What is poverty? | 1960s UK | 1960s Nottingham | St Ann's | Documentary Report | 1969

What a dignified woman. No dramatics just stoicism. I hope things improved for her and her family.

Proof that class has nothing to do with money .. this woman was someone to admire

What a lovely gentle and thoughtful lady. I hope she had a good life.

I was 11 when my family moved out of a house like that in 1955 - no electricity, no bathroom, one cold tap, outside shared loo and dry rot you could smell before you entered. Get behind with rent and you risked broken legs. I regularly went hungry, especially once I grew old enough to realise the terrible cost to my parents of sending me to granny's for a meal. They were never allowed to forget her 'charity.' But at least when my baby sister arrived, it got us a place on the council house waiting list, and we moved a year later. My Mum spent the first week wandering around the house in tears at the sheer luxury of it all. She had never known a house with a garden. Dad and I weren't the greatest gardeners, but within a year we were enjoying our own vegetables. Ten years later we moved out of an area which, once beautiful, had degenerated into another problem housing estate, courtesy of people for whom new houses had proved to be pearls before swine. The lady in this film reminds me of my Mum, even in appearance. Quiet (unless roused - oh dear!) dignified and never ever with idle hands. And with standards - even when alone after Dad died, she never had a meal without setting the table. When I visited her in my 50s, I still wasn't allowed to rise from the table without permission. "Don't forget your scarf again!" she'd call out as I left. I'd once gone out on a winter's day without it - 40 years earlier!

What a lovely manner this lady has, I loved hearing her speak.

People today don't realize how well off we are in comparison

It’s very interesting to listen to her articulation. Despite her being very poor and probably not having enjoyed a great education, she thinks before she speaks and gives very good answers. No comparison to poor (and often even rich) people today.

Most people have a very missguided view of the 60s you know Carnaby Street, Twiggy, hippies, free sex, lots of drugs, haveing a great time, but that was for a few thousand,at most, mainly in London, what we see here is the real life of the working class, but for all they endured, they were a very special People.

The attitude- 'I could give MY children a meal if they came home' (and not deprive someone more needy of free school meals)-and that her husband would rather work for less income than on 'relief'. I remember people like that when I was growing up- and old people who wouldn't ask for help because they could 'manage'.

I wish we were as well spoken as back in the day.

I was a young kid growing up in the 60's on merseyside. We were 3 kids and 2 adults. My Dad was a coalman and used to carry sacks of coal on his back. My Mum would knit jumpers, hats, scarves and gloves for neighbours to make some extra money. Then mid 60's my parents got divorced so my Mum was single with 3 kids. She took a job with school meals to make money so that she could always be home when we finished school. My Dad gave her £1.50 a week for us 3 kids, not each, in total. He paid that every week tlll we left school and he never increased it. My Mum remarried in the mid 60's to a bus driver and had another 2 kids (twins). Things got even tougher. 2 adults and 5 kids in a 3 bedroomed terrace house. Don't forget the 60's was also time of peak union power and quite often my stepfather had to go out on strike with minimal money sometimes none at all. When I think back now we must have been poor but i never thought of myself as poor. I knew people who had it worse than us.

This woman has my total and absolute respect. She has pride and modesty and gets on with what is a very hard life.

Brings back memories.married in 64 .flat outside loo, no bathroom .Me showered at work .Her got bus to bathroom at her mums.Baby bathed in the sink .But i worked 2 jobs when i was on nights( Delivering in a van for a local shop when i got up from night shift ) so we did not have to worry . Always worked never on the dole. Never had much , never knew anyone who actually owned a house.Paid £4.50 a week rent for a empty flat with no bathroomand outside loo.BUT back then the council would give you a 100 % mortgage. Borrowed £70 for legal fees got a 2 up 2 down immac terrace house for £3000 ..Mortgage was £18 a month ( same money as the flat ) . It took me A year to pay a relo back that £70 borrowed money .Jeez those were the day .i am 80 .

The Swinging Sixties: it was just for a few, in a relatively little space. It's mostly an LP cover.

A very well composed video. The lady interviewed is a gem. Humble thoughtful,well spoken with no sense of self entitlement.

I challenge anyone to watch that interview with the mother and not feel sadness. Can you even imagine having your child suffer with respiratory infections because you can't afford to keep two coal fires burning 24/7 in order to stop the furniture going green with mold? And yet she never once complained that anyone should come and help her. What happened to this world I wonder.

I lived through it. One fire when you had coal. Winters were soul destroying. I say this now whilst laid against a central heating radiator scanning youtube. Hard life eh?

What I remember growing up: indoor plumbing was one cold tap in the kitchen; toilet was outside and was a tub that the council came and emptied once a week; electricity was one socket per room downstairs, one socket period upstairs; black mould on walls; a kitchen that we pretty much lived in because it meant only heating one room; kitchen walls that ran with condensation (my dad bought vinyl wall paper and had to - literally - nail it to the wall); being cold in the winter (no upstairs heating of any kind) because our house was exposed on top of a hill and caught all the elements. What else I remember: being a happy child at home, and never resenting my dad for working all the hours God sent, meaning that I hardly ever saw him; my mum always being there because she didn't have a "career" but devoted her life to bringing up her children. That was the 1960s, not the 1940s.

What a lovely lady Mrs Smith . I wonder how her and her family’s lives changed over the years since this. Hopefully for the better. Wonder if she is still with us.

This is heartbreaking listening to her.