are in hard times for the NHS and sometimes it just doesn't seem worth it. We cannot imagine things getting better or that we make a difference. But we do. History shows it. All progress depends on those who hope and work to make their dreams real.
We may not see the fruits of what we do in our time. But it matters for those coming after us. Let's hope. Let's continue. And let's not let the bastards get us down.
Say not the struggle naught availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.
If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke conceal'd,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light;
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!
But westward, look, the land is bright!
